Page 74 of Ruined By the Enemy
My uncle’s face doesn’t reveal anything. It’s grim, closed off, even from his niece. “It doesn’t matter. Tell him he can buy into the company. He can buy the entire thing if he wants. The CEO will be declaring bankruptcy tomorrow.”
I see. My uncle’s decision to back out of a company he forced me to protect, only means one thing: Everything is about to go to hell.
“What’s the catch?” I ask, my voice tighter than I intend.How bad is it going to be?I don’t want to find out for myself, because if I do…I’ll be tempted to pull Domenico out.
I’d save him again, just like in Italy.
“Just do as you’re told,” he snaps. “That’s what I’ve been training you for.”
Right.
I’m the one who gets to plant the bomb, but I have no idea how big the blast will be or how many people it’ll take down with it.
My uncle watches me, his eyes sharp for any sign of hesitation. “Don’t tell me you’re having trouble seeing it to the end,” he says. “It’s either this or I put a bullet through his head.”
My heart lurches.
So those are my options: destroy him from a distance, or let him bleed out in front of me.
And either way, I’ll be the one who lit the fuse.
Epilogue
Dom
“Sophie?”
I watch her snap out of her daze as she glances around, trying to grasp her bearings. She’s been like that all morning—staring into space, fidgeting with her hands.
Running.
It’s Italy all over again. “Are you coming? You’re making the introductions, remember?”
“Oh yeah,” she exits the car in a hurry, slapping on a smile as she brushes her hands over her dress. But her voice is tight, stretched thin like she’s about to snap. “I’m sorry. It’s this way.”
She’s already marching toward the doors before I can say anything else, her shoulders squared like armor, but tension still leaks from how her hands curl at her sides.
I widen my stride to match her pace, falling beside her, even though she doesn’t look at me.
The silence stretches between us as we enter the building and the elevator. The ride to the top floor feels like being shoved into a too-small box, although I have a feeling she’s the one struggling to breathe.
Not just a feeling. I can see it in her panicked eyes.
Sophie stands just far enough to make it feel like I’m not supposed to close the distance.
When the doors slide open, I speak again, quietly this time. “You sure you’re okay?”
She doesn’t look at me and gives a stiff nod. “Yes.”
“And you can handle the meeting? If you want to reschedule, I’m sure I can make up an excuse. After what happened in Italy—”
“No.” Her response is hurried, and her voice rises like a cry for help.
“Okay.” I shrug, “Lead the way, then.”
We walk into the office of the CEO of One Construction, a man with a flashy suit and a grin that feels suspicious from the moment the door opens. Mark Ross.
“Welcome,” he says, gesturing to the leather chairs in front of his desk. “Please sit, Mr. Moretti.”
