Trust: Betrayed (45 page)

So different from the shaded green cemeteries in the United States and Europe. So... desolate.
She looked at Felipe, with tears in her eyes, utterly lost in her pain, and whispered to him, “I don’t remember where it is.”

“I know.” His grip tightened around her waist.

Felipe would never forget his brother-in-law’s burial.

The raw pain and desperation he had seen in his sister’s eyes when they lowered Gabriel’s coffin made him shiver even now.

Sophia hadn’t screamed or cried. She hadn’t thrown herself over Gabriel’s coffin. She had stoically stood beside Gabriel’s grave, shrouded in black from head to toe. She had looked like a scary wraith, her long hair blowing in the wind and her black veil and dress billowing around her. All hope had left her.

Felipe glanced at the pouring sky, praying he would never again witness such brutal despair.

“Come on, sis. Let’s pay our respects,” he said, picking up two small rocks from a small pile.

Sophia looked back over her shoulder at Gabriel’s grave. The two lonely rocks on the white marble demonstrated that widowed were not those alive, but those who were dead.

The Gonçalves & Espírito Santo Families’ Penthouse.

11.11 a.m.

The warm water of the bath soothed Sophia’s body, but nothing could be done about the ache that resided in her heart. She shook her head and turned to rest her right cheek on her bent knees.

She felt swamped by an awful loneliness.
No Gabriel. And no Alistair Connor. No one. This will be my path. Alone in the world.

After all those years, she was still baffled by her request to Gilberto.

And I thought I was avenging Gabriel. No, I wasn’t thinking at all. That was the problem.
She had got it all wrong. The immorality of her act had festered inside her like a gangrenous wound and turned her into a guilty, walking automaton.

She knew Edward was right. No one could ever prove what she had done.

But Sophia decided that she had to confess and ask for forgiveness. Not only God’s, but from the families of the deceased men.

She hadn’t killed them. She hadn’t started the war, but she felt responsible for their deaths, even though she knew that eventually they would have been killed, just for trespassing on a rival drug lord’s territory.

Resolutely, she finished her bath, got dressed and sat at her desk, listing what she had to do to achieve her goal.

She grabbed the iPhone to talk to Edward. She knew he would try to dissuade her, but she would not give in, not this time.
I will appeal to his common sense.

Her hand hesitated over the screen and she decided to call Dr. Kent first.
Mina will understand and she’ll help me with a strategy to convince Edward.

She dialed her therapist’s phone number and left an urgent message on her voicemail.

Galewick Townhouse.

8.49 p.m.

He gulped down the rest of his whisky and surveyed the women at his sister’s surprise birthday party. He scowled. He was in no mood for parties, but he couldn’t have refused Elena’s invitation. He was going mad pondering over what Tavish had said.
I shouldn’t have been so hasty. She was always telling me to take things slow.

During his brooding, Leonard had been saying something to him. Alistair sighed impatiently and drawled, “I beg your pardon?”

“I said that you look like you’ll start quoting Dante any minute. So, here,” Leonard took the glass of whisky from his hand and gave him a glass of water. “Either you start drinking water or go home. The kids are awake and I don’t want them to see their uncle drunk.”

“Water?” Alistair eyed the glass and snorted. “I’d rather kill myself. I need that bottle of whisky. And by the way, I do not spout quotes when I’m drunk.”

“You do. Even when you’re not drunk,” said Leonard. “In fact, you and Sophia spill quotes whenever possible. Machiavelli, Nietzsche, Dante.”

Just the mention of her name made his heart squeeze painfully in his chest. “Oh, that. Aye. Maybe.”

“Your sister is appalled.” Leonard pushed the glass onto his lips and mocked, “Drink. There. Better.”

Tavish chuckled, “You’ll find another woman, quickly. One you can-”

“I. Don’t. Want. Another woman,” Alistair hissed through clenched teeth, “I want Sophia. Only Sophia will do.”

Leonard watched amazed as Alistair’s gaze surveyed the women in the room with disdain.

