Chapter III: Birthright

Sofia struggled to wake, her head pounding and her mouth dry with eyes burning. A warmth enveloping her along with a masculine scent. With a startled gasp, she sat bolt upright, feeling the mattress beneath her bounce, before looking around her in confusion.

This was not her room, as a matter of fact, it was not even her house.

That realization had all the memories resurface back as she looked down at herself, finding herself tangled in the blanket the man had given her and still wearing Salvatore's suit jacket and the slight chill in the air made her realize she was naked.

Tears welled in her eyes to remember why she was bare and had the events resurface as she pulled the duvet closer to her, trying to choke down the sobs welling inside. 

In an attempt to ground herself, she looked at her surroundings, the shelves covered by framed pictures of people she didn't recognize and souvenirs, a study table beside her and a plastic bag at her feet. Curious about the bag, she pulled it towards her, the material crinkling in her hand as she looked inside, surprised to find clothes for her.

Instantly she took the bag got out of the covers and walked over to the archway to her right, hesitantly knocking on the door, she waited for a response before stepping inside, finding it vacant of anyone's presence. Seeing the shower cabin, she decided to wash up first.

After drying up, she pulled on the black yoga pants with a purple long hood, running her fingers through her fiery red hair before stepping out of the washroom. Looking around her, she made her way onto the platform that led to the lounge, jumping back to find someone in the kitchen at the left, a gasp escaping her as the man gave her a momentary glance over his shoulder before returning his attention to the counter.

"Sedersi." He told her, Sofia hesitant before settling at the bar counter, watching his back work around the small kitchen as the delicious smell finally hit her, her stomach rumbling loudly as she flushed at the sound.

After a moment, he put a plate of garlic basil chicken with tomato butter sauce with a side of mashed potatoes in front of her, followed by a glass of water.

Giving him a nod, she dug into the food, eating in silence with the man standing opposite her and watching her behind a masked expression. Feeling his piercing gaze at her, she looked up, getting a predatory vibe from him as she swallowed the bite.

"You...you are?" She asked him hesitantly.

"Marco," He introduced, sticking out his hand to her. "The guy who's supposed to take care of you," Sofia took his calloused palm into hers feeling him grip it firmly and give it a shake.

"Is this..." She looked around her. "Is this your apartment?"

"Yup,"

"You're supposed to look after me, right?"

"That's the order."

"And how do you propose to do that?"

Marco narrowed his eyes at the words, seeing a certain arrogance in her eyes as he couldn't help but scoff, realizing that she was the typical Mafia daughter.

"I suppose that means that you and I remain in the vicinity of each other,"

"So live together," She clarified as he nodded. "In this tiny space? You and I?"

The youngest Regnante couldn't help but run his tongue over his teeth behind his closed lips, telling himself that he had to be nice.

"I'll look into two-bedroom apartments tomorrow,"

"Make sure that it's big, I don't like small spaces," She wiped her mouth off with the napkin, tossing it beside the plate, and looked up at him. "I feel congested in them,"

Marco didn't say anything, watching her in amusement as she ordered him around and gave him a pretty little smile.

"I'm going to sleep," She got up from the bar counter, noticing that there was only one bed before musing to herself. "You can take the sofa,"

He had to clench his hands, digging his short clipped nails into his palms as he tried not to retaliate and be nice just for this one night. Instantly knowing that he and Sofia would not be getting along at all.

Sofia got under the covers, laying with her back to him as a shuddered breath escaped her and the tears leaked down, hearing him clean around the kitchen as she sniffled and wiped at her cheeks, telling herself that what's done is done and nothing can undo it.

Marco had no choice but to shift into the new apartment within two days, buying all the furniture, setting it up, and even working, he somehow managed to have moved in with everything going on.

It was a beautiful two-room apartment, the two rooms separated by the lounge in the middle and dining table.

Upon entering the apartment, Sofia could see a foyer leading to the open concept kitchen to her right. Dark wood flooring with granite counters, and light wood cupboards along with a bar counter for three. There was a door in the kitchen leading to the laundry room and in the center of the floor was the dining table: an elegant wood table with white high backed chairs for six. Ahead of the dining table was the lounge, two doors on either side of it. The lounge had the same floor as the rest of the apartment and was set up with a grey 7-seater, pushed against the wall to her right which was decorated by multicolored pillows and two identical single-seaters beneath the large window that led out to the balcony. A large flat screen T.V mounted on the wall to her left with a white low lying cabinet beneath it.

"That's your room," Marco pointed to the door against the wall of the T.V.

Pushing open the door, she stood in the doorway of the master bedroom which was set up very minimalistic. A bed in the center of the wall opposite her, accompanied by two side tables, her window looking out to the open space before her, and a vanity table to her left with two doors on either side of it. The one to the right led to the walk-in-closet and the left headed to the en-suite bath.

There was nothing personal about it.

"So that one is yours," Sofia pointed to the bedroom door behind her as Marco nodded.

