Setting: The Mafia Gala – The Rosetti Estate
Sophia's heart pounded in her chest.
Nathaniel.
His name burned in her mind as their gazes locked across the grand ballroom. His normally composed demeanor was shattered, his expression a mix of anger, disbelief, and something else—something dangerous.
Her fingers tightened around Alexander's arm.
She could feel his muscles tensing beneath his suit, his body coiled like a predator preparing to strike.
"Stay close," Alexander murmured.
His voice was calm, but beneath it lay a warning.
Sophia swallowed, shifting her gaze back to Nathaniel. He was already moving toward them, his strides quick and determined.
The entire room seemed to hold its breath.
The air thickened with tension as guests discreetly turned their attention toward the unfolding scene.
Sophia knew that every person here was waiting to see how this would play out.
Nathaniel came to a stop in front of them, his jaw clenched, his dark blue eyes flashing with fury.
"Sophia," he said, his voice tight. "We need to talk. Now."
Sophia's breath caught.
Nathaniel had always been charming, smooth, and in control.
But this?
This was raw. Unrestrained. Possessive.
Before she could respond, Alexander shifted beside her, stepping slightly in front of her, his posture relaxed but undeniably dominant.
"I don't recall giving you permission to speak to my fiancée," Alexander said smoothly, his tone laced with ice.
Nathaniel's eyes darkened further.
"Fiancée?" he spat, his gaze flickering between them. "You expect me to believe that you two are actually engaged?"
Sophia's fingers dug into Alexander's arm.
She could feel the weight of a hundred eyes on them.
Alexander chuckled softly, a sound that sent a chill down her spine.
"You don't have to believe it," he said, tilting his head slightly. "But you'll have to accept it."
Nathaniel's fists clenched at his sides.
"She doesn't belong to you, Blackwood," he said coldly. "I don't care what kind of deal you've made."
Alexander's smirk didn't waver, but his eyes turned lethal.
Sophia had seen that look before.
It was the look of a man who had destroyed people for less.
"Belong?" Alexander repeated, amusement in his tone, but his grip on Sophia's waist tightened, claiming her in front of everyone.
"You sound like a man who lost something important," Alexander continued, his voice deceptively light.
Nathaniel took a step closer, his rage barely contained.
"I know what you're doing," Nathaniel said, his voice dropping to a low, threatening whisper. "You're using her. She's just another pawn in whatever game you're playing."
Sophia's stomach twisted.
Because for a brief moment, she wasn't sure if Nathaniel was wrong.
Alexander had been clear from the beginning—this was a contract, a game of power and control.
But the way he held her, the way his touch burned against her skin, made her question how much of it was real.
Before she could say anything, Alexander's grip on her waist tightened further as he leaned in, his lips brushing just below her ear.
"Then tell me, Sophia," Alexander murmured, his voice loud enough for Nathaniel to hear.
"Do you want to leave with him?"
Sophia's breath hitched.
Nathaniel's eyes bore into her.
The entire room waited.
Silence stretched between them, suffocating, expectant.
She had a choice.
And everyone was watching.
But before she could answer, another voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"Well, this is quite the show."
The voice was smooth, laced with amusement and something far more sinister.
Sophia's blood ran cold.
Lorenzo Rosetti.
The heir to the Rosetti crime family.
He approached with casual arrogance, his green eyes gleaming as he looked between the three of them.
"A woman caught between two powerful men," Lorenzo mused. "How deliciously cliché."
Alexander's jaw ticked, but he remained composed.
Nathaniel, however, was already glaring at Lorenzo. "This doesn't concern you, Rosetti."
Lorenzo smirked, sipping from his glass of whiskey. "Oh, but it does. See, I find it fascinating when a woman becomes the center of a power struggle. It's so… poetic."
His gaze flickered to Sophia.
"And in this case, I wonder—who really holds the leash?"
Sophia's breath caught.
She knew what Lorenzo was doing.
He was testing Alexander.
Pushing him.
And judging by the way Alexander's fingers flexed against her waist, he was dangerously close to crossing a line.
But before Alexander could respond, Lorenzo tilted his head, his gaze flickering to Nathaniel.
"You, on the other hand," Lorenzo mused, "seem a little too emotional for a man who supposedly let her go."
Nathaniel's jaw tightened.
"You should watch your mouth, Rosetti," he said coldly.
Lorenzo grinned. "And you should watch your hands. Because from where I'm standing, it looks like Blackwood is the one holding her now."
Sophia's heart pounded.
She had spent years in high society, maneuvering through the games of the rich and powerful.
But this?
This was something else entirely.
This was a battlefield, and she was standing in the center.
She could feel Alexander's rage simmering just beneath the surface, and she knew that if she didn't stop this soon, it would escalate into something far worse.
So she did the only thing she could.
She turned in Alexander's arms, her hands pressing against his chest, and lifted herself on her toes.
And then—she kissed him.
The room gasped.
Nathaniel froze.
Lorenzo's smirk widened.
And Alexander?
Alexander didn't hesitate.
His hand slid to the back of her neck, deepening the kiss, his lips demanding, claiming her in front of everyone.
By the time they pulled apart, the message was clear.
Sophia wasn't leaving with Nathaniel.
And no one—not Nathaniel, not Lorenzo, not anyone—would challenge Alexander Blackwood's claim on her.
Not without consequences.
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End of Chapter 6