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“Really? Because it seemed like you two had history.”
It’s more of a question more than anything. I’m grasping at straws, looking for an answer. When Sophia curses softly under her breath I know I’m right.
“We uhm, dated briefly when I was younger. It doesn’t mean anything though,” she hurriedly says. “I promise.”
It’s not an easy pill to swallow but I manage to choke it down. I don’t like thinking about any other men touching her, even in her past. But that would be ridiculous. Of course she’s been with other people before.
“It’s alright. Like you said, he’s nothing to you.”
She smiles. “Good. Now, did you get a haircut?” she questions, her hand still running through my hair. “The sides are shorter.”
I’m surprised she noticed. “Yeah. I had it trimmed for Rosa’s exhibition. Like it?”
She nods, “Next time I want to be the one to do it?”
I smile, pulling her closer by the waist. “What? Cut my hair?”
“Yeah, I’ve always wanted to try it.”
I ponder it for a moment, “I’m not sure it would be a good idea to let you anywhere near my head with anything sharp, blondie.”
Her eyes narrow and I chuckle. “Okay. I’ll let you cut my hair. Anytime you want.”
“Good,” she says, surging upward to press a kiss to my lips.
“I can sleep over, right?” I ask her and she nods.
“Sure.”
I’m still holding her when my phone starts to ring. Almost immediately hers rings as well. We stare at each other for a moment before standing to pick them up. It’s Michael. Sophia pulls on a nightgown before heading out of the room to answer her call.
“What’s happened?” I question, upon answering mine.
“Dimitri Antonov. He walked into one of our casinos. Made a scene, shot someone in the leg,” he informs me.
“What?!” I ask, icy rage sliding through me. “Where the hell is he now?”
“He took one of the women in the casino hostage, threatened to kill her if we didn’t let him leave.”
“Motherfucker.”
“Yeah, Roman wants you here, right now. Where the hell are you anyway?”
“I’ll be there soon,” I say without replying his question.
When I turn around, Sophia’s standing there, her expression apprehensive.
“This wasn’t us,” she says immediately. “Dimitri acted on his own.”
I start pulling on my clothes. “I hate your fucking boyfriend.”
Her eyes narrow. “Ex-boyfriend.”
“Whatever,” I mutter, pulling on my shirt. “I have to go.”
“Wait, Tony, the woman he took,” she hesitates. “I’ll make sure he returns her, safely.”
I’m not sure what to say to that, so I don’t say anything. After offering her a short nod, I walk out away. heading out of the house and towards my car. I start it and I’m driving off when I notice a black car approaching. It passes by my side and I get a good look at the driver.
