"You haven't text me in a while."

Liliana D'Onofrio was fixing Sophia with a pointed stare, one brow arched in question and her lips pursed is disapproval as she waited for an explanation. Sophia felt somewhat guilty for avoiding her friend for so long, she certainly had missed her company like crazy, but Liliana had been laying low since the attack and Sophia knew in order to avoid Giovanni she had to keep her distance from the house.

"Sorry, I've been busy, preoccupied."

"With?" Liliana asked, not sounding convinced as she took her first sip of the lemon ice tea Sophia had ordered for her before she'd arrived.

"Graduation," she lied. Not that she hadn't graduated this summer, she had, but it was certainly not the graduation that kept her so distracted. In fact it was Liliana's husband that had been keeping Sophia so busy these past months - the great Mercello D'Onofrio. The infamous Mafia Don had been busy amassing her great uncles empire, and with it Sophia and her particular set of skills. Not to mention with Angelo and Gio indisposed with their injuries, she had covered their work too.

A lot of running around for one assassin.

And a lot of bullshit men for one woman to deal with.

It was funny the warped sense of self-importance men in their line of business had. Never did they fail to to underestimate her either. What else were they to think when they encountered the blonde party girl that she was, a drink in her hand, tight dress to show off her assets and killer heels to stand tall and proud above the crowds - other than to believe she was a flirtatious drunk to do with as they pleased. And how wrong they were. She had enjoyed putting each and every one of them in their place, under the orders of Signor D'Onofrio.

The pressures of becoming the D'Onofrio's silent right-hand woman would have been more than enough to deal with. Except Sophia hadn't been just the niece and assassin to the deceased Alessandro Barbato; she was also the only daughter of Nikolai Raptis, a key member of the Russian mob. There was no question as to which side of her family she preferred.

Yes, her mothers Italian lineage led to some awfully powerful men of whom Sophia was very familiar with, but it was her fathers Russian heritage, that struck fear into her. As someone who killed for money, that had to say something. She didn't know much of her father's operations, he was far to 'traditional' - sexist - to believe a woman could be involved in the business. But she knew enough to know even if her father did want her involved, she sure as hell would take no part in it. Drugs, murder, money laundering; that was a world she was used to, could accept. Human trafficking? The theft of a human being, the violation of their bodies, their minds, their free will; and exposing those women to world more sadistic and unforgiving than they could ever be prepared for? That's where she drew the line.

"We should do something together, go somewhere other than this cafe, it's getting a little repetitive," Liliana mused, completely unaware of Sophia's thoughts, and Sophia was perfectly content to keep it that way. Liliana didn't need to know of all the filthy things she involved herself with, she didn't want Liliana to view her any differently. It was a stupid concern considering her friends husband was the one controlling it all, leading the empire, but a concern she couldn't shake nonetheless.

"Yeah..." Sophia clear her throat, taking an awfully large gulp of coffee. "We'll arrange something soon."

The smile she shot Liliana was pathetic, and she wasn't at all surprised by her friends next question.

"You would tell me if something was wrong wouldn't you? You would tell me if you weren't okay?"

"I'm fine, I promise," she assured earnestly, "I've just been busy, running the bar and everything." And running after all of your husband's enemies. Truthfully the bar she had inherited from Alessandro, The Alchemist, didn't need her attention at all. She had hired enough staff to take care of it without her ever needing to check on anything. The only time she ever visited was to drink and play pool with Paolo and Cal.

Liliana didn't seem convinced by her lies.

"Seriously, I think everything has just been a bit difficult on us all these past months. Alessandro's death, Giovanni's injuries," she admitted, revealing the smallest hint of vulnerability to her best friend. "You know some of the men still believe he's still alive?"

"Trust me," Liliana grimaced, "I was there. As much as I wish it didn't, It happened."

Sophia shrugged a shoulder half-heartedly.

"Whatever helps them get through it. How are you though?"

"Better," Liliana sighed, as if just thinking about herself was tiring."I'm doing better. Me and Mercello are going to therapy together."

"You got the great Mercello D'Onofrio to go to therapy with you?"

"It was his idea actually."

"And the therapy works then?"

"Like I said, we're doing much better."

"Wow," Sophia exhaled, leaning back in her chair. "Maybe I should give it a whirl. How much longer do you have left?" Sophia asked, nodded at Liliana's stomach.

"Don't remind me," Liliana groaned, rolling her eyes. "Forty-seven days exactly if this little bean decides to come out on the due date. I'm absolutely petrified."

