His Tesoro: An Arranged Marriage Age Gap Mafia Romance (Empire of Royals Book 1)
His Tesoro: Chapter 7

The gentle ding of the elevator sounded before the doors slid open. I gestured for Sofiya to get on first, followed by Romeo and me. The doors closed, leaving Angelo waiting for the next one with Sofiya’s two suitcases and the large box she’d brought. I’d managed to stay away from her the entire plane ride, but now I was trapped in this tiny space. Unable to escape her.

The elevator ascended from the underground garage to the twenty-second floor, where my penthouse apartment waited. I’d bought this historic building on the west side of Central Park after becoming Don. Sienna and I couldn’t stand being in the home we’d grown up in, the walls groaning with memories of our parents, the floors stained with their blood.

The lower floors of the building included housing for Sienna and my inner circle, along with offices for my legitimate and illegitimate businesses. The building surrounded a large courtyard and garden. Sienna ate lunch out there when the weather was nice. It was one of the few spots outside she could be without a convoy of guards. But only I had access to the rooftop. Some nights, I would sit out there alone with a drink, the faint sounds of the city reaching me from the street below. In those moments, I felt like the king of this city.

The elevator door opened, revealing the large entryway and front door. Sofiya looked exhausted as we exited the elevator.

“There’s fingerprint access to get in,” I told her. “Romeo, Angelo, Enzo, my sister, and I are the only ones with access.”

She nodded as she chewed on her lower lip. I wanted to snap at her to cut it out. What did she have to look so nervous about? I was the one whose home was about to be invaded.

By the time I added her fingerprint to the lock, begrudgingly giving her access to my private space, the elevator doors had opened again to reveal Angelo and the suitcases. He smiled at Sofiya. “I’m the head of your security team and will be your personal bodyguard. I’m sure the Boss will tell you how to get in touch with me, but I’ll be stationed outside the apartment during the day if you need anything, and I’ll drive you if you need to go anywhere.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“It was nice meeting you, Sofiya,” Romeo said. “I’ll say goodnight now. Let you two get acquainted.” He cocked an eyebrow at me before getting back on the elevator with a chuckle. He lived a couple of floors below, and I had the urge to demand he stay. What was I supposed to do alone with this girl?

Angelo placed Sofiya’s two suitcases inside the apartment before giving me a nod and heading back out to the entryway. I gestured for Sofiya to enter and followed after her, the door shutting with a thud behind us.

The apartment was plenty big, but it had never felt as small as it did in this moment. Sofiya might be a tiny slip of a girl, but her presence filled the space. “It’s really pretty,” she said, glancing up at me.

I just grunted. Sienna had thrown herself into designing all the apartments in the building. I’d stayed out of it besides vetoing a few of her wilder ideas.

I picked up Sofiya’s suitcases, wondering where the rest of her things were. I had expected her possessions to take up several cars, but maybe her parents were planning to send everything later.

I jerked my chin to the left side of the apartment, where a hallway branched off from the living room. “Your bedroom is that way.” The furthest one from my bedroom.

Sofiya maneuvered her wheelchair through the living room and followed me down the hall. I opened the guest room door and placed her suitcases by the bed. No one had ever stayed in this room before—it wasn’t like I had guests—but I’d asked Gianna to make sure it was ready for my new wife.

Sofiya took in the room, looking like she was about to say something.

“I’ll get the rest,” I grunted, leaving before she could.

Something rattled in the cardboard box as I carried it through the apartment, and I was tempted to look inside. But I was determined to show as little interest as possible in my new wife, so I kept my mouth shut and placed it by the foot of the bed.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Gianna Pesci is my housekeeper and cook. She and her daughter come a couple times a week to take care of things, but they’re gone for the next month for a wedding.” Gianna’s son was getting married, so she was taking rare time off. I always told her she should take more, but she insisted I couldn’t survive without her, which was probably true. I had to admit I was relieved she wasn’t here now, though. She was an opinionated woman and completely unafraid of insulting me. I didn’t need her commentary to complicate this situation.

“Do you have any other staff?” Sofiya asked.

“Not who come into the apartment.”

She nodded, looking so fucking small in her wheelchair.

“I have a meeting to get to,” I said gruffly.

“Oh.” She bit her lush lip again. “You’re leaving?”

I clenched my jaw at the sadness in her expression. Why couldn’t she hide what she was feeling? “I told you this wasn’t going to be a real marriage,” I snapped.

She blinked slowly before giving a small nod. “Of course. Sorry.”

A thousand irritated retorts were on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them, turned on my heel, and headed out of the apartment. There was a strange, unsettled feeling in my chest as I walked past Angelo and got back on the elevator. I rubbed it absentmindedly as the elevator doors opened to the lower floor that housed my office.