Page 65 of Claimed By the Enemy

“You didn’t call the cops?” I want to hit him. Want to hit myself.

“I called you fifty times! Your phone went straight to voicemail every time. Patrice and I didn’t know if you’d moved her somewhere safe, if this was planned—”

“Does this look planned to you?” I’m shouting now, my voice echoing off concrete walls.

“Get me that address of the motel. Now.”

“Sir-”

“NOW!”

***

Thirty minutes earlier, I’d stood in the doorway of room 237 at Highway Motor Lodge, staring at the chaos someone had left behind.

Overturned chair. Broken lamp. Scuff marks across cheap carpet that told the story of a struggle. The management hadn’t bothered cleaning up - probably waiting for police who would never come because no one had called them.

Vincent had driven Sophie’s BMW back to the house while I memorized every detail of that trashed motel room. The chair was knocked toward the bathroom. The lamp cord stretchedacross the floor like someone had grabbed it as a weapon. The door hangs open like a mouth screaming silent accusations.

Sophie had fought. Whatever happened in that room, my wife hadn’t gone quietly.

Now I stood outside Uncle Riccardo’s penthouse, my hands still shaking from what I’d seen, ready to get answers from the one person who might know who wanted to hurt my family.

He lives in a penthouse that overlooks Central Park. I’ve never visited unannounced before.

Today, I don’t give a damn about protocol.

“Domenico.” Riccardo opens the door wearing a silk robe and an expression of mild surprise. “This is unexpected.”

“We need to talk.”

“Of course. Come in.”

His living room is a study in minimalist elegance, featuring clean lines and art on the walls. I don’t sit when he gestures to the sofa.

“Sophie’s missing.”

“Missing?” Riccardo moves to his bar cart, pouring himself a drink despite the early hour. “How concerning.”

“That’s it? That’s your reaction?”

“What would you like me to say, Domenico? I warned you about bringing a Bellini into this family.”

“Someone took her from a motel room. There were signs of a struggle. I went there myself. I don’t want to involve the cops.”

“Perhaps she simply decided to leave. You did marry her under rather… unusual circumstances.”

I step closer.

“Someone kidnapped my wife, and you’re standing there making jokes about it.”

“I’m not joking. I’m being realistic.” Riccardo takes a sip of his whiskey. “Sophie Bellini came into your life for one reason: to destroy you. Maybe this is simply her exit strategy.”

“She wouldn’t just disappear.”

“Think about it, Domenico. She’s gotten everything she wanted. Access to your company and your trust. Maybe the fantasy finally wore off.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”