Page 66 of Bound to the Enforcer

"She's awake," I answer, but there is a tightness, still a little raw from the fear that had gripped me when I thought I'd lost her. "Barely, but she's here."

Matteo nods, his gaze shifting to Sophia, who stirs slightly at the sound. Her eyes flutter open, weak but focused. She gives Matteo a small, tired smile.

"Hey," she whispers.

Matteo steps closer, sitting at the edge of the bed. His eyes linger on her, a mixture of relief and weariness. "You really had us worried there," he utters quietly.

Sophia manages a weak smile. "I'm sorry. I never meant to make you worry."

I watch them both for a moment, my chest tight with the unspoken weight between us. Matteo's sister is still missing, and there's no telling what the Russians will do next. I know the families are fractured, and the Russians—now that they've lost their head—are about to fall into chaos. The instability could tear everything apart, but in this moment, I don't want to think about that. Not when Sophia is finally awake.

Matteo breaks the silence. "We need to talk about the Russians. The situation's worse than we thought." He glances toward the door, making sure no one else is around. "Since the head of their family is dead, there are factions already fighting to take control. It's going to get ugly."

Sophia's eyes glower with concern, but she doesn't look at me—she knows my thoughts on the matter. I rub my face, trying to focus on the issue.

"We already knew they were a problem. But now? Without a leader, they're unpredictable. They're going to fracture."

Matteo nods, his face hardening. "The Russians are going to need someone to rally behind. And we know Domenico's former allies aren't just going to sit back. We need to be ready for anything. They're not done with us."

I lean back in my chair, trying to keep calm. "We've been through this before. The Russians were always going to be a threat. They want control of what we've built, and they'll take it any way they can."

Matteo sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It's not just that, Alessio. Some of the families are already making moves.The Italians, the French—everyone's on edge. This might be our chance to seize more power, but it could also tear everything apart."

"I'm not worried about power," I mutter under my breath, glancing at Sophia. She's still weak, still barely holding on, and the thought of everything else—the Russian threat, the fractured families—feels like too much. I want to focus on her, on making sure she's safe, but it's impossible to ignore what's coming.

Matteo watches me, his gaze steady. "Look, I know you're focused on her. You're doing the right thing, but don't forget what we're up against. If we don't move quickly, if we don't secure our position, things will get out of control."

Sophia, still too weak to sit up, lifts her hand slightly, squeezing Matteo's arm gently. "You're right," she says, but it is barely audible, her eyes meeting mine with a tired intensity. "We can't let them take over. Not after everything."

I nod, feeling the pressure build again. "I won't let anyone take anything from us. Not from you. Not from my family."

"Good," Matteo exclaims. "We need you both strong for what comes next."

I stare at Sophia, watching the way her hand trembles in mine. "You're right," I say, though something lodges in my throat. "But right now, all I care about is making sure you're okay. The rest can wait."

Sophia gives me a small, exhausted smile. "I'll be fine, Alessio. I'm not going anywhere."

And for a moment, it feels like she's right, like the chaos outside can be pushed aside for just this fleeting moment. But I know, deep down, we can't afford to ignore it for long.

"Get some rest," I say softly, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. "We'll handle the rest."

Matteo gives me a long, silent look before turning to leave. "I'll be in touch. Stay alert. We're not out of the woods yet."

As he exits, I sit silently, my focus completely on Sophia. The weight of everything else fades for a moment, but the danger is still there, waiting.

But for now, I'll hold onto her, hold onto the moment. I can't lose her. Not now. Not ever.

The days pass slowly, each one blending into the next, but I never leave her side. The hospital room feels too small for everything that's happened—the fear, the uncertainty, the way the world seems to be on the brink of falling apart. But Sophia is here. She's breathing. And that's enough to keep me holding on.

She's made progress. Small steps, but they're enough to reassure me, even if only for a moment. She's awake more often now, stronger, though she's still pale and weak. I can't help but notice the way her hand trembles when she reaches for mine or the way her eyes flash with exhaustion after just a few words. It's clear she's still fighting, but so am I.

It's hard to focus on anything but her. The Russian situation, the fractured families, all of it feels distant compared to the relief of seeing her alive. But the reality is always there, hovering in the back of my mind, reminding me that we can't hide forever.

I pace the small room, my thoughts running in circles. The door creaks open, and Matteo steps in, his expression as grim as it's been for the last few days. The Russians are splintering, and the families are moving in their own directions, trying to claim whatever territory they can. He doesn't need to say anything for me to know that things are escalating.

"She's doing better," I say before Matteo can speak, glancing at Sophia, who's resting with her eyes closed. Her breath is steady, and the faint rise and fall of her chest keeps me grounded.

Matteo gives me a nod but doesn't seem to be reassured. He moves to the chair by the window and sits down, his hands clasped in front of him.

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