Page 79 of Claimed By the Enemy

“So what’s the plan?”

“I don’t know yet. But Raff, Sophie just gave up everything to protect me. Her family, her mission, probably her safety. The least I can do is make sure it wasn’t for nothing.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning we find out who’s really behind this, and we end it before Uncle Enzo can follow through on his threats.”

“And if we can’t?”

I think about Sophie’s face when she told me she loved me. About the way she’d been willing to sacrifice everything just to keep me safe.

“Then we make sure Sophie survives whatever’s coming. Even if I don’t.”

Twenty minutes after Sophie leaves, my phone rings. Vincent’s name on the screen.

“Sir, there’s been an incident.”

My blood turns to ice. “What kind of incident?”

“Mrs. Moretti collapsed outside the building. She’s been taken to Mount Sinai Hospital.”

I’m already grabbing my jacket, my keys, everything I need to get to her as fast as possible.

“Is she conscious?”

“Yes, sir. But sir… the paramedics think she might have fainted from stress.”

Stress. Because of everything I just put her through. Because she had to confess sixteen years of lies and betrayal just to prove she loved me.

“I’m on my way.”

“Sir? The doctors are asking about next of kin, medical history…”

“Tell them I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

I run through the hospital corridors like a man possessed, ignoring the disapproving looks from staff and patients alike. Sophie is here, somewhere in this maze of white walls and antiseptic smells, and I need to see her. Need to make sure she’s okay.

“Domenico Moretti,” I tell the nurse at the emergency desk. “My wife was brought in about thirty minutes ago. Sophie Moretti.”

“Room 312. Third floor.”

I take the stairs three at a time, my heart hammering against my ribs. What if the stress of confessing everything was too much? What if I pushed her too hard, too fast?

What if I’ve lost her just when I finally got her back?

Room 312 is quiet when I push through the door. Sophie is lying in a hospital bed, looking small and pale against the white sheets. Her eyes are closed, but she’s breathing steadily.

“Sophie?”

Her eyes flutter open, focusing on me with obvious relief. “Dom.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Embarrassed. I’ve never fainted in my life.”

“The doctor said it was stress.”

“Probably.” Sophie tries to sit up, but I gently push her back down.