Page 11 of Bound to the Enforcer

"Take him to the holding facility," I instruct, my tone curt. "We'll decide what to do with him later."

The men begin hauling the informant away, his muffled protests growing weaker with every step. I turn to Matteo, who's just reentered the room.

"Is she home?" I ask, not bothering to mask my irritation.

Matteo gives me a small shrug. "She's on her way, I had Dylan drive her. Not happy about it, though. You've got your hands full with that one."

"Tell me something I don't know," I mutter, running a hand through my hair. "Fucking Domenico is beginning to be a thorn in my side. He is up to something. Alejandro was onto his brother before he died, and now he is trying shit with Sophia."

Matteo frowns. "He's always been a sly one. But I'm not sure what to make of him now. It would be against the code to try and usurp the Romano throne. There are laws, procedures that he is not following."

I scoff. "And do you think he cares? The man only wants power. There is no honor in him."

Matteo nods his agreement. "Are you going to fill her in on what we found?"

"No," I say, the word coming out sharper than I intended. I exhale, trying to rein in my frustration. "Not yet. She doesn't need to know everything, not until I have more pieces of the puzzle. Why worry her when we can't do anything right away."

Matteo doesn't argue, just inclines his head before stepping away.

I stand in the warehouse and stare at my bloodied hands. I shake out my fist and look at the sky as if I can find an answer from the heavens. I am in the middle of a game with manymoving pieces. One wrong move and it could cost everything. I need to be careful.

The drive back to the estate is quiet, my thoughts circling like vultures. Domenico's plans are bigger than I anticipated, and the pieces are starting to come together in a way that leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I had my suspicions months before Alejandro's death, but to now have solid evidence? The New York outfit was many things, but we do not touch women or children. That is the law. For Alejandro to be in this line of work?

Flashes of my own childhood fill my memory, and my blood boils all over again.

Trafficking was a line Alejandro Romano never crossed, a boundary Domenico is eager to obliterate in his hunger for power.

I grip the steering wheel tighter. Sophia has no idea what she's up against, and I'm not sure she's ready to hear it. The weight of my promise to her father feels heavier with each passing day.

By the time I pull into the estate, the house is nothing but shadows. I cut the engine and step inside.

I find her pacing in the library, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her long wavy curls are loose. The budding fire casts long shadows across her face, highlighting the tension etched into her features. She stops when she sees me, her eyes narrowing.

"Well?" she demands, her tone sharp. "Did you learn anything, or am I still on a need-to-know basis?"

"Not now," I say. I rub the sides of my temple and try to soothe the growing headache.

"Not now?" she exclaims. "You're unbelievable, Alessio! You expect me to sit here like some clueless doll while you?—"

"Enough," I snap, cutting her off. "This isn't about what you want to know, Sophia. Do you think I'm out there for fun? Risking everything just to keep you in the dark? Everything I do, every move I make, is to protect you. There are a lot moving pieces here, and one wrong move from me costs your life and mine."

Her glare is fiery, but there's a crack in her armor—a flash of something that gives me pause.

"I don't want to be protected like I'm fragile," she mutters.

I soften, just slightly, my hands resting on the back of the chair. "You're not fragile, Sophia. In fact, you are one of the strongest people I know. But you're in danger. And until we deal with that threat over your head, you have to trust me and the decisions I make for you. Even if you hate it."

She doesn't respond immediately, just holds my glance, searching for something I can't name. Finally, she nods, a reluctant, almost imperceptible gesture.

It's enough. For now.

The thickness in the library lingers long after Sophia retreats to the couch, her arms folded tightly across her chest. She's not a woman who yields easily, I know that much. Her calmness isn't surrender—it's strategy. She's regrouping, trying to find another angle to pry information out of me.

I run a hand down my face and exhale slowly. My head's pounding from the interrogation, from the weight of everything I uncovered tonight. I sit across from her, the firelight moving between us, casting her expression in sharp relief.

"You're holding something back," she finally says. "I can see it. You're not telling me everything."

I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "Because you don't need to know everything, Sophia. Not yet."

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