The Older Mafia Boss Had Given Up on Dating—Then His Curvy Friend Secretly Set Him Up With Her
Chapter 3
The next afternoon, Marcus entered Sophia’s office.
She looked up from her desk.
“No.”
“I haven’t said anything.”
“You have that expression.”
“What expression?”
“The one that says you’ve done something I won’t like.”
Sophia closed her laptop.
“I arranged dinner.”
Marcus stared at her.
“With whom?”
“A woman.”
He waited.
Sophia waited.
“That’s it?”
“Her name is Elena.”
“No.”
“You haven’t met her.”
“No.”
“You don’t know anything about her.”
“Exactly.”
Sophia folded her arms.
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“I don’t date.”
“You don’t date because you refuse to.”
“Correct.”
“You know what your problem is?”
“I assume you’re going to tell me.”
“You’ve mistaken loneliness for safety.”
Marcus’s jaw tightened.
“Don’t do this.”
“Why?”
“Because you know what happened last time.”
Sophia’s expression softened.
Marcus’s wife, Isabella, had died twelve years earlier after a long illness.
Marcus had loved her deeply.
After her death, he had buried himself in business.
He stopped dating.
Stopped traveling for pleasure.
Stopped celebrating holidays.
His house became a place where people came to work, never to stay.
Sophia knew that.
But she also knew grief had become an excuse.
“One dinner,” she said.
“No.”
“You owe me.”
“For what?”
“For saving your life in 1998.”
“You were sixteen.”
“So was I.”
“You couldn’t have saved my life.”
“I pushed you out of the way when that bottle flew through the window.”
Marcus stared.
“You still remember that?”
“I remember everything.”
He sighed.
“Where?”
“Riverside Bistro.”
“What time?”
“Seven.”
“I didn’t agree.”
“You will.”
He turned toward the door.
Sophia called after him.
“Marcus.”
He stopped.
“Don’t go because I asked.”
He looked back.
“Go because you might be wrong about yourself.”
He said nothing.
Then he left.
At seven o’clock, Marcus arrived at the restaurant.
Elena was already there.
She wore a dark green dress and simple earrings.
She looked nervous.
Marcus stopped when he saw her.
Not because she was glamorous.
Because she looked comfortable being herself.
That was rare in his world.
Elena stood.
“Mr. Bellini?”
“Marcus.”
She smiled.
“Elena.”
They shook hands.
For a moment, neither knew what to say.
Then Marcus pulled out her chair.
“Thank you for agreeing to this.”
Elena looked surprised.
“I almost didn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because Sophia told me enough to make me nervous.”
Marcus sat.
“She probably exaggerated.”
Elena smiled.
“I don’t think Sophia knows how to exaggerate.”
Marcus laughed.
It was the first genuine laugh he had produced in weeks.
Neither of them noticed Sophia watching from a table across the restaurant.
