Infatuated: Mafia Romance

VI

Sophia's stare settled on the sleeping girl worriedly.

"I've been meaning to ask you where you ran off to during the party. I saw you with that man. Crazy that he is a Romanov—and he and his sister are so attractive!"

Sophia occupied herself in patting Lacy lightly on the shoulder so that she would wake.

"What did he say to you?" Maeve prodded further.

"I was mostly talking to the sister, Helena Romanov," Sophia told her, hoping to keep the details of her encounter vague, "I can see why Giovanni is so taken by her."

Sensing Maeve's growing interest, she immediately regretted her statement; as the supermodel had been nothing short of a predator during their time in the lounge. The bartender's arrival had also been a cause of concern to her and she bit her lip firmly, hoping to not let any information slip.

Amidst Sophia's apprehension, Lacy's eyes opened and she murmured to both of them girlishly. They paused their conversation and toted her to one of the guest bedrooms where Maeve gave her another glass of water and insisted to her that she drink it.

Just as Sophia had finished covering her with a fluffy blanket, the distinctive sound of the heavy, iron door-knocker echoed up the stairs.

Maeve turned to Sophia, seeing her pale. "A visitor? At this time of night?"

Sophia's voice grew shaky. "I'm sure it's just the driver. Maybe one of us left one of our purses in the cab."

"Well, let's go answer it," Maeve told her.

"No, no," Sophia quickly halted her, "Don't bother. Watch after Lacy and I'll be back in a minute to help you."

She closed the door behind her, lingering in the hallway to ensure that Maeve would not follow. Chest pounding, she descended the polished, bocote stairs and into the decorated entryway. The large door served as little protection to her as she crept towards the judas-window and peeked outside.

Just as when the letter of warning had been left, the outdoor entry looked ominously empty. The lit lamplight did little to brighten the hedge-framed courtyard and Sophia inwardly battled whether or not to open the door.

Despite her fear, she shakily undid the latch: for if it were the Romanov man or his affiliates, she knew she must answer.

"Hello?" she called out softly, the lock still beneath her hands.

A lush bouquet of roses was placed upon the ground. Its petals glowed luridly beneath the lamplight and Sophia plucked it from the entryway hurriedly before dashing back into the house.

Relieved at the gift, she wandered down the hall and towards the kitchen, turning on the lights so that she could inspect the bouquet further. Her fingers slid across its stems and tugged at the small card that was fastened to the roses with a simple, lace bow. Her name was inscribed within it, each character flowing in a calligraphic swell of ink.

The voice was that of Kane Romanov.

Sophia stiffened, the bouquet smashing to the floor as she let out a muffled scream.

Grabbing a lone bottle of pricey merlot from atop the countertop, he studied her aptly. "Stay quiet," he ordered.

Terrified, Sophia fell against the cabinet, reaching for a knife within the butcher's block and grasping it tightly. "Don't come near me!" she told him, pointing the meager weapon in his direction.

Kane noted her incorrect form and regarded her petulantly. "I won't bite," he began, a wide smirk upon his face. Taking a step towards her, he set down the bottle so that the glass pounded heavily against the countertop.