“There isn’t a woman that equals her. No one comes even close. She is special.”

“So don’t treat her like you did Heather,” Leonard said, throwing the truth in Alistair’s face.

His face darkened, “You speak out of turn, Leo.”

“Everyone does, but you, right, Alistair? You know, you should be less arrogant and conceited or you really will lose Sophia, forever.”

Alistair sighed deeply and drank the rest of the water. “I think I’d better go home. I don’t want to spoil Alice’s surprise party.”

Rio de Janeiro, Ipanema. Fasano Hotel, Fasano al Mare.

11 p.m.

“Could you bring us our check, please, Marcos,” Sophia asked the restaurant’s maître d’ and grabbed Ethan’s wrist when his hand delved inside his jacket for his wallet. “You are my guest today.”

What? Never.
“Baby, no woman has ever paid a bill when I’m around. It’s not-”

“Let me be the first, then,” she smiled candidly at him.

“You are the first and only, Sophia.” He gave her a crooked smile, entwined his fingers with hers and purred, “I’ll let you do much more than that, darling.”

Sophia laughed, embarrassed. “Ethan, you are incorrigible. I thought we had decided to be just friends.”

The arrival of the maître d’ interrupted them.

Ethan looked around the stylish restaurant designed by Phillipe Starck, with comfortable leather armchairs arranged around Scandinavian wooden tables under splendid Murano chandeliers. The famous Ipanema beach sidewalk could be seen through the glass windows.

The low and polite conversation buzz spoke of money. Wealthy tourists mingled with Carioca’s tycoons and gorgeous, fashionable women.

“Cariocas are beautiful, aren’t they?” Sophia was studying Ethan as he examined the room.

To me, you are the only beautiful one. I have eyes for no one else.
“Yes. Definitely. There’s something different. A certain... healthy air, even in older women.”

“It’s the beach and the weather,” Sophia mused as she put her credit card back in her Valentino black purse. “We walk around almost naked all year round. We have lots of open spaces to practice sports,” she shrugged. “Shall we go?”

Yes. Up to my room.
He shifted in the armchair, sitting more comfortably, and cocked his head, with his azure eyes sparkling. “Do you want to come up to my suite for a night cap?”

Aren’t we insistent today?
Sophia stifled a sigh and picked up her glass, swirling the rest of her wine in it and drinking it, gaining time. “Ethan-”

“I’ll behave. It’s still early. Just stay with me a bit longer,” he bent toward her, holding her right hand in his, squeezing it gently. “I like your company, Sophia.”

This time she sighed outloud. “I like yours too, Ethan. But I- I get the impression that we are not talking about the same thing.”

He raised her hand to his lips and looked at her. When he spoke, his breath caressed her skin. “I won’t lie: I want you. My love hasn’t diminished. But I prefer your friendship to nothing. I won’t jeopardize it. That I promise you.”

Sophia tilted her head to the side and bit her lip, unsure.

“Ah-ah.” He released her hand and cupped her chin, his thumb caressing the lip her teeth just released. “You mustn’t do that. Or I won’t answer for my actions.”

God! Seriously!
“Ethan. Can I be frank?”

His fingers brushed her neck and he gripped her hand again. “Always.”

“When you tell me you still have feelings for me, and I keep accepting your invitations to go out, I- I feel like I’m leading you on. Like I’m an easy woman, a slut-”

His hand flew to her mouth and his eyes darkened, “Don’t ever refer to yourself like that again.”
You’re Sophia, not Eve!

Sophia’s eyes widened at his harsh tone.

“Understood?” He commanded an answer. He needed an answer. “Understood, Sophia?”

She nodded and he took his hand away from her mouth. “I don’t want to hear you say those words again.” He flung his napkin on the table, raised and moved to help her stand. “Come with me. We can continue this upstairs.”

“Ethan-”

“I will not take no for an answer,” he murmured and put a firm hand on her waist, steering her to the lifts.

