CHAPTER 4 -THE THINGS MEN HIDE

The restaurant suddenly felt smaller.

Not physically.

Something else.

Something Sofia could not explain even to herself.

Across the room, Alessandro Moretti stood beside his wife with effortless control, one hand resting lightly against Isabella’s back as the hostess guided them toward a private table near the windows.

Elegant.

Untouchable.

Normal.

That was the worst part.

Nothing about him revealed the violence beneath his calmness. Nothing revealed the dangerous stillness she remembered from the nightclub. He moved through expensive rooms like a man entirely certain of himself and the world around him.

And yet Sofia felt it again.

That awareness.

The unbearable feeling of being noticed without a single word spoken.

“You stopped listening,” Valentina said casually.

Sofia blinked softly and looked back at her. “What?”

“I said your husband looked ready to murder the waiter last week because the wine arrived late.”

Sofia forced a faint smile. “That sounds like Dante.”

Valentina laughed under her breath. “No. That sounds like fragile masculinity with anger issues.”

Sofia shook her head slightly, but her attention betrayed her again.

Across the restaurant, Isabella was speaking quietly while Alessandro listened with calm patience. From the outside, they looked perfect together. Wealth. Power. Beauty.

But Sofia noticed small things.

The distance between them.

The restraint.

The way Isabella smiled was more than Alessandro did.

The way his eyes drifted occasionally, not out of boredom but habit, as though part of him was always elsewhere.

Then suddenly—

His gaze found hers again.

Sofia’s breath caught slightly.

Only slightly.

No one else would notice.

But Alessandro noticed.

He noticed everything about her.

The stillness in her shoulders.

The way her fingers tightened subtly around the stem of her glass.

The softness that entered her expression before she buried it again.

God.

He should stop looking at her.

He knew that.

She was Dante Russo’s wife.

Not just unavailable.

Forbidden.

A line that should not even exist inside his mind.

And yet every time he saw her, something inside him reacted before reason had the chance to interfere.

Not a simple attraction.

That would have been manageable.

This felt darker.

Possessive in ways he hated admitting even to himself.

He wanted her attention too much.

Wanted her eyes searching for him in rooms where they were supposed to survive separately.

Wanted to know what she sounded like when she laughed genuinely politely.

Wanted to see what remained of her when nobody else was controlling the air around her.

It was insanity.

And Alessandro Moretti did not lose control.

“Alessandro.”

Isabella’s voice pulled him back instantly.

He looked at her.

Her expression remained soft but observant.

“You disappeared for a second.”

“Did I?”

A faint smile touched her lips. “You do that sometimes.”

Not an accusation.

Just truth.

The guilt arrived unexpectedly.

Sharp enough to irritate him.

Because Isabella had done nothing wrong.

She had been loyal. Elegant. Patient through years of emotional distance he never learned how to fix. She deserved more than a husband mentally distracted by another man’s wife across a crowded restaurant.

And still—

His attention drifted again.

Toward Sofia.

It happened instinctively now.

Dangerously.

As if some invisible part of him had already decided she belonged inside his thoughts.

Isabella followed his brief silence carefully before looking down at her wine. “You seem tired lately.”

“I’m fine.”

“You always say that.”

He reached for his glass slowly. “Because it’s usually true.”

Usually.

But not now.

Now he felt restless in his own skin.

Like desire had become something living beneath it.

Across the restaurant, Sofia forced herself to focus on Valentina’s voice.

But it was becoming difficult.

Because awareness moved both ways now.

Every time she looked up, Alessandro’s attention eventually found her again. Never openly enough for suspicion. Never long enough to be noticed by anyone else.

But long enough for damage.

Long enough for the heat to settle low beneath her ribs before she forced it away.

“You should come out more often,” Valentina was saying. “You spend too much time inside that mansion.”

Sofia exhaled softly. “You say that like I have freedom.”

Valentina tilted her head slightly. “You have more than you think.”

No.

She didn’t.

Women like Sofia were decorative pieces inside powerful families. Beautiful enough to display. Controlled enough to keep.

And Dante controlled everything.

Her schedule.

Her appearances.

Her silence.

Sometimes even the way she breathed around other men.

The thought exhausted her suddenly.

Without thinking, her eyes lifted again.

Alessandro was already looking at her.

This time neither of them looked away immediately.

Only a few seconds.

But seconds stretched strangely between certain people.

Sofia felt warmth spread through her chest so quickly it frightened her.

Not because of what it was.

Because of how natural it felt.

Then Isabella touched Alessandro’s arm gently.

The moment broke instantly.

Reality returned.

Sofia looked down at her glass.

Across the room, Alessandro’s jaw tightened almost invisibly.

The interruption should not have irritated him.

But it did.

Because for one dangerous moment, everything around him had disappeared except Sofia Russo looking back at him like she felt it too.

And God help him—

He wanted more of that.

Far more than he should.

“You know,” Valentina said lightly, “I think your husband is getting worse.”

Sofia focused on her immediately, grateful for the distraction. “What do you mean?”

“He watches everyone around you too closely lately.”

Sofia remained quiet.

Because that was true.

Dante’s possessiveness had sharpened over the past few months into something heavier. More suspicious. More controlling.

Last night he nagged about why she took a long dress

The night before that, he became irritated because a waiter smiled at her for too long.

Tiny things.

But tiny things became dangerous with men like Dante.

Valentina leaned back slightly. “You need air before that marriage suffocates you completely.”

Sofia gave a faint tired smile. “And where exactly would I go?”

Valentina had no answer for that.

Neither did Sofia.

Because there wasn’t one.

Across the restaurant, Alessandro stood as someone approached their table for greetings. Politicians. Investors. Men pretending friendships while calculating future betrayals.

He responded automatically.

Calm.

Controlled.

He could still feel Sofia’s eyes from moments ago.

Still remember the softness in them before she looked away.

He wanted to cross the restaurant.

Wanted to hear her voice again.

Wanted impossible things.

And the more he denied it, the worse it became.

Possession.

That was the ugly truth of it.

Not love.

Not yet.

Something more dangerous.

The need to have what he could not touch.

The need to keep looking even when every instinct warned him to stop.

Because Alessandro understood exactly what this could become.

War.

Not between families.

Inside himself.

And for the first time in years—

He wasn’t certain he would win.