Page 96 of Claimed By the Enemy

Complete.

Chapter Twenty-One

Dom

“You’re sure about this?”

Uncle Enzo’s voice carries across the parking garage where we’ve met to finalize our plan. Three days have passed since the yacht, three days of careful preparation and gathering evidence.

Three days of Sophie trying to convince me not to confront Riccardo directly.

“I’m sure,” I say, checking the recording device hidden in my jacket. “He needs to confess. On tape. It’s the only way to end this permanently.”

“And if he doesn’t confess? If he simply tries to kill you?”

“That’s where you come in.”

Uncle Enzo nods grimly. Behind him, two of his most trusted men wait by a black sedan. They’re armed, professional, and completely loyal to Sophie’s safety.

“Sophie doesn’t know about this part of the plan,” I say.

“She’d try to stop us.”

“She’d try to protect everyone. It’s what she does.”

“It’s what makes her remarkable,” Uncle Enzo agrees. “And what makes this necessary. Our children deserve to grow up free from the poison that’s been destroying our families.”

Our children. The words still send a shock through my system. In six months, Sophie and I will be parents. Our child will grow up in a world where Bellinis and Morettis are allies, not enemies.

If we survive the next hour.

“Vincent will drive you,” Uncle Enzo continues. “He’s been briefed on the exit strategy. The moment you get what we need, you signal him and we move.”

“And Sophie?”

“Is safely at home with Raff, believing you’re at a routine business meeting.” Uncle Enzo’s expression softens slightly. “She made me promise to bring you back alive.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That I owe her a lifetime of keeping that promise.”

Uncle Riccardo’s penthouse hasn’t changed since my last visit. Same expensive minimalism, same carefully curated art, same sense of old money and older secrets.

What’s different is the way he looks at me when I walk through the door.

Like he’s seeing a dead man.

“Domenico.” His smile is warm, paternal, exactly the same as it’s been my entire life. “This is unexpected.”

“Is it?”

“You’ve been keeping strange company lately. I was beginning to worry.”

“Were you?”

Riccardo closes the door behind me, his movements casual but deliberate. “Come, sit. We have much to discuss.”

I follow him into the living room, hyperaware of every detail. The placement of furniture, the distance to exits, and the way Riccardo’s hands move as he pours himself a drink.