"What does it entail?" Sofia asked directly.
Marco's expression grew serious. "The Castellano world has its own rules, Ms. Ricci. Its own obligations and dangers. Dante is attempting to change some of those rules, but not all at once, and not without resistance, both within our family and from rivals like the Valentis."
"You're warning me," Sofia realized.
"I'm preparing you," Marco corrected. "Victor Valenti's interest in you wasn't coincidental, nor was it final. Terminal Island represents a significant defeat for him. He will look for other pressure points."
The implications were clear. Her involvement with Dante, particularly her assistance with Terminal Island, had elevated her from convenient girlfriend to strategic target.
"I can take care of myself," Sofia said, though the assurance sounded hollow even to her own ears.
"I'm sure you can," Marco replied, not unkindly. "But understanding the landscape improves your chances considerably." He paused, studying her with an intensity that reminded her of Dante. "This isn't just about business rivalries or property developments. The Valentis operate differently than we do, with less restraint, particularly when they feel challenged."
Sofia held his gaze. "Are you suggesting they might come after me directly?"
"I'm suggesting that your value to them has changed," Marco answered carefully. "Before, you were merely Dante's... companion. Now you've demonstrated both loyalty and capability. That makes you either an asset to be acquired or an obstacle to be removed."
A chill ran through her despite the room's warmth. "I won't be intimidated."
Marco's expression softened unexpectedly. "My wife said something similar when we first met. She understood the risks of our world but refused to be defined by them." He rose as they heard footsteps approaching. "One last thing, Sofia. My son doesn't trust easily, nor does he connect deeply with many people. The fact that he's done both with you suggests something... rare."
The door opened before she could respond. Dante returned, his expression shifting subtly as he looked between them.
"Environmental issues resolved?" Marco asked.
"For now," Dante replied, his gaze still assessing the situation.
"Good." Marco nodded to Sofia. "Thank you for coming tonight, Ms. Ricci. I trust our conversation has been illuminating."
"Very," Sofia agreed, rising to her feet.
As they prepared to leave, Marco stopped his son with a hand on his arm. "Terminal Island was well handled," he said quietly. "Your mother would have been proud."
Something passed between father and son, an acknowledgment, perhaps even a concession. Dante nodded once, accepting the rare praise without comment.
The drive back to the city began in silence, both of them processing the evening's revelations. Manhattan's skyline appeared in the distance, a constellation of lights against the night sky.
"Your father is... not what I expected," Sofia finally said.
"How so?" Dante asked, his attention still on the road.
"He sees more than he reveals. Including what's happening between us."
Dante's hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel. "And what is happening between us, Sofia?"
The question hung in the air, demanding an honesty they had both been avoiding for weeks.
"Something beyond our arrangement," she said softly. "Something neither of us planned for."
Dante was quiet for a long moment. "When I found you in that parking garage with Vega," he finally said, "I realized something had changed. My response wasn't calculated. It was... instinctive."
The admission, coming from a man who prided himself on control and strategy, carried significant weight.
"I felt the same when I decided to help with Terminal Island," Sofia confessed. "It wasn't about our agreement anymore. It was about helping you build something I believed in."
Dante pulled the car over at a scenic overlook above the highway, the city spread before them in a tapestry of lights. He turned in his seat to face her fully.
"Sofia," he began, then paused, seeming to search for the right words. "My father was right about one thing. I don't connect easily with people. Trust doesn't come naturally in my world."
"I know," she said.
"But with you..." His voice softened. "With you, I find myself wanting to share things I've kept guarded. My mother's vision. Terminal Island. The future I'm trying to build."
Sofia's heart quickened. "Why?"
"Because you see me," he said simply. "Not just the Castellano heir or the Harvard businessman or the rumors that follow my name. You see all of it, and you're still here."
The raw honesty in his voice moved her more than any calculated charm could have. Sofia reached across the console, taking his hand in hers—not for show, not for any audience, but because she wanted to.
"I'm still here," she confirmed softly.
Dante's fingers intertwined with hers, warm and secure. For a moment, they simply sat there, the city lights reflecting off the windshield, the quiet hum of the engine the only sound.
"This complicates everything," Sofia finally said.
"Yes," Dante agreed. "But perhaps some complications are worth navigating."
He raised their joined hands, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles—a gesture so unexpectedly tender that Sofia felt something shift inside her, a final resistance giving way.
As they drove back toward the city, their hands remained linked between them. Their carefully negotiated arrangement had evolved into something neither had anticipated—something genuine, complex, and increasingly precious.
Something worth the risk.