Turning around, she looked around at the interior, having to admit that pulling all of this off in two days was an impressive feat. She found Marco pull on his overcoat by the dining table, and watched him leave the apartment, no doubt in her mind that he was going to his estate. It occurred to her to thank Salvatore for saving her from the future her father had in mind for her, and she supposed she should thank him for killing that man as well. He had never been loving towards her, as a matter of fact, as far as Sofia knew, her father had hated her.

As a little girl, he had always avoided her like the plague, never lifted her, nor smiled at her. She remembered hearing arguments between her parents revolving around her.

She had only wanted her father to acknowledge her, and no matter how good she was or how much she excelled, she was never noticed by her father. But her mother adored her, her mother was her angel throughout her life, keeping her safe and secure, and if she wasn't mistaken, then her mother was the one who reached out to Salvatore.

Taking out her phone, she dialed one of the only two numbers she had and held it to her ear.

"Could you take me with you?" She called into the device once he picked up.

"To the estate?" Marco's voice asked her.

"Yes. I want to thank Salvatore,"

A silence fell on the other line as she could hear the man inhale deeply.

"Fine, come downstairs."

Ending the call, she pulled on her coat and made her way out of the apartment which was her new home now.

The drive to the estate was a long and silent one, where neither music played, nor did they speak to each other. Marco spending the time looking ahead of him, and Sofia spending it looking at him.

"Quit it," He finally spoke, feeling her staring at the side of his face.

"You're different," Sofia said. "Looks-wise I mean,"

"Yeah, my siblings went after our grandfather who had black hair and blue eyes, while I went after our grandmother who had brown hair and brown eyes,"

"Sounds like a biological anomaly,"

"What?"

"The only way you can have your eyes blue is if both your parents have blue eyes and both Arcangelo and Rosalie have them. And the only way those two have blue eyes if that their parents had blue eyes, and you having brown eyes is a biological anomaly in that regard,"

"Not necessarily," Marco shook his head, trying to clear his head as he never had anyone point out the flaw in his words. "Arsenio's girls have the Regnante looks while their mom is blonde with grey eyes,"

"His wife must have heterozygous genes then,"

"Hetero-" He scoffed, amazed at the fact that she knew what she was talking about.

"-It's when there are-"

"-No, I know," Marco stopped her. "I didn't think you'd know,"

"I read it somewhere," Sofia shrugged and looked out the window, Marco raising an eyebrow convinced that there was something she was hiding.

They didn't speak anymore after that, the drive passing by in silence until they pulled up to the gates of the estate. The large metallic structure swinging open as he approached.

Sofia watched the looming figure of the estate coming into view and was left breathless like the first time she had come. The glittering of the walls, and the marble columns bathing the structure in a bright light that overshadowed the pure white of the snow covering the gardens.

"Sir," A man pulled open the door for Marco, greeting him with a bowed head as Sofia stepped out when another guard opened the door for her, an assault rifle in his hands. "The second in command has asked for you to join him when you arrive,"

"Let Tazio wait," Marco waved dismissively, turning to the guard before him. "How are you? How is the fever?"

"It's gone, sir," The man gave a smile to him as Marco nodded.

"You shouldn't be here, you're recovering," Sofia heard him say, beginning to walk ahead and towards the large double doors of the estate, giving a startled jump when she felt someone grab hold of her wrist. "You can't enter without authorization," Marco spoke, releasing her when she pulled away from him.

"Who do you think you are to touch me?" She growled at him.

"The Regnante heir, Ms. Giordano," His light brown eyes hardened as he straightened to tower over her. "The moment you would have put your hand on the handle, the snipers would have shot you down. Don't underestimate Salvatore's security measures, especially now that you're no longer Mafia," He spoke lowly, the words having her take a step back, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion, watching him raise a hand as a signal to someone before she followed after him once he stepped inside.

Looking towards the snow-covered trees, trying to find the snipers between the branches, but scoffed when she didn't see anything.

"You're lying," Sofia taunted, walking behind him. "There were no snipers in the trees,"

"I should have let them shoot you down then," Marco spoke nonchalantly, making his way to the east wing as she gritted her teeth at the words. Turning her gaze away from his back, she was taken aback by the luxury of the hallway before her: Greek columns with paintings lining the walls and pedestals with porcelain vases and a delicately woven rug running beneath her feet.

She had been so busy admiring the intricacy of the rug that she never noticed Marco stop and bumped into his back, the man turning to glare at her from over his shoulder as she straightened to return the glare.

"Stay here," He commanded before nodding to the two men on either side of the large wooden double doors, the guards pushing them open as a blinding light had Sofia turn her gaze away, the doors closing behind Marco.

Sofia crossed her arms over her chest, looking at the engraved double doors before her gaze shifted to the two suit-clad men who held guns ready. Taking a step back from them, she turned to look at the tapestry and portraits on the wall, marveling at the architectural beauty of the wing.

"Ma'am," The guard behind her spoke as she whirled around. "You've been summoned," They informed as they pushed open the doors.

