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“Get the fuck out of my house,” Dante growls, pointing his finger toward the stairs.
I gladly take the offered exit with a little extra pep in my step.
“Sophie, wait,” Dante says. “I was talking to him, not you. Never you.”
Her grip on my jacket drops. I glance over my shoulder to see her turn to hug her father.
“Are you sure you want to go with him?” he asks her, gripping both of her shoulders while glaring in my direction.
“Yes,” she says. I’ve never loved that one word as much as I do now. Well, maybe the night Sophie used it to agree to marry me.
When she pulls away from Dante’s grip, she also hugs Vanessa.
“You are trouble,” Dante’s wife says to me with a grin. “Be good to her.”
“I will,” I promise her and Dante both before taking Sophie’s hand to lead her down the stairs.
As we make our way to the first floor, I hear Vanessa say to Dante, “Aren’t you glad I didn’t let you go in to check on them?”
“I’ll be eternally grateful that you stopped me,” it sounds like he murmurs in response.
“I know you don’t like it, but they’re married. She’s not your baby girl anymore.”
“Now she’s his princess.”
“And he’s her Da– ”
“Don’t you dare fucking say it!” Dante growls, making Vanessa giggle.
While we wait for the elevator, I can’t help but turn to Sophie and ask, “You were talking to me, weren’t you?”
Groaning, she slaps her palm to her forehead and says, “I really wish I hadn’t said that.”
“Maybe there will be less confusion when he becomes a grandpa.”
“Lochlan!”
“I didn’t mean because of you, or us necessarily. You have two older sisters, and one is definitely fucking someone.”
“You mean…Cass?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Really? Who?”
“No idea. You could ask her.”
“I could, but she would never tell me. We don’t talk like that,” she explains. “Although she was sort of nice today. She helped me take the pregnancy test.”
“That was nice of her, although she probably had ulterior motives,” I reply, unable to help my cynicism when it comes to the redhead.
“I don’t know if I can keep calling you that name,” Sophie whispers, as if the guards surrounding us, Salvato’s and my own, won’t hear us.
“What name?” I ask with a smirk, and she slaps my shoulder. “Fine.” As much as I hate it, I relent. “You don’t have to use that name again unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Unless one day you change your mind, and we have a baby together.”
