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She began to step away, clearly wanting to extricate herself from the conversation. Yet, Francisco's grip on her arm stopped her in her tracks.
A surge of protectiveness coursed through me. Despite the complex web of emotions between Sophia and me, I couldn't stand seeing her uncomfortable and trapped in a situation she wanted to escape.
My jaw tightened, and I found myself striding purposefully toward them, determined to intervene before things escalated further.
As I approached, I caught Sophia's eye for a brief moment. Her expression held a mix of surprise and relief, as if she hadn't expected me to come to her aid but was also grateful that I had.
I met Francisco's gaze with a steely glare, my anger barely contained beneath the surface.
“Francisco," I said evenly, my voice carrying a hint of warning. "Is everything all right here?"
Francisco turned his attention toward me, his expression shifting from a casual smile to something more guarded.
"Matteo," he greeted with a nod. "Just having a pleasant conversation with one of your employees."
Sophia's discomfort was palpable, and I couldn't ignore the tension in the air. I looked at her and then back at Francisco, my tone firm.
"I think Sophia has had a long day. She must be tired."
Francisco's lips curved into a polite smile, but his eyes remained sharp.
"Of course, Matteo. I was sharing some insights about the company's philanthropic efforts with…Sophia, here."
My teeth gritted at how obviously he pronounced her name, but my expression remained blank otherwise.
I could tell there was more to his words than met the eye, but I didn't have the time or patience to engage in a power play with him.
Instead, I turned my attention to Sophia, offering her a reassuring smile.
"Why don't you take a break, Sophia? Enjoy the rest of the evening."
Sophia's relief was evident as she nodded, her gaze flickering briefly to Francisco before she excused herself.
As she walked away, I couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness and a burning desire to shield her from whatever game my uncle was playing.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I hissed, keeping my voice low yet laced with a sharp edge.
"Matteo, is this how you talk to family?" Francisco chuckled, casually swiping a glass of champagne from a passing waiter's tray.
His demeanor was irritatingly composed, as if he hadn't just stirred up a storm by cornering Sophia.
"You don't get to play the family card," I shot back, my jaw clenched tightly. "This event is for the company, not for whatever scheming you have in mind."
Francisco's chuckle grated on my nerves. "Ah, always the fiery one, Matteo, but mark my words, this company will soon belong to me."
I couldn't help but laugh, a dry, cynical sound. "Is that your fantasy, Uncle? Because in reality, you'll never get your hands on this company."
His smile faded, and his façade of composure cracked for a moment. "You're quite the optimist, aren't you?"
"Optimism and reality often align," I retorted, satisfaction filling me as I hit a nerve.
Francisco's tone turned colder as he spoke, his words edged with a venomous undertone.
"Enjoy your little company while it lasts, Matteo, and relay my farewell to the charming Miss Sophia."
With that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me angry and uneasy. I caught Antonio's eye, gesturing for him to follow and tail Francisco.
My uncle's sudden appearance was clearly part of a larger game I couldn’t ignore.
