Chapter 6 - The Bullet Meant for Sophie
For one impossible second, Sophie heard nothing.
Not the gunfire.
Not the shouting.
Not the shattering glass.
Only Nicholas hitting the terrace floor.
“Nicholas!”
She crawled toward him.
His hand clamped around her wrist.
“Down.”
“You're shot.”
“I noticed.”
Even now.
Even bleeding.
Sarcasm.
Sophie almost screamed at him.
Security men flooded the terrace.
Marco dragged them behind the stone wall while Gabriel returned fire toward the trees.
“Where?” Marco shouted.
“East ridge!”
Nicholas pressed a hand against his side.
Blood spread between his fingers.
Sophie felt panic rise.
“Let me see.”
“Later.”
“Now.”
“Sophie—”
“Do not mafia-boss me right now.”
His eyes met hers.
Then, absurdly, he smiled.
“You're impossible.”
“And you're bleeding on expensive stone.”
She pulled his hand away.
The bullet had cut across his ribs rather than entering directly.
A graze.
A deep one.
But not the catastrophic wound Sophie had imagined.
She exhaled so hard she nearly cried.
Nicholas noticed.
“You thought—”
“Shut up.”
He did.
Mostly because another bullet struck the terrace wall.
Marco shouted orders.
Gabriel crouched beside Nicholas.
“Can you move?”
“Yes.”
“Then move.”
They retreated inside.
The mansion transformed instantly.
Steel shutters descended over windows.
Doors locked.
Security teams spread through corridors.
A doctor arrived within minutes.
Sophie sat beside Nicholas while the wound was cleaned and stitched.
“You can stop staring,” he said.
“No.”
“I'm fine.”
“You were shot.”
“Grazed.”
“By a bullet.”
“Technically.”
She glared.
The doctor hid a smile.
Nicholas noticed.
“You're enjoying this.”
“Immensely,” Sophie said.
The doctor finished.
“No strenuous activity for at least several days.”
Sophie looked at Nicholas.
“He won't listen.”
“I know,” the doctor said.
Nicholas stared at both of them.
“I regret introducing you.”
“You didn't.”
“Then I regret allowing this conversation.”
After the doctor left, Gabriel entered.
“We found the firing position.”
Nicholas stood.
Sophie pushed him back into the chair.
He looked offended.
“Sit.”
Gabriel laughed.
Nicholas glared at him.
“You've been alive for less than a day. Don't make me reconsider how I feel about that.”
Gabriel's smile faded.
“The shooter left something.”
He placed a cartridge casing on the table.
A small V had been carved into the brass.
“Vittorio,” Sophie said.
“Or someone wants us to think Vittorio.”
Nicholas looked at Gabriel.
“You doubt it?”
“I doubt everything.”
Sophie folded her arms.
“Healthy family.”
Neither brother disagreed.
Marco entered carrying a tablet.
“Boss, you need to see this.”
Security footage showed a vehicle approaching the east service road twenty minutes before the shooting.
Black sedan.
No plates.
Then another camera.
The driver stepped out.
Sophie leaned closer.
A woman.
Tall.
Blonde.
Nicholas's expression changed.
“You know her?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
He didn't answer immediately.
Gabriel did.
“Camille Laurent.”
Sophie looked between them.
“And Camille Laurent is?”
Nicholas looked uncomfortable.
That interested Sophie.
“Why are you making that face?”
“What face?”
“The one where you suddenly wish someone would shoot you again.”
Gabriel laughed.
“She's his former fiancée.”
Sophie stared at Nicholas.
“Your what?”
“It was arranged.”
“That was not the question.”
“We were engaged for six months.”
“Interesting.”
“It wasn't.”
“To me it is.”
Gabriel leaned against the wall.
“I like her.”
Nicholas glared.
“Sophie or Camille?”
“Sophie.”
“Good answer.”
Sophie looked at the footage again.
“Why would your former fiancée be helping your uncle?”
Nicholas's expression darkened.
“Her father worked with Vittorio.”
“Did you know?”
“I suspected.”
“Why did you break up?”
Nicholas looked at her.
“Because she wanted to marry Nicholas Falcone.”
Sophie waited.
“And?”
“She had no interest in Nicholas.”
The answer affected Sophie more than she wanted it to.
She looked away.
Gabriel cleared his throat.
“I'll leave before this becomes emotionally healthy.”
Nicholas threw a folded napkin at him.
For the first time since seeing him alive, Gabriel laughed like a brother.
Then Marco's phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“It's the library.”
Sophie stood.
“What?”
“Fire alarm.”
Her stomach dropped.
They arrived twenty minutes later.
Smoke poured from the rear entrance.
Firefighters surrounded the building.
Sophie tried to run toward it.
Nicholas grabbed her.
“No.”
“My library.”
“You can't go inside.”
“My office—”
“Sophie.”
