The Enemy's Wife.

Chapter 4

The heavy doors clicked shut, leaving Emily trapped in silence.

The man hadn't moved. He stood exactly where he was, his gaze drilling into her with a sharp, calculating intensity.

Emily forced her chin up, desperate to get back some control. "Are you going to keep staring at me like I’m a broken piece of code, Mr. Reines, or are you going to give me my clothes?"

"Your wardrobe should be the least of your concerns." His gaze dropped to her stomach then lifted to her face.

Who is the father?"

Her fingers tightened on the duvet. "Why? Planning to send him a congratulations card?"

"Answer the question."

"None of your business."

"Everything that happens under my roof is my business," His voice dropped low, He leaned down, placing one hand on the mattress beside her hip, she caught the scent of cedar and her pulse betrayed her.

"You have no ID. You have an encrypted military-grade flash drive in your bag. And you are running from someone powerful enough to make you reject a public hospital while bleeding."

Something dark flashed across his face. "The man who made you run, is he the father?"

Emily felt the air in the room change. Every instinct told her to tell him the truth. One way or the other the man looked like the kind who always got answers.

"I can handle my own problems," she snapped. Her stomach growled loudly. Emily closed her eyes. Of all the humiliating moments possible, that had to happen in front of him. Damien's mouth twitched. Her cheek flushed red but she kept her glare locked on his. "And if you’re going to keep interrogating me like a dictator, the least you could do is provide a meal. Or is the great Mr. Reines not rich enough to afford a bowl of soup for a guest he ran over?"

"You have a lot of guts, sweetheart. Most people would be begging for mercy in your position, not demanding a menu."

"Fine. Just give me food," she murmured, folding her arms over her chest. "Before I actually pass out again and ruin your Italian rug."

He straightened up, pulling out his phone.

"Rose," he said, his tone shifting to something respectful. "Bring up a tray of light, nutrient-dense food to the medical wing. High protein, easy on the stomach. And a glass of warm milk."

He ended the call and looked back at her. "Rose will be up in ten minutes," Damien stated, crossing his arms. "And while you eat, better think of an answer to give me."

"I told you, I'm nobody," Emily insisted.

"A 'nobody' doesn't carry files that require a decryption matrix," he mummured.

Emily held his gaze.

For months, she had stayed one step ahead of everyone hunting her. Damien Reines was the first man who made her feel cornered.

A soft knock on the doors broke the silence. Rose stepped into the room, carrying a silver tray with the food he demanded.

She took one look at Damien.

"Have you frightened the poor girl yet?"

Damien sighed.

"Good evening to you too, Rose."

"Eat while it’s hot, child," Rose said gently, placing the tray across Emily’s lap.

Rose gave Damien a final warning look. "And you, let the poor girl eat. Interrogations don't fill stomachs."

"Thank you, Mrs Rose," she murmured, the warmth of the food making her mouth water. She picked up the spoon, ignoring his stare as Rose exited the room.

"Don't get comfortable eating my food," he warned, as he watched her take a sip. "The moment you finish that bowl, we resume."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Emily shot back rolling her eyes, talking through a mouthful."Ih wouldn' wanna keep a dic-tay-tor waitin'."

Damien went still. His eyes dropped to her plate. Then to the way she shoved another spoonful in before she’d even swallowed. His jaw tightened, He was pissed at whoever made her eat like she had to fight for her next meal.

He looked back at her, his voice was quieter. "Slow down, the food goes nowhere."

Before any of them could say anything the door burst open.

"Damien! Tell your lobby security team to stop blocking my private elevator, I—"

A younger man walked into the room. He possessed the same striking jawline and dark hair as Damien, but his posture was loose, his leather jacket open, and his aura lacked Damien’s nature.

Adrian Reines froze mid-sentence, his gaze darting from Damien to Emily, who was sitting in bed wearing his oversized silk shirt. An amused smirk spread across his face. "Well, well. Am I interrupting something?" He whistled. "You finally kidnapped a woman?"

"Get out, Adrian," Damien growled, not even turning around. "I'm in the middle of a security assessment."

"Right, a 'security assessment,'" Adrian mocked , stepping closer to the bed. But as his eyes locked onto Emily’s face, his playful grin faltered. He blinked, his brow furrowing as he scanned her features. "Wait a minute... hold on. Turn toward me."

Emily’s breath hitched as she gulped down. She dropped the glass of milk, pulling the duvet higher up her chest to block his view. "Please leave. I don't know you."

"Damien, look at her," Adrian whispered, "I know that face. She was at the Reines Group charity gala in LA six months ago." His jaw pressed into a thin line. "What's Uncle's wife doing in your bed?"

Damien went still.

Which was somehow worse.

Adrian knew that look.

It was the same look Damien wore whenever Victor's name came up. "What did you just say?"

"That's Victor Reines wife. She was standing right next to him when he announced the restructuring."

Right at that exact second, as if triggered by a single wire, both phones vibrated with messages.

Adrian looked down at his screen, the color completely draining from his face. "Fuck. Damien, look at the media campaign."

Damien snatched his phone, his eyes scanning the headline:

SCANDAL: Billionaire Victor Reines Launches Search for Runaway Wife; Accuses Her of Grand Theft and Stolen Corporate Data.

Beneath the headline was a high-resolution photograph of Emily. She was wearing a diamond necklace, looking elegant in an emerald gown.

Victor Reines.

The man Damien believed had murdered his parents.

He took a step toward the bed.

Emily immediately shifted back.

"You're not a nobody," he whispered, his voice sending a shiver down Emily's spine. "You're Victor Reines wife." His gaze dropped to her hand clutching her stomach. "And you're pregnant." He raised his hand toward her face. Then stopped himself.

Emily shifted back against the headboard, her heart hammering against her ribs as she looked into the eyes of her husband's fiercest enemy. She had escaped one monster, only to wake up in the home of the one man Victor Reines hated most. And judging by the look in Damien's eyes...

He wasn't letting her leave either.