"Hardly a little bean any-more," Sophia laughed, eyeing the 8 month pregnancy belly. "Aw fuck," she then swore when she noticed Liliana's eyes misting up a little. "I didn't mean it like that. You're not fat for fuck's sake."

Sophia had never been more thankful for a disruption when she heard the cafe doors open and the sight of Mercello walking towards them entered her sights. He didn't say a word as he made his way to their table, sitting down beside his wife and placing a bag on the table in front of her.

Liliana was grinning as she searched the bag, pulling out a tub of ice-cream and the largest jar of pickles Sophia had ever seen. What on earth.

"It's such shame," her friend sighed, "that I can't eat this since Sophia thinks I'm fat," Liliana commented drearily with a heavy pout.

Sophia opened her mouth quickly to retort, a defence on the tip of her tongue when she noticed the teasing glint to Liliana's eye and the small smile threatening to break through.

Mercello on the other hand, hadn't noticed his wife was joking. A fierce scowl was thrown Sophia's way as he hissed, "You know we don't use the F-word!"

"You're so easy to rile up!" Liliana snickered at her husband before he could spit any more fire Sophia's way, staring up at him with a wide grin and the same usual soppy expression she always looked at him with.

"And you have been spending far too much time with Angelo," he grumbled but offered her a chaste kiss all the same.

"You two make me sick," Sophia joked, eyeing her friend as Liliana beamed at her husband. Mercello rolled his eyes at Sophia's comment, and didn't offer a retort.

"What, you're just going to stay silent now?"

Mercello fixed Sophia with a stare that would have anyone else scrambling out of their seat. Not many people would dare to tease such a powerful man. He needed to get over himself.

"Hey, we're family Mer, you can't intimidate me." Sure, Sophia was working for him, and would obey his every command when it came to the family business, but when they were socialising and with friends and family, nothing could stop her from taking the chance to irritate him. If he ever snapped at her, or spoke rudely in response, Liliana was quick to chastise him. It was amusing to Sophia how much Mercello was wrapped around his wife's finger.

They were clearly both so enamoured with each other. A fact Mercello did not like Sophia to mention whenever they were together - hating to be reminded of his 'weak' human emotions. Fucking typical man.

She honestly used to hate Mercello. She used to hate all of Giovanni's family. But in these last few months she really couldn't deny how well Mercello treated his family. The man Sophia had known was merely a mask of the D'Onofrio man. It didn't mean he still didn't have annoying traits in him though. She thanked every day that Giovanni - when they had been together - didn't share the same mannerisms as his eldest brother.

There were very few men in Sophia's life who didn't display signs of sexism or toxic masculinity. She was honestly baffled how a man like Giovanni even existed in an uber masculine society of crime such as theirs. Not to say he couldn't be and absolute idiot just as well as the rest of them.

***

Sophia shifted uncomfortably on the couch she had sprawled across, eyes narrowed to a glare and fixed on the white ceiling and not the man watching her intently from across the room.

"I thought we had moved on. I thought we had put everything beside us," she scoffed, feeling the same anger from last night rumble inside her once again. "He can't just keep showing up in my life again now that he's decided he wants me. Fucking prick."

"What happened when you saw each other?"

"He told me he still loved me. That he doesn't want to live without me. Who just says that to someone? At a public event? He's always been like that."

"Open with his feelings?"

"Insane."

From beside her, her phone beeped, cutting her rant short. She glanced at the screen only briefly before, sighing and sitting up.

"I've got to go," Sophia uttered, finally glancing towards the other occupant of the room. Pablo was sat at his kitchen counter, a beer in hand.

"Let's not do this again, okay?" Her friend smirked, taking a long drink.

"You're such an asshole," Sophia hissed as she clambered to her feet, thrusting up her middle finger towards him. "Do you want me to cut you off at the bar? Do you want to start paying for your drinks?"

"Hey, hey, hey, lets not be hasty now!" He exclaimed.

Sophia only rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, "fucking typical man."

"We meeting up tonight?" he answered with a laugh.

"No."

"You got another job? He's really running you ragged. How does one man have so many enemies."

"Are you surprised? Alessandro's gone. Valentino Fiorenza is gone. Sebestiano D'Onofrio has been M.I.A for months. Everyone's scrambling for power and trying to secure their position at the top, and we're damn well not going to fall behind. Mercello D'Onofrio is the Don and I'll kill as many men as I have to to secure it as such."

"Do you think maybe you're investing yourself into this a little too much, to avoid something else that really needs confronting?"

"You're not a therapist Pablo," Sophia grumbled, narrowing her eyes at the grinning man.

"You couldn't afford me, babe." He winked at her. Scoffing, she turned on her heels and stalked out the door without another word.

