His Tesoro: An Arranged Marriage Age Gap Mafia Romance (Empire of Royals Book 1)
His Tesoro: Chapter 14

I was sore and tired as I puttered around the kitchen. I used my rollator to keep balance, but it was hard to put any weight on my arms with how much they were hurting after yesterday’s workout. I hoped the exercises would pay off in the long run, because right now, the pain was just making me irritable. I’d taken my pain meds, but I knew the pain would probably last all day… all week if I was unlucky.

Nothing I tried to alleviate my symptoms ever seemed to help. Mila had gone on a “wellness” kick a while back, convinced she could fix me if we only did the right things. We drank green coffee bean extract and meditated and did yoga. The last time I tried yoga, my knee had subluxed and I’d fallen over on top of Mila. We’d laughed so hard I’d actually peed myself, which had just made us laugh harder.

Our enforced isolation in the Pakhan’s mansion the past few years had been agonizing, but there were also things about it I missed. It had been Mila and me against the world for so long, and now I was on my own.

I ate a banana from the fruit bowl while trying to figure out what to do with my day. The kitchen was fully stocked. I grinned as I decided to do some baking and cooking. Only to pass the time, of course. Not to secretly impress my husband with the one skill I had. I would just need to choose recipes that didn’t require much upper body strength.

A knock at the door pulled my head from the pantry. I chewed my lip. Was I supposed to answer? I was still on edge in this beautiful, huge apartment, just waiting to do something wrong and get yelled at.

The person at the door knocked again. I grabbed my rollator and made my way slowly to the entrance. I peered through the peephole to see my bodyguard standing there.

“Good morning, Mrs. Rossi,” Angelo said, a wide smile on his face as I opened the door.

“Good morning. And please just call me Sofiya.”

“I’m not sure the Boss would like that.”

I cocked my head. “But you’re my bodyguard, right? So I don’t know… don’t I get a say?”

Angelo chuckled. His laugh was warm and deep and instantly put me at ease. “The Boss has his work cut out with you, doesn’t he?” He winked at me. “Alright, Sofiya. As you wish.” He gave a little bow with a flourish, making me snort.

“Do you want to come in?”

“No, thank you, bella. I just needed to give you this.” He held out a brand new, top of the line cell phone.

My eyes widened. “Really? For me?”

“Of course. The numbers you need are already programmed in. There’s me and Enzo—he has the night shift guarding the apartment. Also Romeo, the Boss’s second-in-command, and Domenico, his enforcer. If you’re ever in an emergency and can’t get in touch with me or the Boss, you can call any of them.”

The phone felt smooth and cool in my hands. “Am I allowed to call other people? Like my sister?”

“Of course.”

“And… can I go on the internet and stuff?” Mila and I’d had a phone the past couple of months—an old model that Nikolai had smuggled in. I’d left it with Mila and had hoped I’d replace a way to contact her, but I never expected to just be given a phone.

His brow furrowed. “You’re not a prisoner here, Sofiya.” His voice was low, and he bent down so our eyes were level. “You’re married to the Don. That gives you power, status. Do you understand?” He took in my bewildered expression and sighed. “I see you don’t, yet, but you will. You’ll get used to your position and I’m confident you’ll play your role beautifully.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. It was one of the nicer things anyone had said to me, not that there was much competition. Although it was another cold reminder that I was just here to play a role.

“Do you need anything else?” Angelo asked.

I shook my head. “No, this is great, thank you. I’m going to do some baking.”

His eyes were bright. “Ahh, tiramisu?”

A smile tugged at my lips. “I haven’t decided yet.” It was exciting to have free rein over the kitchen, a phone to look up recipes, and people who wanted to taste what I made.

“Well, I look forward to replaceing out,” he said with a wink.

I returned to the kitchen and took a few minutes to set up my phone. Maybe I could buy a case for it. I’d seen some cute ones online.

Once it was all set up, I dialed Mila’s number. We kept the phone on silent to prevent anyone replaceing it and punishing us, so I squeezed my eyes shut, praying she would answer.

“Hello?” Mila sounded slightly out of breath. Hearing her voice made tears spring to my eyes.

“Mila,” I choked out.

“Oh my God, Sofiya! I’ve been waiting and hoping you would call. Are you okay? I miss you so much.”

“I miss you, too,” I said with a sniff. I pulled a paper towel from under the sink and wiped my tears.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice was fierce and I could picture her expression, how that little line between her eyebrows appeared when she was stressed.

“I’m just happy to hear your voice. I’m totally fine, promise. I have a new phone, so we can talk whenever we want.”

“Fuck, I’ve been driving Nikolai crazy worrying about you. How’s your husband? Is he treating you okay? Did you, you know… do it?”

My cheeks heated. “Matteo is… I don’t know, confusing?” I said, sidestepping her question. “Not like I have much experience with men, but he’s really hard to read. I don’t think he likes me very much.” I pulled out a bag of chocolate chips from the pantry. All my father’s staff raved about my chocolate chip cookies, so it felt like a safe thing to start with. And there was a stand mixer in the kitchen, which meant I wouldn’t strain my wrist mixing the dough.

There was a beat of silence before Mila responded. “What makes you say that? Has he hurt you?”

“No, not at all. But he said he just wants us to live as roommates. He’s gone most of the time and we have separate rooms.” I wasn’t about to tell her about my idiotic misunderstanding—how I’d cowered in my bedroom for a full day out of fear of punishment. It was pathetic.

I also wasn’t about to share how Matteo’s hands had lingered on my skin in the gym… or our middle-of-the-night roof conversation.