The light bleeding out blinded her momentarily as she stepped inside, the door clicking closed behind her before her eyes adjusted to the brightness, realizing that the light was pouring in from the large wall window opposite her. She admired the interior, standing glued to her spot before finding Marco sitting on the leather sofa to her right, shuffling a deck of cards in his hands with Salvatore standing before the window and behind the large swivel chair behind the ebony desk.

"I heard you had something to say to me," Salvatore's voice drew her out of her inspection as she flushed and nodded. "Have a seat," He gestured to the two seats before the table as she settled in one of them, looking up to admire the Mafia Boss's profile.

He stood dressed in a two-piece navy blue suit with a white button-up, deep blue tie, and grey waistcoat.

Unbuttoning the first button of his suit jacket, he settled in the leather office chair as she swallowed and stared down at her nails.

"What is it that you wanted to say to me?" He asked as he pulled a page towards him, reading the contents and making notes.

"I wanted to thank you," Sofia blushed, unable to meet his gaze. "For saving me. It was very kind of you-"

"-It was part of an agreement," He halted her humble talk.

"Pardon?"

"Your mother, having been the Mafia Boss of the Giordano Mafia-"

"-What?"

"You don't know?" Salvatore looked up at her from below his lashes. "Your mother was the Mafia Boss, not your father."

Sofia's eyes widened at the words, staring at him with an open mouth as she tried to wrap her head around the words spoken.

"You have your mother's name, not your father's. The man you assume to be your father was your father's second-in-command. But your biological father died at our grandfather's hands when he tried to be ambitious before you were born. And your mother married your father's second-in-command so that you didn't grow up without a father figure and so that she had him portrayed as the image of the Mafia she controlled. He had no role in it besides to show his face at meetings she did not partake in," Salvatore sighed, leaning back in his seat. "Your mother made you her heir and left everything under your name, but she found out about her husband's motives of selling you off to someone who could use you as they pleased and make you disappear from the face of this earth to the world."

"But she had already fallen too ill to be able to do anything, so she reached out to me because I have the power to intervene,"

"Don't think I saved you as a kindness. In return for saving your life, you lost your status as a Mafia," Salvatore informed as Sofia's breath hitched in her throat, her mind reeling with all the information, certain things from her past making all the more sense, like why her mother never wore a wedding ring, or why her 'parents' didn't share a room. "In return for saving your life, I got your birthright, and thereby, the Giordano Mafia."

"Yes, I saved you, but I did not do you any kindness,"

Sofia's face was burning as she marched out of the office, the doors closing behind her as she walked down the same way she had come, distinctively hearing them open again before the sound of footsteps came behind her.

"Did you know?" She whirled around at Marco who stood before her with his shoulders loosened and his hands slipped into his slack's pockets. "Did you know all this?"

"Of course I did," He shrugged and began to walk past her. "What sort of a right-hand man would I be if I didn't know?"

In her anger, Sofia grabbed hold of his arm, pulling him to a stop as he turned around to face her with a raised eyebrow.

"You took my mother form me-"

"-Your mom died of cancer, God rest her soul. I liked her-"

"-You took my father from me-"

"-That we did. Technically it was our grandfather-"

"-You took my birthright from me-!"

"-It was either that or your funeral-"

"-You had no right-!"

"-Quite the contrary, it was an agreement arranged by your mother-" Marco began to say before his words died away to feel Sofia's palm whip across his cheek, the force reverberating through his skull as he felt the skin flare-up where her hand had connected.

Touching the tender skin of his jaw, he noticed the guards move ahead with their guns outstretched, hesitating when Marco held up a hand to stop them.

Rubbing at the abused spot, he stood straight, looking down at Sofia from the tip of his nose as her breath came out in harsh pants with her fair skin burning.

"Sofia," He cooed with hard eyes, grabbing hold of her shoulder and pushing her against the wall. "Who the fuck do you think you are to raise a hand on me?" He gave her a sardonic smile, her words dying down in her throat to see the resentment in his eyes.

"You had two options," Marco gripped her jaw, turning her to face him as she whimpered to feel his short clipped nails digging into her skin. "Either you give up your birthright in exchange for your life, or you retain your birthright in exchange for becoming a rape doll to twisted and sick old men who would use your body as they please with your father taking over the Mafia that was originally yours." His words sent chills down her spine as the tears stung her eyes.

"Your mother took the lesser of two evils and ensured your safety in her dying moments," Marco informed, tightening his grip when she tried to pull away, a small whimper escaping her. "But if you don't want that, I'm sure we can find men prowling in search for fresh meat," He gritted the words out and shoved her away; forcing her to collide with the wall, gasping at the sensation before looking up at the man before her.

"The next time you raise your hand on me," He growled at her, tearing the gun from his holster and pressing the barrel to her forehead, his eyes burning. "I will personally put a bullet through your head, you get that?"

"Get off your high pedestal princess, you have lost your crown to the king,"