Page 7 of Claimed By the Enemy
“Since the beginning.”
Raff stares at me for a long moment. “You’ve been playing some kind of game with her.”
“Something like that.”
“And now this Caruso shows up, saying you’ve let a woman make a fool of you. He’s talking about making people disappear, too, and you’re sitting here like this is just another Tuesday at the office.” Raff runs a hand through his hair. “Dom, what have you gotten yourself into?”
Before I can answer, my phone buzzes with a text message. Unknown number.
The girl dies, or you both do. Choose wisely.
I stare at the screen, feeling pieces of a puzzle I don’t yet understand clicking into place. The letter. Caruso’s visit. Now this.
Someone is orchestrating this. Someone wants Sophie dead, and they’re using me to make it happen.
“I have to go,” I say, grabbing my jacket.
“Go where? Dom, you can’t just leave after dropping something like this on me.”
“I’ll explain later.” I’m already moving toward the door. “Just… watch yourself, Raff. And don’t trust anyone asking questions about Sophie or me.”
“Dom!”
But I’m already gone, mind fixed on a single, crystal-clear realization.
Whatever game I thought I was playing with Sophie Bellini, the stakes just got infinitely higher. And if I want to keep her alive long enough to get the truth out of her, I’m going to have to find a way to protect her that doesn’t involve making her disappear.
The elevator ride down gives me time to think, to consider options. Traditional protection won’t work, not when the threat is coming from inside the community my father helped build. I need something more permanent. More binding.
Something that makes Sophie untouchable.
The lobby magazine rack catches my eye as I wait for my car. Business journals, financial newspapers, and tucked between them, a glossy lifestyle magazine with a cover story about society weddings.
When Marriage Means More Than Love: Strategic Unions in High Society
I stare at the headline for a long moment, an idea beginning to form in the back of my mind. Crazy. Impossible. But maybe…
Maybe crazy is exactly what this situation requires.
The concept crystallizes as I think about Caruso’s visit, his thinly veiled threats.
Right now, Sophie makes me look weak - the CEO who was fooled by a beautiful spy.
But what if I flipped the narrative entirely? What if instead of being her victim, I became her master?
What if I’m not the fool who was deceived, but the master who conquered his enemy so completely that he made her his wife?
My phone buzzes again. This time it’s a call from the house.
“Mr. Moretti?” Patrice, the housekeeper’s voice is tight with concern. “I think you should come home. Miss Sophie… she’s not well.”
The magazine forgotten, I’m already running toward my car.
Chapter Three
Sophie
The sound of Dom’s car in the driveway makes my stomach clench, but I don’t move from where I’m sprawled across his ridiculously expensive couch.