It didn't take her long to arrive at her destination. She was already armed, as she usually was these days when Mercello could call on her at any second, and completing a job quickly and discreetly was the goal. She glanced around the dimly lit bar, her upper lip curling at the midday drunks that were in attendance. It was barely 3pm.

She didn't stall in the doorway observing for too long, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to herself. She would go to the bar first, get herself a drink and then evaluate the situation. As she stalked across the room, she gathered many eyes but it was hardly anything to worry about, just the same interest she always received, the same interest most women received from overconfident men that had no understanding of respectable boundaries. She hadn't even dressed for the mission, her faded jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket and trainers were hardly the outfit of a woman out to lure a man to death. But she was good at improvising.

When she was sipping on a shot of vodka, her phone in hand as she pretended to scroll through social media, Sophia took the time to discreetly scan the room. To her relief, the man she was looking for was only two seats away from her at the bar. She caught his eye, watched him quickly glance away in a fluster of having been caught ogling her, and allowed a soft smile to pull at the corner of her lips when he inevitability glanced back towards her.

She bit her lip, shyly taking another sip of her drink, and looked back at her phone.

It didn't take long for the man to slip onto the barstool beside her. His movements were somewhat clumsy, and it was clear to Sophia that he was already a few drinks in.

"What's your name, sugar?"

Not sugar, that's for sure.

"Samantha," she answered confidently, coyly tucking back a strand of her dark blond hair.

Her phone was tucked back into her pocket, and one of the man's large hands fell heavily to hers.

"Samantha's a pretty name," he smirked, seemingly growing more confidence in himself now. Sophia wasted no time in flirting back with him, running a hand up his thigh, leaning closer to him. It wasn't long before she knew he was ready to leave with her, where she could take him somewhere a little more private, and complete her task from Mercello. She hadn't asked why this man needed to be killed, she never did. That wasn't information she was privy to as an assassin. All she was told was who and where and when.

Grabbing her glass to down whatever was left of its contents, Sophia almost choked on her drink the second she saw Giovanni sat across the room, accompanied by three drunk men, all of them laughing together boisterously. His eyes caught hers above the rim of a beer glass, the amusement in them enough to have her temper rising.

It seemed her companion beside her had also noticed the presence of one of the great D'Onofrio brothers. He was, not so subtly, glancing towards Giovanni, his upper lip sweating and his hand shaking ever so slightly as he tried to hold his drink. All of Sophia's perfectly crafted flirting was coming undone within seconds. Gone was the compliant drunken man, instead a startled fool one second from running was sat beside her. Men were idiots when they were scared, they were unpredictable and dangerous.

Now Sophia was even more furious at the smirking man across the room.

She was a damn good assassin for a reason, and Giovanni was threatening to blow her cover just by his presence in the same room as her.

Sophia had killed many men in her lifetime, and still no one had associated her name with the Barbato or D'Onofio empire. Women, after all, were not mafioso, they couldn't be involved in the business, in their crime, and thus no one ever suspected her. But Giovanni? They knew him all right, just as they knew the other D'Onofrio brothers, and knew perfectly well what he was capable of.

She needed to get her mark out of here and fast, before her whole operation was ruined. Did Mercello know he was here, getting in her way?

Sophia had no words as she grabbed her marks hand, and pulled the drunken man to his feet. If he was surprised by her sudden shift in attitude he didn't let it show, still thankfully perfectly willing to be led out of the bar by a pretty blonde.

It was as they were leaving the bar, Sophia ushering the man towards her car that had been parked discreetly out of the way of prying eyes, that the first bullet of a foreign gun found its target in her left arm.

***

knew, without a doubt, that Sophia Raptis was one of the most gorgeous women to grace the earth - even when she was directing that fierce glare of hers towards him. She did well, when it came to conveying her anger; and she often was angry when it came to his continued presence in her life. A lesser man may have faltered under such a gaze, may have rolled over and allowed her her victory. But he was not a lesser man, and his love for her reigned stronger than any attempts at distance she tried to place between them.

But when she glared at him like that, so fierce he though for sure he should ignite into flames at any moment, all he was reminded of was her intense passion. Damn if he didn't miss such a passion.

"Excuse me," he murmured to the men who sat beside him in the pub, his mind clearly elsewhere as he stood abruptly to his feet, eyes following Sophia's path across the bar and out the back doors.

She could run from him all she liked, it would do her no good. Not when he had seen that spark of fire, and desire, in her eyes yesterday evening. She was still very much attracted to him, regardless of their significant time apart, and that was all Giovanni had needed to see to know all hope was not lost between them.