Page 73 of Ruined By the Enemy
My teeth clench as my fist curls, my anger directed at him. “Why did you lie?” I demand. “And where in the plan did it say you had to kill him, risking my life too?”
I wait for an answer, breathing heavily in the silence that follows. I can still hear the gunshots ringing through, and the bullet that penetrated the door. If I’d been behind it or in the line of fire, I would’ve died.
My uncle, the only family I have left, would be responsible for my death.
“Am I…?” My voice breaks, and I wipe at my eyes furiously, turning away so he wouldn’t see me break down. I lift my shoulders and face him again. “Am I that expendable, uncle? Was it easy for you to write off the possibility that they might’ve killed me?”
A thought so horrible it feeds terror through my veins, slips into my mind. The accident. The one where I almost died, and I thought Dom had been the main target.
Was my uncle behind that, too?
He stands suddenly, his hands fisting at his sides.” If they had hurt you—” his voice cracks, the mask slipping, “if they had killed you, Sophie, I would’ve hunted them down to their last breath.” His chest heaves. “There would’ve been no mercy. No survivors.”
I stare at him. Knowing that he still cares should bring me some relief, but it doesn’t, not after what I had to endure.
My lips part, but the words barely make it out as my heart breaks. “I’d still be dead, though, wouldn’t I?”
He sits down again, heavily. “They were sloppy,” he says. There’s no apology, no accountability. Instead, he brushes over it like it doesn’t matter. I bite my tongue from pushing it further, knowing it’s the most I’ll ever get from him.
“I let you deal with him how you see fit,” he says, flipping open the document on his desk. His eyes are hardened when he looks at me, the regret from before completely gone. “But don’t think for a moment that when he finds out who you are, he won’t put a knife to your throat.”
Dom. That’s who he means.
“He—”
“Wouldn’t?” My uncle scoffs. “You’ve been around him for weeks. Is he the kind of man to forgive, especially when he finds out you’ve been working for him under pretenses?”
It takes a second for it to hit me that I’m being blackmailed. My jaw falls slack. I blink at him, stunned.
“You’re going to sell me out?”
The question barely makes it past the knot in my throat.
His expression doesn’t flinch. “If that’s what it takes to bring you to your senses, then yes.” His tone is flat and cold. “But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
I stare at him, searching for some trace of the man who took me in after my parents died and told me I could always rely on him.
There’s nothing there. No guilt or shame. Just strategy.
The final piece clicks into place as my mouth curls into a sad smile. I shouldn’t be surprised.
Enzo Bellini has always been willing to do whatever it takes for revenge—even if it means offering up blood that’s supposed to be his own.
Mine.
He shoves the document at me. “I was planning to wrap things up a week ago, but since you got in the way, you’ll finish it.”
I pick it up with shaky hands but I don’t look at it. “You get only one shot,” he says. “Make him put in an offer to buy the company and make sure it goes through. Then you leave the country.”
My head shoots up.
“Leave the country?”
“Yes. I need you far away when things blow open. Trust me, you don’t want to be anywhere near Domenico Moretti.”
I don’t ask how bad it is because I already know he won’t tell me. I glance at the document again, flipping the first page open.My brows draw sharply and the questions are already on my tongue before I even lift my head.
“One Construction?” There’s shock and confusion. “Why? I thought you said you didn’t want him anywhere near the company? You wanted to buy it,” I grind my teeth, frustration seeping through. “Now you want me to dump it on him, why?”
