Page 32 of Traded to the Mafia

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God, this is going to be a seriously trying time.

I drive to my apartment and pack three bags with everything I need. I’ve stayed at the estate before on security detail, and it’s mostly got what I need regarding weapons, so it’s just clothes and toiletries that I grab.

I look at myself in the entrance hall mirror and grimace. My eye is still swollen shut, and my face is colorful with different shades of bruises.

I take a moment to relax and take a deep breath in and out until my heart rate is down. I don’t know how I’m going to be around Sofia and not want to get involved with her, but I must stick to my guns.

Besides, her father might not be impressed if I shack up in her bed with her, and that could jeopardize the plan to overthrow Jose, and then my brother will be ordering my execution. Best to keep it business-like and without any complications.

I turn and leave, carrying my bags downstairs and trying to think about anything but Sofia.

Chapter 20 - Sofia

I unpack my things and arrange the closet since I’m going to be here for a while. I need to have the rest of my stuff from the house sent to this estate so I can be more comfortable. I try to think about anything other than the hurtful words Dominic said. It’s not like he hasn’t said to my face that I’m a naive princess but somehow discussing it with someone I don’t know, who he hardly knows, hurts more.

Once I’m done unpacking, I decide to go downstairs and explore the house, seeing what there will be to do here while I’m alone during the day. Maybe later, I can look at my college applications.

I walk through the vast home, trying to learn my way around. As I finish my little tour, I hear a car pull up and look out the living room window. It’s Dominic.

I trace my steps back to the kitchen and the back door. I don’t feel like looking at him right now.

It’s dark outside, but a spotlight illuminates the garden when I step onto the patio. It’s beautiful with a lot of flowers. I stand and admire it until I become aware of his presence behind me.

“Are you finding everything okay?” he asks. I can tell he’s trying to be nice, but I’m not in the mood for his hot and cold temperament.

“Do I have a choice?” I ask, crossing my arms.

He walks to the garden furniture near some potted flowers and sits down.

“Look, we can at least be civil since we’re stuck with each other, okay?” he sits back and sets his hand down on the table. Suddenly he springs up shouting, “Fuck!”

I jump back in fright. “What is it?” I ask, my anger forgotten and concern in my voice. I go over to him immediately and look at his hand. I see a bee, and its stinger is still stuck in his hand.

“Oh, that shit hurts,” I say. “Come on. I’ve got a tweezer to get it out.”

He follows me upstairs, and I get my tweezer out, turning around to look at his hand again. I frown. “Is it swelling up?”

“It hurts like a fucker,” he says, sweat beading his brow.

“Are you allergic?” I ask, wide-eyed.

He stares at me as though I’m mad and then coughs slightly. “My chest feels tight, Jesus. I think I am allergic. I’ve never been stung before.”

I take his hand and quickly pull the stinger out, wrapping it in a hand towel. “We need to get you to the emergency room.”

I hurry him downstairs, and I can hear his breathing getting labored. Luckily, I know of a hospital not far away because we drove by. We throw ourselves into the car, and I floor it. I scream at the guards to open the gate, and once they do, I rush into traffic, hazard lights on. I hoot as I weave in and out of traffic as fast as I can. It takes about ten minutes to reach the emergency room, and once there, I can hear he’s really struggling to breathe.

I get him out of the car and hurry him into the emergency waiting room. “Please, someone help!” I yell. “He’s been stung, and he’s allergic.”

Some nurses rush to us and usher him off while one nurse takes me to the front desk to complete some forms. I stare at the forms as if they come from another plant.

“I…uh…don’t know him that well,” I admit to the nurse, who gives me a rather judgmental look. I frown at her. “We only met recently. He was…visiting when he got stung by a bee.”

She takes the clipboard from me. “He’ll have to fill it out before he leaves then. You can take a seat, and someone will come to get you once he’s in the clear.”

I wait anxiously, sitting on the edge of the seat. Every time someone walks out from the ICU area, I look up hopefully. Oh God, I hope he didn’t die. That would complicate my current situation, and I’d also feel terrible because I’ve been such a bitch to him.

I eventually pick up a magazine and try to read it while I wait. Then I go through another. On the third one, a doctor comes out. “Is anyone here for Dominic Sorvino?”


Tags: Veda Rose Romance