Chapter 6: Strings Attached
1073 Words
The ride back to the penthouse was quiet, the kind of quiet that weighed on Sofia’s chest. Dominic sat beside her in the back seat of the sleek black car, his jaw locked, his gaze out the window. His phone buzzed twice, but he ignored it. The city blurred past them in streaks of gray and silver, but Sofia couldn’t focus on anything except the pit growing in her stomach.
Someone had targeted her. And the threat hadn’t been vague—it was personal. Deliberate.
“I want to know who sent that message,” she finally said, breaking the silence.
“You’ll know as soon as I do,” Dominic replied, not looking at her. “Marcus has people tracing the number. If they’ve made contact once, they’ll likely do it again. That’s when we trap them.”
“But why me?” she asked. “Why not go after you directly?”
He glanced at her now, his voice rough. “Because going after you hurts me more.”
Her breath caught at that admission. He turned away quickly, as if the words had slipped past his usual defenses.
They arrived at the penthouse just after sunset. As soon as the elevator doors opened, Dominic’s security team swarmed the place—checking the perimeter, testing the surveillance systems, and quietly reinforcing the entry points.
“You’ll have a bodyguard from now on,” Dominic told her once they were alone in the living room. “At all times. No exceptions. I meant what I said this morning, and this just confirmed it.”
Sofia folded her arms. “So now I’m under house arrest?”
He exhaled slowly. “It’s protection, Sofia. Not punishment.”
“You don’t get to make decisions for me like that.”
He stepped closer, his voice lower. “I have to make those decisions. Because if anything happened to you—”
He stopped himself, jaw clenching.
“If something happened,” he corrected, “it would compromise everything. My company. My public image. The entire deal.”
Ah, there it was again—the contract. The reason she existed in his world.
She nodded, masking the sting in her chest. “Of course. Wouldn’t want to ruin your empire.”
He looked at her then, really looked at her. “That’s not what I meant.”
“But that’s what you said.”
The room went still. The air between them thickened with everything unspoken.
“I need to go change,” she said, turning on her heel before he could reply.
She retreated to her room, shutting the door behind her. The silence was suffocating. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.
Why did it hurt so much? She knew what this arrangement was. She agreed to it. But every time he showed a sliver of emotion and then buried it under corporate logic, it felt like a door slamming in her face.
Sofia changed into comfortable clothes—leggings and an oversized sweater—and tried to distract herself with a book. It didn’t work. Her mind kept drifting back to the messages. To Dominic. To the look in his eyes when he said someone hurting her would hurt him more.
And then came a knock.
She opened the door to find Ava holding a shopping bag and a small velvet box.
“These were just delivered for you, ma’am.”
Sofia took them, brows raised. “From who?”
Ava smiled faintly. “Mr. Stone didn’t say, but I assume he arranged it.”
Once alone, she set the bag on the bed and opened the box. Inside was a sleek new phone, already activated. The screen lit up with a single message from a contact saved only as D.:
> Use this from now on. It’s encrypted. Marcus set it up for your safety. Delete the old one. —D
Beneath the phone was a handwritten note. It wasn’t long.
> I’m sorry you were dragged into this. I never intended for you to be in danger. This isn’t the life you should have. I’ll make it right—whatever it takes.
She stared at the signature—just his initial—and felt something pull tight inside her. It wasn’t love. Not yet. But it was the thread of something that might one day become it.
Later that night, Sofia found herself unable to sleep. The city lights glittered below, and the penthouse was quiet, the hum of the security system the only sound. She wandered into the kitchen for water and found Dominic already there, shirtless, leaning against the island counter.
They both froze for a moment.
“I didn’t expect you to still be up,” he said quietly.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Me neither.”
She poured a glass of water and leaned against the counter opposite him.
“I got your note,” she said.
He nodded. “I meant every word.”
They stood in silence, eyes locked across the marble counter.
“I don’t want to be just another name on a list of your mistakes, Dominic,” she said finally.
“You’re not.”
“You could’ve fooled me.”
He moved toward her then, slowly, like a storm creeping over the horizon. When he stopped in front of her, she had to tilt her head to meet his eyes.
“I didn’t marry you to hurt you,” he said. “I married you to protect something. But now… I don’t know if I’m protecting my company, or you.”
She swallowed hard. “Maybe it’s both.”
He reached up slowly, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.
“Maybe,” he whispered.
His touch lingered.
She could feel her heart pounding. The way his fingers barely touched her skin. The heat radiating between them.
He leaned in—just enough for her to feel his breath on her lips.
But he didn’t kiss her.
Not yet.
And that was somehow worse.
“We should both get some sleep,” he said huskily, pulling back.
Sofia nodded, her voice barely audible. “Right.”
And as he disappeared into the shadows of the hallway, she stood frozen—unsure if she’d just imagined the whole thing… or if they were both teetering on the edge of something that neither of them was ready to name.
- Writer
