Page 29 of Ruined By the Enemy
Was that why Raff didn’t buy my excuse? Because I’d been gone for so long but I didn’t seem to register it?
“What do you think?” I pivot the question to him. “I trust your judgement,” I add with a smile at his hesitation.
“Sure,” he shrugs. “Ah—” I slip out of the conversation again, falling back to my thoughts. I need to get things straightened out. Holding feelings for Sophie, no matter how superficial they might be, would be shooting myself in the foot, then in the head.
Which means I have to get to the bottom of her ruse as soon as possible.
***
“Okay,” Raff stops me as I stand up after the meeting, beating me to the door. He folds his arms. “You need to tell me the truth. You’ve been acting weird since you returned from the trip you took with Sophie—”
“You mean the work trip?” I cut in, setting him straight.
He shrugs. “Sure, let’s call it that. You’ve been acting weird since then, heck, since she joined the company. What is going on?”
“Nothing,” I say. “But I’d like to go home and take a long nap, so if you could get out of the way…” I walk towards him, but he spreads his arms out in protest.
I cock my head slowly as my stare narrows, sending him a silent threat. “Nope,” he shakes his head. “You were out of it when you walked in. Whatever distracted you, it wasn’t just a fight at the bar. You looked… ruffled,” he explains as his hands drop.
“I’ve been your friend since college, Dom, and the only thing that has ever ruffled you was when you thought your first investor meeting was going to fail, and even then,” he clicks his tongue, “you didn’t have me covering up for you.”
It wasn’t a fear that the investors’ meeting would go wrong. It was a rumor about an attack brewing on the Morettis. I was eighteen, three years past my parents’ death, and I had to keep my father’s legacy going. I met with other heads working the underground, forging allies, and signing treaties.
“Let me help,” Raff places a hand on my shoulder. “I’m your best friend.”
I exhale slowly. There’s no point in doing it on my own. I don’t intend on telling him the whole truth, though. “Sophie. I need you to keep an eye on her—a closer eye,” I clarify.
The corner of his mouth turns in a confused, deliberating frown. “Okay, that’s a bit weird. I thought you were done being suspicious?”
“You want to help?” I snap.
He raises his hands. “No need to get defensive. I’ll keep an eye out. You must have a good reason anyway.”
What better reason is there to give, other than the fact that she’s the daughter of a murderer?
Chapter Eight
Sophie
The phone drops from my hand slowly, and a feeling of dread spreads through my chest. My fingers sink through my hair, and my head hangs down, muffling a sound of despair.
“What have I done?” I moan.
I knew last night was a bad idea.Actually, I thought it was foolproof.
But I didn’t factor in the part where I’d get caught by the man I was spying on, then get dragged into a room where anyone could hear my heart beating from a mile away. It was sloppy work at best, and my excuses felt like a sorry attempt to gnaw my foot out of a trap.
“Who did I think it’d fool?” I mutter as I lift my head, massaging the migraine tearing my head apart. I’ve beenthinking about it since last night, and I still have the deleted files in my inbox to show them.
I thought about quitting, even went ahead and wrote emails as drafts to myself, then deleted them afterward.
Because if I were to quit out of the blue after being accused of spying, it would confirm my guilt. And someone like Domenico Moretti wouldn’t let it go. In no time, he’ll find out everything, and I would’ve not only jeopardized the plan but also blown my cover.
How do I know he hasn’t found out already, though?It’s not every morning you get a call from your boss’s office, asking you to show up immediately.
I press my nails between my teeth, biting down on them. He knows.
Maybe not everything, but he’s found enough to get the rest from me. As I race to my inbox trash, my fingers fly across my keyboard, pulling out the last email I drafted:
