CHAPTER TWO : THOUGHTLESS SLAP 

Sophia POV

The entire ballroom went silent after the slap, and it wasn't a normal silence, it was the kind that made my chest tighten immediately because everybody suddenly looked terrified at the same time, so terrified that even the musicians stopped playing.

I stood there breathing hard while the wine glass slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor, and Matteo looked ready to pass out beside me, and honestly, the way everyone around us reacted was finally starting to make me realize I might have made a very stupid decision.

Luca De Luca turned his face back toward me slowly, and the red mark from the slap was still visible against his skin, but his expression never changed, and that somehow felt worse than shouting, worse than anger, because nobody moved and nobody spoke, and one of the politicians standing nearby quietly stepped backward like he wanted to leave before violence started.

I swallowed hard but forced myself not to look away from Luca, even though my heartbeat was becoming impossible to ignore.

Then Vincent stepped forward quickly. "Boss," he said calmly, almost like a warning. "People are watching."

So that was Vincent Moretti, and I recognized him immediately too, Luca De Luca's right hand man, the one the media called the ghost behind the De Luca empire because nobody ever knew what he was thinking, and he looked calmer than everyone else in the room, but his eyes moved carefully between Luca and me like he was already trying to control the situation before it got worse.

Luca kept staring at me for another few seconds before adjusting the sleeve of his suit slowly, like getting slapped in public happened every day, and that somehow annoyed me all over again.

"You ruined my dress first," I said, before Matteo grabbed my arm so hard I nearly lost my balance.

"Are you insane?" he whispered harshly under his breath. "Sophia, we need to leave right now."

Honestly, he was probably right, because the atmosphere inside the ballroom had turned dangerous almost instantly, phones were already coming out, people were whispering loudly now, some looked shocked and others looked entertained, but most of them looked scared, very scared, and all because I had slapped one man.

Matteo started dragging me toward the exit before I could embarrass us further, but somebody stepped in front of me and forced me to stop, an older man, tall, with sharp eyes and an expensive black suit, and the second his hand touched my arm to steady me, something about his expression changed immediately, and he froze, and his eyes stayed locked on my face for too long, especially on my eyes, long enough to make me uncomfortable instantly.

"I'm sorry," I said awkwardly while trying to move around him, but he kept staring, like he'd seen a ghost.

Then somebody behind us whispered, "That's Adrian Rossi's daughter," and the older man's expression darkened immediately, and my stomach tightened, because how did these people already know who I was?

The man finally let go of my arm slowly, looking toward Vincent without taking his eyes off me completely.

"Find out everything about her," he said quietly.

Vincent nodded once. "Of course, sir."

Something about the exchange made me uncomfortable immediately, and Matteo pulled me away before I could think too deeply about it.

"We're leaving," he muttered quickly, and nobody tried to stop us, which somehow felt worse.

As we walked through the ballroom I could feel people staring at me from every direction, whispers following us the whole way.

"That's her."

"She slapped him."

"Adrian Rossi's daughter?"

"She's dead."

That last one made my chest tighten badly.

Outside the Palazzo Bellucci Hotel, rain poured heavily across the streets while Matteo practically shoved me into the waiting taxi.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he snapped the second the car pulled away. "Do you know who that was?"

"He spilled wine on me."

"That's your defense?"

"He acted like money could fix it."

Matteo stared at me like I had completely lost my mind. "Sophia, that wasn't some random rich businessman. That was Luca De Luca."

"I know who he is."

"No, I don't think you do."

I rolled my eyes even though anxiety was slowly creeping into my chest now that the adrenaline was fading. "You're overreacting."

"Am I?" Matteo laughed once, without humor. "You publicly humiliated the most feared man in Sicily and you think I'm overreacting?"

I looked out the window quietly after that, because deep down, part of me knew he was right, and the entire city had practically frozen after that slap, and that couldn't be normal.

When we finally reached Rosa's house almost forty minutes later, the first thing I noticed was the television already playing footage from the gala, and my stomach dropped instantly, because a blurry video of me slapping Luca was already replaying across the screen while reporters spoke rapidly in Italian underneath it, and the news had somehow spread that fast.

Rosa stood near the television looking completely horrified, and the second she saw me she rushed forward.

"What did you do?"

I blinked. "How do you already know?"

"The entire city knows!" she snapped. "People are already talking about it online."

Matteo pointed at me dramatically. "I told her not to do it."

"You absolutely did not."

Rosa grabbed my face suddenly, like she needed to make sure I was real. "Sophia, listen to me carefully. You need to leave Palermo tonight."

"Because of one slap?"

"You don't understand these people."

"There's that sentence again."

"This isn't funny!" Rosa shouted. "The De Lucas don't forgive humiliation, especially not publicly."

The fear in her voice finally made my stomach twist properly for the first time that night, and before I could answer her, bright headlights suddenly swept across the front windows of the house, and everybody froze at once.

Matteo moved slowly toward the curtain and looked outside, and his face lost all color instantly.

There were black cars parked outside the house, at least four of them, and Rosa covered her mouth with a shaking hand.

"Oh God," she whispered. "They found us."