Chapter 5 - The Gala Trap
For three days, the bakery remained quiet.
Sophie threw herself into her work with a vengeance. She baked until her arms throbbed and her eyes burned from lack of sleep. She called her bank, canceled the lease transfer, and tried to figure out how she would pay off the supplier debts without Luca’s money. She didn't care if she lost the Oak Street location. She would rather bake out of a rented basement for the rest of her life than be a pawn in a mobster's family war.
On Thursday evening, a sleek black envelope was slipped under the front door of her apartment.
Inside was a handwritten note on heavy parchment paper:
Sophie,
My mother spoke out of turn, but she was right about one thing: I used you. I needed to convince Nonna to sign the proxy vote before Mateo attempted a hostile takeover of our shipping logistics network. I thought you were just another business transaction.
I was wrong.
Nonna collapsed this afternoon. She is in the hospital. She keeps asking for you. She refuses to take her medication unless you are there. Please.
Luca
Sophie clutched the paper against her chest, her anger instantly morphing into sick dread. Nonna Rosa. The sweet, sharp old woman who had held her hand and shared her secret lemon tart recipe.
Twenty minutes later, Sophie arrived at Northwestern Memorial Hospital.
Marco was standing outside the private ward on the tenth floor. When he saw Sophie, he looked noticeably relieved. "Miss Bennett. Thank God."
"Is she alright?" Sophie asked breathlessly.
"Her heart rate stabilized an hour ago," Marco said softly. "But she’s weak. Mr. Bellini hasn't left her side."
Sophie pushed open the heavy door to the private room.
The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of heart monitors. Nonna Rosa lay in the hospital bed, looking small and fragile against the white sheets. Luca was sitting in a chair beside her, his suit rumpled, his hair messy, his head resting in his hands. He looked broken.
When the door clicked, Luca looked up.
When his eyes met Sophie’s, a look of profound, agonizing relief washed over his face. He stood up slowly. "Sophie..."
Sophie held up a hand, stopping him. "I'm not here for you, Luca. I'm here for her."
She walked past him, sitting down on the edge of the bed, and gently took Nonna Rosa’s thin, cold hand in hers.
Nonna Rosa’s eyes flickered open slowly. A faint smile touched her pale lips. "Ah... my little baker," the old woman whispered softly. "You came."
"Of course I came, Nonna," Sophie said softly, tears finally overflowing her lashes. "You need to rest. You need to take your medicine."
"I am old, Sophie," Nonna Rosa murmured, squeezing Sophie’s fingers with surprising strength. "My body is tired. But my heart hurts because of my foolish grandson."
Nonna Rosa looked past Sophie at Luca, who stood frozen near the window.
"He is a fool," Nonna Rosa said, her voice steadying. "He thinks he has to carry the weight of this family like an armor. He thinks love is a weakness that gets people killed. His father died because he trusted the wrong people, and Luca built a wall around his heart to protect himself."
Nonna Rosa looked back at Sophie. "He lied to me about your arrangement. I knew from the first night that he had hired you."
Sophie gasped softly. "You knew?"
"Of course I knew," Nonna Rosa chuckled faintly. "Luca doesn't know how to look at a woman with gentleness. But when he looked at you in my hallway... he looked terrified. Terrified that you would see right through him. He has never looked at anyone like that in his entire life."
Nonna Rosa pulled a heavy gold key from under her pillow and pressed it into Sophie’s palm.
"This is the key to my private vault at the estate," Nonna Rosa whispered. "In it are the original documents of the Bellini Trust. Mateo and Victoria want to sell our family heritage to foreign cartels. Luca is trying to stop them, but he is fighting dirty because he thinks he is alone."
Nonna Rosa looked into Sophie’s eyes with absolute intensity. "Don't let him fight alone, child. He needs your heart."
Before Sophie could process the words, the heart monitor began to beep rhythmically, signaling Nonna Rosa was slipping back into a peaceful sleep.
Luca stepped forward, setting a hand gently on Sophie’s shoulder. "Thank you," he rasped.
Sophie stood up, turning to face him in the dim room. She looked down at the gold key in her hand, then up into his dark, tortured eyes.
"We are going to finish this," Sophie declared, her tone sharp as glass. "Not for your contract, and not for your money. For her."
Luca looked at her, a fire igniting behind his dark eyes. "What do you want to do?"
"When is the family gala?" she asked.
May you like
"Tomorrow night," Luca replied. "At the Drake Hotel."
"Good," Sophie said, her chin lifting with dangerous determination. "Order me a dress. A red one."
