Page 72 of Claimed By the Enemy

“That’s all.”

“Sophie.” He leans forward, his voice gentle but firm. “I love you.”

The words hit like a physical blow. “Dom-”

“I love you, and I know you’re lying to me.”

“I’m not-”

“Yes, you are. You’ve been lying to me since you walked through that door last night. Maybe longer.” He stands up, moving around the desk to stand in front of me. “And I need to know why.”

I can’t breathe. Can’t think. Can’t figure out how to tell him that I love him too, but that love might not be enough to save either of us.

“It’s complicated,” I whisper.

“Uncomplicate it.”

“I can’t.”

“Sophie.” Dom’s hands frame my face, forcing me to look at him. “Whatever your uncle told you, whatever he asked you to do, we can figure it out together.”

“Can we?”

“Yes. But only if you trust me.”

Trust. Such a simple word for something so impossible.

I close my eyes, leaning into his touch. “What if the truth destroys everything?”

“Then we’ll deal with that too.”

“What if I’ve done things… promised things that I can’t take back?”

“Then we’ll figure out how to move forward.”

“Dom-”

“Sophie.” His thumbs brush across my cheekbones, wiping away tears I didn’t realize were falling. “Whatever this is, whatever you’re carrying, you don’t have to carry it alone anymore.”

For a moment, I almost tell him. Almost confess everything about Uncle Enzo’s ultimatum, about the choice I’ve been forced to make, about the promise I gave to protect him even if it means betraying the man I love.

But then I remember Uncle Enzo’s face when he talked about finishing the job himself. Remember the cold certainty in his voice when he said Dom had to pay for his father’s crimes.

If I tell Dom the truth, he’ll try to protect me. Will put himself in danger to keep me safe.

And Uncle Enzo will kill him for it.

“I need time,” I say instead. “Just… give me a little more time to figure this out.”

“How much time?”

“I don’t know.”

Dom studies my face for a long moment, and I can see him making calculations behind his eyes. Weighing my words against what he knows, what he suspects.

“Okay,” he says finally. “But Sophie? Time isn’t infinite. Whatever’s happening, whatever you’re planning, it needs to happen soon.”

“Why?”