Chapter 3 CHAPTER
Standing on the doorstep, Sofia froze her fingers around the bag's strap. The evening air carried the sharp, contemptuous voice of Signor Ricci. "You once more." How many times must I advise you to avoid my son?
Sofia kept her voice even while her stomach turned over. "I just want to chat to him."
He snubbed. "Speak? You believe someone like you could live anywhere near Alessandro?"
The heat in her chest burned more brilliantly. This time she was not going to let him push her around. "With all due respect, Signor Ricci, your son makes his own decisions."
His face took on dark tones. "You dare answer back to me?"
She laughed bitterly and passed through. "You offend me; am I supposed to be standing here like a chastised child?"
"You unappreciative—"
"No, no." She stepped back and raised a hand. "Respect exists in both directions. I came here for Alessandro not to be embarrassed."
Signor Ricci pointed at her and flared his nose. "I will see to it you regret this."
"Sure. With that, luck should be yours." Turning on her heel, she picked her bag from the porch chair. She turned back and grinned halfway along the road. "And one more thing—go to hell."
His sharp yelling subsided as she turned away. Though she pushed it aside, her heart hurt. Alessandro appreciated her. His father had no bearing on this. Why, though, was he not home? They intended. Has something happened?
She sighed and ran her temple under her hand. She avoided thinking about it. She had still another task to do.
Wiping her wet hands on a towel, Isabella rushed to the living room to find Sofia seated waiting.
Isabella said, "Hey, girl," then dropped on a stool. "What's up?"
Sofia started to smile under pressure. "Nothing much."
Isabella scowled and grabbed the hands of her friend. "Surely?"
"Oh, you know, just tired."
They looked at one another long before Isabella let it go. "OK. Why then are you here? And where is Beatrice?"
Sofia stooped forward. "I came across a position for you."
Isabella’s brows lifted. "You really are serious? You know I will grab anything right now."
Sofia gave a pause. "Are you sure?"
"Naturally! Just tell me already."
Sofia drew a long breath and looked back. "It is surrogacy."
Calm. And then laughter. "Ha, hah. Highly humorous."
"I take this seriously."
The smile of Isabella lost strength. "Wait... like, actually carrying someone else's baby?"
Sofia agreed. "The agency's looking."
"You've lost your mind," Isabella said, blurting. "That's insane!"
"I know how this sounds," Sofia said hurriedly. "But I investigated. You satisfy all the criteria—age, health, and all around."
Isabella let out a hard swallow. "Still, pregnancy—what if something goes wrong?"
Sofia spoke in a softer tone. "LEO. And regarding him?"
There's a stop. A whisper then. "Nevertheless."
"There are no 'buts,'" Isabella said. "You are twenty-three. You ought to have the money."
Isabella dropped her head between her hands. "This is not what I had in mind for my life."
Sofia put one arm around her. "Life never runs the way we have scheduled."
A long inhale. "Thanked you."
"Anytime."
Sofia got up and reached for her suitcase. "Just think about it, okay?"
"I'll…"
Isabella called after her at the door, a mocking glitter in her eyes. "Thus, what was the date??"
Sofia grew stiffer. "What day?"
Isabella grimaced. "What happened?"
Tears started to blink back; tears backed off. "Signature Ricci. He messed it up."
"Aww, lady. I'm regretful. But Alessandro loves you, so okay?"
"True is what I say here."
"But..." though
Sofia gave a sigh. "It's awkward." He continues this, and Alessandro says nothing.
Pulled her into a hug, Isabella "Don't spend your tears on him."
Sofia nodded and dabbed at her face. "Thanks."
"Tell me what you decide, please."
"I shall."
Isabella leaned against the closing door, hands pressed to her face.
Surrogate. Could she really act this way?
But absent from this would be...
She did not want to consider her mother's fate.
What was she meant to do, Lord?