Chapter Five: The Devil’s Library
The drive back was silent.
Alessandro held her hand the entire time.
His grip firm but not painful. His thumb tracing patterns on her skin that felt like promises.
Dante drove with practiced efficiency while Luca made quiet phone calls, arranging things in the background.
When they pulled up to the estate, Isabella was waiting on the steps.
She took one look at Sophia’s face and dismissed Alessandro with a wave.
“I’ll take her from here. You have that meeting with the Rosetti family.”
“I can reschedule—”
“You will not.”
Isabella’s tone brooked no argument.
“Business doesn’t stop because you’ve acquired a wife. Go. I’ll look after her.”
Alessandro looked torn.
His eyes searching Sophia’s.
“I’ll be back by dinner. If you need anything—”
“She’ll be fine.”
Isabella was already guiding Sophia up the steps.
“Go intimidate your business partners. Leave the girl to me.”
Sophia watched him leave with reluctance written all over his face.
Then Isabella led her inside.
Not to her room, but to a sunny sitting room she hadn’t seen before.
Tea was already waiting. Along with delicate pastries Sophia couldn’t imagine eating.
“Sit.”
Isabella commanded.
Sophia obeyed.
She poured tea with practiced grace. Added sugar without asking—another thing they just knew about her—and pushed the cup into Sophia’s hands.
“That was harder than you expected.”
“I didn’t think it would be easy.”
“But you didn’t think it would hurt.”
Isabella sipped her own tea.
“Leaving broken things behind always hurts. Even when we know they were poison.”
They sat in silence for a moment.
The room was beautiful. Cream walls. Artwork that probably cost more than Sophia’s aunt’s apartment. Windows overlooking the gardens where gardeners worked among the roses.
“My son is obsessed with you,” Isabella said finally.
“In case that wasn’t obvious.”
“It was obvious.”
“Good. Then you also know that obsession can be dangerous. For both of you.”
She set her cup down.
“The Caruso men love fiercely. They also destroy completely. You need to understand which side of that you’re on.”
“Which side was his father on? With you?”
Isabella’s smile was sad.
“Both. He loved me and destroyed me in equal measure. But I survived. And eventually I found my own power within this family.”
She leaned forward.
“That’s what you need to do, Sophia. Find your power. Don’t just be Alessandro’s wife. Be his equal. His partner. The only way to survive a Caruso is to match their intensity.”
“I don’t know how.”
“You will.”
She stood, smoothing her skirt.
“Now, we have work to do. You’re meeting with the lawyer this afternoon, and you need to understand exactly what you’re signing.”
The next few hours were a blur of legal terminology and contract clauses.
The lawyer, Mr. Benedetti, was an elderly man with sharp eyes and a sharper mind.
He explained the prenuptial agreement with clinical precision.
“You’ll have access to an account with fifty thousand dollars per month for personal expenses,” he said, sliding papers across his desk.
“The estate and all properties remain in the Caruso family trust.”
“In the event of divorce—”
“There won’t be a divorce.”
Alessandro’s voice came from the doorway.
Sophia hadn’t heard him return.
He moved into the room like he owned it—which he probably did—and stood behind her chair, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders.
“Continue.”
Mr. Benedetti cleared his throat.
“In the unlikely event of divorce, Mrs. Caruso would receive a settlement of five million dollars, plus the penthouse in the city. All other assets remain with the family.”
Five million dollars.
More money than she could comprehend.
For marrying a man she’d known for two days.
“However,” Mr. Benedetti continued, “should Mrs. Caruso commit adultery, all financial agreements are void.”
“I would never—”
“I know.”
Alessandro’s hands tightened on her shoulders.
“But it’s in the contract nonetheless. Standard for Caruso marriages.”
“And for you?”
Sophia twisted to look up at him.
“What happens if you commit adultery?”
His expression darkened.
“I wouldn’t. The thought of another woman makes me physically ill. You’re it for me, Sophia. There is no one else. There will never be anyone else.”
The intensity in his voice made her breath catch.
Mr. Benedetti coughed uncomfortably and shuffled papers.
“There’s also the matter of the wedding itself,” he said.
“Mr. Caruso has requested a ceremony in three weeks. Is that agreeable to you, Miss Chen?”
Three weeks.
Twenty-one days until she became Sophia Caruso.
Until this bizarre, overwhelming situation became permanent.
“I—”
Her voice failed.
