surprise upload!!!!!! sorry guys, i'm going on a trip tomorrow so i won't be able to upload then, so I thought i'd post now! i should be back in time for monday's upload. ❤️

in the mean time, thank you guys SO MUCH for all the feedback 😭 its so nice knowing you're liking this story so far, especially since i've never posted a dark romance before. i'll definitely keep it in mind for the future 👀 hope u enjoy the rest of the story 🥰

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I pace back and forth in my room, a frustrated groan escaping my lips. I've been up for hours now. I've showered, shaved my legs, washed my hair, gotten dressed, and done both my hair and makeup. Since then, I've responded to my emails, called some clients, and reached out to my assistant. She's taking some of my appointments while I'm away, but I don't trust that they're all going well.

"Come on, Jordan!" I bang on the door. "This is bullshit. I've been in here for hours!"

"I'm sorry, Sofie. There's nothing I can do!" he responds.

"There must be something! Cant, you talk to him?"

"To Sainte?" he scoffs. "I'm not even allowed near him."

"Then who is?"

"I don't know. Maybe my boss."

"Then talk to him!" I beg. "You can't leave me in here all day."

It won't be long anymore, I promise."

"Can you at least take me down there already? I'm sick of being here."

"Not yet. Maybe in a few minutes."

"Well, fuck that!" I slam my hand against the door. "This is so unfair."

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't know what else to tell you, Sofie. This is my job."

"Please, Jordan."

"What happened last night, anyway?" he asks. "You left that dinner after ten minutes. Did he kick you out?"

"Something like that," I tell him. I don't know what else to say. I don't know how much I'm allowed to tell him. Usually, I wouldn't care. But this is the boss we're talking about. I don't know what he wants his men to know, and I sure as shit don't want to get in any more trouble.

"Alright, fine," he says. "I'll let you out."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but only if you get lunch with me later."

"Actually?"

"It'll give you a chance to get to know everyone. We all know how much of a dick Sainte can be."

"Is that allowed?"

"I don't see why not. I haven't been told what to do you with you this afternoon."

"Deal," I don't need to be told twice. At this point, I'll take any chance I get to leave this room.

"Alright," Jordan opens the door, giving me a cautious once-over. "You're not gonna attack me, are you?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that? You're the one with the gun."

"But it's my job to protect you, not hurt you."

"Yeah," I nod sarcastically. "For now."

You never know in this family. You can never let your guard down. One mistake, and you're out. We might prefer to refer to ourselves as an organised crime family, but that's just a more dignified way of saying we're a drug cartel.

Kill or be killed.

Sainte's office isn't as hard to find as the dining room. It's not down the hallway, around three corners, and hidden in the back. It's on the top floor of the building, where there's nothing but wide-open space and two doors. Here, the carpet is grey, and the walls are a whiter shade. It looks more contemporary than the ground floor, but it's also a lot smaller.

We head to the door on the left, but Jordan tells me to stay back while he knocks on it.

"Name?" Sainte calls through the door.

"Makris, accompanied by Delfino," Jordan responds. A few seconds pass before Sainte speaks again.

"You may enter."

Jordan shoots me a quick glance, but then opens the door and ushers me inside. I hesitate for a second, the same way I did last night. I don't feel nervous, necessarily. I just feel... cautious. I need to be careful.

Saintes office is big. It's bigger than my apartment in New York. It's a lot lighter than I expected, too. There's a desk in the middle of the room, and the walls are covered in filing cabinets. there's a large window looking out over the front of the compound, but it's not light enough to stop me from noticing the blue glow coming from beside me. I turn to look at its source. There's a row of screens on the wall, each showing a different part of the house.

They're security cameras.

"Makris, wait outside," Sainte says. "Sofia, take a seat."

"It's Sofie," I remind him. He doesn't seem to care, though. His eyes are as blank as ever, giving me absolutely nothing. He's just sitting behind his desk, looking at me. I take a seat opposite him, trying my best to keep my eyes on him, too, but it's too tempting to look away. I hear Jordan close the door behind him, leaving me alone.

We sit in silence for a moment, both of us just watching each other.

He looks different than he did last night. He's not in a suit anymore, but a pitch-black button-up shirt. His hair is a little messier, and there's some light stubble on his face.

I want to yell at him, to tell him off for treating me like a prisoner all morning. But I can't find the courage. I may be here to be his wife, but as part of the family, he's technically my boss, even if I don't work for him.

"Are you going to tell me what happened last night?" he asks, leaning forward in his seat. I furrow my brows.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Your little... outburst, if you may."

"My outburst?" I scowl. "I didn't have an outburst."

"You spoke out of line and disobeyed a direct order."

"Oh, come on!" I roll my eyes. "That's fucking ridiculous."

"You blatantly disrespected me in front of my own people!"

"You can't just tell me what to do and expect me to obey! I'm not a fucking dog!"

"You are in my house, Sofia! You are a guest here and you will do as I say!"

"A guest?" I jump up out of my seat. "How am I guest when you're treating me like a fucking prisoner?!"

"You are behaving like a child!" he towers over me, his face turning red. His jaw is clenched and he's breathing so deeply his buttons almost pop off when he inhales. But I'm not afraid anymore.

"A child? I'm a child because I don't follow your every command? Because I don't bow down to you like all your little followers do?!"

"You have no idea what you're dealing with Sofia! This isn't a fucking fashion show! This is the mafia! You do as I say or you get hurt!"

"You're so fucking pathetic!"

"And your opinion is not of concern! You do as I say without hesitation. You obey my orders, no questions asked!"

"Fuck you, Sainte! You're fucking weak!" I spit. "I would never fucking marry you!"

He grips onto the edge of his desk, snapping the plank in half. His things fall to the floor, but he's not concerned. He leans over to be, his fists tightly clenched at his sides. My shoulders are tense and my heart is racing, but I refuse to give him. He huffs angrily, deeply breathing in and out, trying to hold himself back.

"Get the fuck out of my office," he orders. I stay frozen in place, glaring at him viciously. "Get the fuck out of my office, right fucking now!"

The sound of his voice sends shivers down my spine. Part of me wants to stay and challenge him, but I know I shouldn't. I turn away from him and slam the door shut behind me.