“My mother's things are in there!”
She struggled.
Nicholas held her.
“Let them work.”
Flames glowed behind the upstairs windows.
Sophie watched years of her life burn.
Children's drawings.
Photographs.
Books she had repaired.
The desk where she had eaten hundreds of lunches.
Everything.
Nicholas stood behind her.
She didn't realize she was crying until he turned her into his chest.
She let him.
For several minutes, she simply stood there while smoke rose into the night.
Then a firefighter approached.
“Ms. Carter?”
Sophie pulled away.
“Yes?”
“We found evidence of an accelerant near the rear stairwell.”
Nicholas's face hardened.
“Arson.”
“Looks that way.”
Sophie closed her eyes.
Vittorio.
The firefighter continued.
“We also found this outside your office.”
He handed her a small metal object sealed in a plastic evidence bag.
A silver compass.
Sophie stared.
“My necklace.”
Her hand flew to her throat.
Empty.
She hadn't noticed it was gone.
Nicholas looked at her.
“When did you last have it?”
“At the mansion.”
Gabriel arrived behind them.
“That isn't hers.”
Sophie looked at him.
“What?”
He examined the compass through the plastic.
“Evelyn's was one of two.”
Nicholas stared.
“Who had the other?”
Gabriel's expression darkened.
“I did.”
Silence.
Sophie looked at the burning building.
“So someone took yours?”
“No.”
Gabriel reached beneath his shirt.
His compass was still there.
Sophie felt cold.
“Then there were three.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“Not that I knew of.”
Nicholas looked at the replica.
“A message.”
Gabriel nodded.
Sophie asked, “What message?”
Nicholas's phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Camille Laurent's voice came through.
“You always did prefer damaged things, Nicholas.”
His expression hardened.
“Camille.”
Sophie heard her laugh.
“You should have married me.”
“I'd rather be shot again.”
Sophie almost smiled.
Camille continued.
“Give Vittorio the ledger.”
“No.”
“Then the next fire won't be an empty building.”
Nicholas looked at Sophie.
“Where are you?”
“Closer than you think.”
The call ended.
Marco approached quickly.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We traced it.”
“Where?”
Marco looked toward the street.
“Across from us.”
Nicholas turned.
On the roof of a building opposite the library stood a woman.
Blonde hair moved in the wind.
Camille.
She lifted one hand.
Waved.
Then stepped backward out of sight.
Nicholas's men moved immediately.
Gabriel ran toward the vehicle.
Sophie caught Nicholas's sleeve.
“Wait.”
He turned.
She looked at the burning library.
Then at the silver compass.
Something didn't fit.
“Why burn the library after we already found the hiding place?”
Nicholas stopped.
Sophie continued.
“They weren't destroying evidence.”
“What were they doing?”
She looked toward the firefighters.
“Creating a distraction.”
Nicholas's expression changed.
He grabbed his phone.
“Marco, call the house.”
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Then Isabella called him.
Nicholas answered.
“Mother?”
A man's voice responded.
“Wrong Falcone.”
Vittorio.
Nicholas went pale.
“Where is she?”
“At home.”
A pause.
“Your home, technically.”
Nicholas looked at Gabriel.
Vittorio continued.
“You left the queen undefended while chasing a fire.”
Nicholas's jaw clenched.
“What do you want?”
“You know.”
“The ledger.”
“Yes.”
Nicholas looked at Sophie.
“When?”
“Midnight.”
“Where?”
Vittorio gave an address.
Gabriel heard it.
His expression changed.
“No.”
Sophie looked at him.
“What?”
Gabriel whispered, “That's where I supposedly died.”
Vittorio laughed through the phone.
“Bring Sophie too.”
Nicholas's face became terrifyingly calm.
“No.”
“Then Isabella dies.”
The line disconnected.
Sophie looked at Nicholas.
“You're not going alone.”
“Yes, I am.”
“We've discussed this.”
“This isn't a discussion.”
She stepped closer.
“Your mother helped mine escape.”
“Sophie.”
“She protected me before she ever met me.”
“No.”
“And Vittorio specifically asked for me.”
“Exactly.”
“Which means I'm part of whatever he wants.”
Nicholas looked at her for a long moment.
Then he said quietly, “That's exactly why you aren't coming.”
Sophie opened her mouth.
He leaned down.
And kissed her.
There was nothing hesitant about it.
For one stunned heartbeat, Sophie forgot the burning library behind them.
Then she kissed him back.
His hand cupped her face.
Her fingers caught his coat.
The world disappeared.
When he pulled away, his forehead rested against hers.
“If I come back,” he whispered, “you can yell at me for that.”
Sophie stared at him.
“If?”
Nicholas stepped away.
Her expression changed.
“Nicholas.”
He turned toward the waiting SUV.
She realized what he had just done.
May you like
The kiss had not been a beginning.
It had been goodbye.