Alessandro came around the chair, crouching in front of her so they were eye level.
“I know it’s fast. I know this is all happening too quickly. But I’ve waited four years, Sophia. I can’t wait much longer.”
His hands found hers, cradling them gently.
“Say yes. Let me give you everything. Let me protect you. Let me love you the way you deserve to be loved.”
“You don’t love me. You don’t even know me.”
“I know you bite your lip when you’re nervous. I know you cry in the shower so no one can hear. I know you read the endings of books first because you can’t handle suspense.”
He squeezed her hands.
“I know you’re terrified of thunderstorms because your parents died in a car accident during one. I know you, Sophia. Better than anyone ever has.”
Tears streamed down her face.
Everything he said was true.
Every intimate detail. Every secret she thought she kept hidden.
He’d been watching. Learning. Cataloging every piece of her.
“This is insane.”
“Yes.”
He kissed her knuckles.
His lips warm against her skin.
“But it’s also inevitable. So say yes. Stop fighting what we both know is going to happen anyway.”
She looked at Mr. Benedetti.
At his carefully neutral expression.
At the contract spread before her—pages of legal jargon that basically said she was agreeing to belong to Alessandro Caruso for the rest of her life.
Then she looked back at Alessandro.
At his dark eyes full of obsession and devotion and something that might actually be love.
Twisted though it was.
“Yes.”
She heard herself say it.
“I’ll marry you.”
The smile that spread across his face was pure triumph.
He stood, pulling her up with him.
Before she could process what was happening, his mouth was on hers.
The kiss was everything and nothing like she expected.
Gentle but demanding. Asking and taking simultaneously.
His hands framed her face like she was something precious. His lips moved against hers with practiced skill that spoke of experience she didn’t have.
She’d been kissed before.
Fumbling teenage attempts that meant nothing.
This was different.
This was a claiming.
When he pulled back, they were both breathing hard.
“Mine,” he whispered against her lips.
“Finally. Mine.”
Mr. Benedetti cleared his throat again.
Louder this time.
“Shall we proceed with the signatures?”
The pen felt heavy in her hand.
She stared at the dotted line.
At the space where her signature would make all of this real. Legal. Binding.
Alessandro’s hand covered hers.
Steadying it.
“Together,” he said softly.
She signed.
*Sophia Chen.*
For the last time.
In three weeks, that name would be gone.
Replaced by one that carried weight and danger and power.
“Congratulations, Mr. Caruso. Mrs. Caruso.”
Mr. Benedetti gathered the papers.
“I’ll file these immediately.”
Alessandro was already pulling her toward the door.
His excitement palpable.
“I want to show you something.”
He led her through halls she hadn’t explored yet.
Up another flight of stairs to the fourth floor.
He opened a door to reveal a room that took her breath away.
Wall-to-wall windows overlooking the entire estate.
Bookshelves lining every available space—filled with leather-bound volumes and new paperbacks alike.
A reading nook with cushions and blankets.
A desk with fresh flowers.
“This is your library,” he said, watching her reaction.
“I had it prepared for you. Every book you ever checked out of the public library is here. Plus hundreds more I thought you’d like.”
She walked in slowly.
Running her fingers along the spines.
*Pride and Prejudice. Jane Eyre. The entire Brontë collection.*
Modern romances with bent covers.
Everything she’d ever loved. Plus treasures she’d never dared to dream of owning.
“How did you—”
“I told you. I’ve been paying attention.”
He came up behind her.
His chest against her back. His arms wrapping around her waist.
“Everything you’ve ever wanted, Sophia. I’ll give it to you. Books, clothes, jewelry, travel. Anything. You just have to ask.”
“And all it costs is my freedom?”
“No.”
He turned her to face him.
His expression serious.
“All it costs is your trust. Trust that I’ll take care of you. Trust that I’ll never hurt you the way your aunt did. Trust that when I say I love you, I mean it with every fiber of my being.”
“You’re asking for a lot.”
“I know.”
His forehead rested against hers.
“But I’m offering everything in return.”
The sun was setting.
Painting the library in shades of gold and amber.
In three weeks, she’d be his wife.
In three weeks, this would be her life.
Libraries and luxuries. Obsession and devotion.
A man who’d destroy the world for her, but wouldn’t let her leave.
A gilded cage.
But standing there in Alessandro’s arms, surrounded by books and beauty, she realized something terrifying.
She was starting to like her cage.
