Billionaire's Secret Wife

Chapter 10: A Target on Her Back

The city never truly slept, but tonight felt particularly restless. Even the wind seemed sharp, whistling through the Stone estate’s glass corridors like a warning.

Sofia stood on the balcony, arms wrapped tightly around herself. Down below, the driveway glistened under a thin mist of rain. She felt exposed—like someone was watching. And maybe they were.

The letter still echoed in her head.

Your wife will drown first.

She hated how personal it had become. Hated that she wasn’t just collateral damage anymore—she was the warning.

Behind her, the sliding door opened quietly. Dominic stepped out, draping a wool coat around her shoulders.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said softly.

“I don’t want to feel like a prisoner in my own home.”

“You’re not,” he said. “You’re my wife.”

She turned to him, studying his face. His expression was taut, but there was something new in his eyes now—a quiet intensity, as if the realization of what she meant to him was finally settling in.

“They mean what they say, don’t they?” she asked. “This isn’t just business. They want to ruin you. And hurt me.”

“Yes,” Dominic admitted. “Adrian Blake’s not just trying to expose the past. He wants to make it personal.”

“And it already is,” she murmured.

He reached out, brushing her hair behind her ear. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“You can’t promise that,” she whispered.

“No,” he said, voice low, “but I can promise I’ll burn everything down before I let them touch you.”

She didn’t flinch at the threat. In fact, it was the calm way he said it that chilled her. Dominic wasn’t bluffing. He would burn down companies, alliances—hell, even the world—if it meant keeping her safe.

“I need to do something,” Sofia said. “I can’t just sit around waiting to be targeted again.”

Dominic hesitated. “What are you suggesting?”

“Let me talk to him.”

“To Blake?” His voice rose sharply. “Absolutely not.”

“He wants to hurt me, right? Then maybe I can draw him out.”

“That’s exactly why I won’t let you go near him.”

“I’m not a child, Dominic,” she snapped. “I’ve been pulled into this war. I deserve to fight back.”

He stared at her, and for the first time, he saw something more than the quiet, kind girl he married. He saw fire. Resolve.

“You’re more dangerous than I thought,” he murmured.

“I married a dangerous man. It’s only fair you get a dangerous woman in return.”

---

The next morning, Sofia sat with Marcus and Dominic in the underground surveillance room. Every screen displayed a different camera angle from their home, their office building, even the parking garage. The estate had been reinforced overnight—extra guards, facial recognition scanners, and encrypted phone lines.

“Any word from the cyber team?” Dominic asked Marcus.

“They’ve narrowed down the source of the letter drop. Public CCTV shows a man wearing a mask and gloves, dropping the envelope outside the gate around 2:17 a.m. He walked four blocks and disappeared in a white van. No plates. No prints.”

“So he’s careful,” Sofia said. “But not infallible.”

Marcus nodded. “We’ve flagged the area. If he returns, we’ll know.”

Dominic glanced at Sofia. “And until then, you don’t leave the estate unless I’m with you.”

She raised a brow. “So we’re joined at the hip now?”

“Is that a complaint?”

“Depends on the hip.”

He smirked.

But beneath the teasing, she knew he meant it. He was afraid. And the way his eyes lingered on her—longer now, softer—told her something he hadn’t dared say yet.

He was falling for her.

And the scariest part?

She was falling, too.

---

Later that afternoon, Sofia slipped into Dominic’s office while he was on a call. Her fingers trailed over the leather-bound books on his shelves, the quiet symbols of his power. She paused when she reached a picture frame.

It wasn’t facing out.

She turned it.

Inside was a photo. Old. A woman with auburn hair holding a little boy with fierce gray eyes.

Dominic.

And—his mother?

Just as she leaned in to look closer, Dominic stepped inside.

He froze, seeing the frame in her hand.

“You never talk about her,” Sofia said gently.

He walked over and took the frame from her, placing it face down on the desk. “Because some things are better left buried.”

“She looks kind,” Sofia whispered.

“She was,” he said after a pause. “Too kind. Too trusting. She married my father thinking she could change him. She died believing it was her fault she couldn’t.”

Sofia’s heart clenched.

“I was twelve,” he continued. “And I swore I’d never need anyone the way she needed him.”

“But you needed her,” she said.

He met her eyes, and for the first time, the steel cracked.

“Yes.”

They stood in silence for a moment, surrounded by shadows and secrets.

“I’m not her,” Sofia said.

“I know,” he replied. “But I still don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t.”

He reached for her hand. “Then let me trust you. Let me bring you fully into this.”

She nodded, heart thudding.

“We’ll play this together, Dominic,” she said. “But we do it my way next.”

He gave a small, reluctant smile. “You’re more trouble than I expected.”

“And you’re not nearly as heartless as you pretend to be.”

She leaned in, kissing him softly.

And this time, neither of them pulled away.