Page 89 of Claimed By the Enemy

“Is there any chance your uncle would actually hurt Dom? Or is this more likely to be a conversation that got out of hand?”

I think about Uncle Enzo’s face when his people brought me to him. The disappointment in his eyes when he talked about my wavering loyalty. The cold certainty in his voice when he said he’d finish the job himself if I couldn’t.

“I don’t know,” I whisper. “A few days ago, I would have said no. Uncle Enzo isn’t a killer. But now… I think he might do anything he believes is necessary to protect what’s left of our family.”

“Even if it means losing you?”

“Maybe he thinks he’s already lost me.”

Raff’s phone rings, and he answers immediately. “Yeah?” His expression changes as he listens. “Are you sure? Okay, we’ll be right there.”

“What?”

“Harbor patrol spotted a yacht anchored near Hart Island. Matches the description of Dom’s charter.”

Hart Island. Where the city buries its unclaimed dead.

“That’s not a coincidence,” I say.

“No, it’s not. Come on.”

We take Raff’s speedboat, cutting through the dark water toward the distant lights of Hart Island. My stomach churns with each wave we hit, though I’m not sure if it’s seasickness or fear.

Or the pregnancy. God, the pregnancy. My baby.

“There,” Raff says, pointing toward a sleek yacht anchored about a hundred yards from shore. “That’s Dom’s charter.”

Even from a distance, I can see figures moving on the deck. At least three people, maybe more.

“How do we do this?” I ask.

“Carefully. If your uncle really has taken Dom hostage, we can’t just charge in there.”

“But we can’t just sit here either.”

“No, we can’t.” Raff cuts the engine, letting us drift closer. “Sophie, I need you to know something. If this goes bad, if we can’t get Dom out safely…”

“Don’t.”

“You’re going to have to live with whatever happens. You’re going to have to take care of yourself.”

“Raff-”

“Promise me. Whatever happens tonight, you survive it. Dom would never forgive me if something happened to you because I let you come along.”

I look at this man who’s been Dom’s closest friend for over a decade, who’s risking his life to help save someone he cares about.

“I promise,” I say. “But Raff? We’re not losing him tonight.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I have something to tell him. Something important. And I’m not letting Uncle Enzo take that away from me.”

We tie off to the yacht’s stern, using the swimming platform to board as quietly as possible. Voices carry across the water - Dom’s voice, tense but controlled, and Uncle Enzo’s, softer but somehow more dangerous.

“…never wanted to hurt you, Domenico. But you’ve forced my hand.”

“By falling in love with your niece?”