I could practically hear Mila’s chaotic thoughts. “Do you want to just be roommates?”

I pulled eggs and butter from the fridge. “I don’t really have a choice. Maybe this isn’t the life I would have chosen, but it’s not bad. Matteo has been… nice.” I cringed, pressing my face into my hands.

“Nice? The head of the Mafia is nice?”

“Okay, that’s a bad word to describe him. But he hasn’t said anything cruel.” I glanced at the kitchen island, remembering how Matteo had been worried I would topple over if he let go of me as I sat on the countertop. For a second, I’d even imagined some sort of spark between us.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Mila asked, suspicious.

“Nothing,” I said too quickly. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Uh huh… So, what are you doing now?”

I sighed with relief that she wasn’t pushing it. “I thought I would make some cookies. And then maybe something Italian for dinner.”

“Dinner and dessert. It sounds like you’re trying to impress your husband.”

I stayed silent as my cheeks burned.

“Sofiya!” Mila gasped. “You are. I knew it.” The excitement was palpable in her voice and reminded me she was only nineteen. “I bet he’s more than nice to you. He’s too freaking hot to be your roommate.”

I huffed. “He’s not interested in me that way.”

“You can’t possibly think that I’d believe that.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you. He’s been very clear.” Except for when he wasn’t. Like when he carried me, or looked angry hearing how my father had treated me, or sat with me on the roof.

Before Mila could say anything else and add to the confusion I was already feeling, I changed the subject. “Have you heard from Dimi?”

Mila sighed, seeing straight through my deflection, but she answered anyway. “No.”

“Do you think he’s okay?”

“He knows how to take care of himself,” she said, but our shared anxiety was heavy on the phone. Dimi was the only member of our family who actually loved Mila and me, and I missed him.

“Do you think he’s still abroad?” I asked.

“I assume so. Maybe I could ask the Pakhan⁠—”

“No,” I cut in. “Don’t do that. He won’t tell you anyway.” Panic cut through me so viscerally I had to sit down on my rollator. I breathed through my dizziness. Our father had never hit Mila, and she didn’t know he’d ever hit me. But now that I was out of the house, I was terrified he would turn his anger on her.

“Okay,” Mila huffed. “I won’t.”

“Just… just be sure to stay out of his way, okay? And if Dimi calls, will you give him my new number and tell him to call me?”

“Of course.”

Mila updated me on her life. Our father was allowing her to leave the house more often now that I wasn’t there. Guilt filled me that she had been trapped in that house because of me, because of the shame my body caused my family in public.

“How’s your pain been?” she asked.

“It’s fine,” I lied. I measured out the flour and baking soda.

“Sofiya.” Mila’s voice was scolding.

“Okay, it’s been kind of bad. But my knees are stronger than on my wedding day. I’m using my rollator around the apartment.”

“You need to get the Don to take you to the doctor. I’m sure there’s better medication or something that will help you. I don’t trust any of the Pakhan’s doctors.”

“Don’t worry about me, Mila. I’m the oldest. It’s my responsibility to protect you.”

Mila made an irritated sound in the back of her throat. “I’ll always worry about you because I love you, Sofiya. I wish… I wish you could let other people love you. You’re so convinced you have to do everything for everyone, but the people who really love you don’t need you to do or be anything for us.”

Tears pricked at my eyes. “I’m not sure that’s a long list of people.”

“I would replace that annoying if I didn’t know you actually believed it. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. You’re kind, talented, and you have this energy that draws everyone into your orbit. I think that’s one of the reasons he hid you away. You outshine us all.”

I let out a laugh. “What are you talking about? Our dear father has only ever felt contempt towards me.”

“Maybe,” Mila conceded. “But I think there’s more to his hatred.”

I rested my cheek on the cool marble counter as the two of us sat in silence.

“I miss you,” I finally said.

“Miss you, too.” Mila’s voice was tight, like she was crying, and it made a tear streak down my cheek. My sister hardly ever cried. She used to say I had enough tears for both of us.

“You sound lighter,” she whispered.

I wiped away my tears. “I feel lighter. There’s a whole world outside of the east wing.”

“You can start crossing things off the list.”

I grinned. “Already crossed off the first thing. We flew back to New York on a private jet. It was so cool.”

We continued talking and dreaming about our list until Mila said she had to go. The Pakhan was making her attend some lunch with the Bratva wives. I was afraid he was already thinking of marrying her off. Nothing made me feel as helpless as not being able to protect Mila from every bad thing.

“You better text and call me all the time, Sofiya. I want updates.”

“I promise. You too, okay?”

“Yeah.” I heard a knock on the door at her end. “Shit, Nikolai is here and I haven’t gotten dressed yet. I’ll have to send you a picture of the dress mom is making me wear. It’s hideous.”

Our mother had the worst fashion sense of anyone I’d ever met. We couldn’t figure out if her outlandish outfits were some sort of statement, a small rebellion against the Pakhan, or if she legitimately thought they looked good.

“Love you. Stay safe,” I said.

“Love you, too.”

The quiet in the kitchen weighed on me after hanging up. I found a music app and chose a random pop playlist. Upbeat notes started playing through the speaker. Mila and I had always been careful not to make a lot of noise. It was safer to be quiet and fly under the radar. Even though the song was playing softly, it still sent a thrill of fear and excitement through me to be making noise, taking up space.

The oven timer went off, and I pulled out the first batch of cookies and sprinkled sea salt on top of them. I put the next batch in and then pulled up a browser on my phone to search for Italian recipes. I was determined to make dinner a success.