An awkward silence descended on them as they climbed to his suite and he paused to open his door.

Sophia stepped back from the door he held open for her. “Ethan-”

“Please. I’ll behave.” He stretched his hand and looked at her with serious eyes. “I give you my word.”

“Okay, then.”
Dammit, Sophia. You should know better.
She entered the living room of the suite and her eyes were immediately drawn to the king size bed that had been turned down for the night.

The door clicked shut behind her and she jumped in fright.

“Jesus, Sophia! I am not going to attack you,” Ethan walked stiffly to the white linen curtains that separated the bedroom from the living room and closed them. When he turned to look at her, his face was contorted with a painful expression. “Better now?”

She nodded, tight-lipped. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t feel comfortable in a hotel suite with him, a man she wasn’t dating. Her logic and reason had stayed on the other side of the door.

She swallowed hard, rooted to the ground, her eyes wide. Fear spurred her heartbeat, a physical response to the man who effortlessly took up every inch of the huge living room, the man whom she realized now, she barely knew anymore. She couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t harm her, as he had once before, or put her life in danger. He was six foot three, broad shouldered, fit and well built. What could she do, if he decided to have her?

Ethan approached her slowly, gauging her reaction. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

She tightened her grip on her fragile purse, nodded again and breathed deep, gathering her wits.

He noticed her rib cage expanding under the black leather dress and her breasts pushing on her cleavage. His hands itched to peel the sexy dress off her. Instead he caught her gently by the waist and pulled her closer, against his chest, an arm snaked around her back and a hand on her head.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured on her hair. “You have nothing to fear from me. I only want what’s best for you.”

He kept his hips away from her body concealing his arousal and there was no sexual innuendo in his embrace. Just tenderness. His hand stroked the length of her loose hair, soothing her fears, and he curled his fingers under her chin, lifting her face, “Do you want to go?”

“No.” The word was raspy. Sophia cleared her throat. “No. I think that we have to talk, Ethan. Really.”

Jesus, Sophia!
He saw the determination on her face and knew that nothing good was coming from that
talk
. His arms fell to his side, defeated, and he moved to the Chinese lacquered bar. “Do you want something to drink?” She shook her head. “An espresso, perhaps?”

“Yes, please.”

He prepared two as she walked to the balcony, looking at Ipanema Beach. It had stopped raining. She slid the doors open and sat on the spacious and comfortable reclining chair outside.

He sat beside her, handing her the cup. They drank in silence and when he finished his coffee, he put his cup on the floor. He leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs. His baritone voice was very low when he confessed, “I was devastated when we broke up. It was a rough time, Sophia. Then I decided it’d be easier to let it go. But it wasn’t. It isn’t. It’s awful,” he said vehemently. “And when I saw you at the airport, devastated too, I thought I had another chance. But you love him, don’t you?”

Sophia stood and went to the edge of the balcony, looking at the wonderful view. In one sweeping landscape, she could see all the way from the Dois Irmãos mountains to Arpoador. “You know, Ethan, I miss this city. This beautiful, beautiful city.” She turned to him. “I miss the Carioca happy way of living. My friends. My family. I miss it all. But... It was in this same city that I was robbed of happiness in the most savage way. So, I am not coming back unless for a brief visit, no matter my...
saudades
. No matter how much I miss it.”

He had put his chin on the palm of his hand and was drinking in her expressive face.

“Why am I telling you this? Because, it’s the same with us.” She sat again by his side and put a finger on his lips, when they opened. “Let me finish, please. This,” she motioned from her to him, “us, I mean, has nothing to do with Alistair MacCraig. It belonged to us and it’s going to stay only between us. I like you, Ethan. I do. But as a friend and a business partner. If you can’t understand and respect my decision... I’ll miss you, but this is it. The end.”

I will never let you go. Never.
He closed his eyes so she wouldn’t see the resolve inside them. He said huskily, “You’ve got me, Sophia. The way you wish. Any way.” His hand gripped hers and tightened fractionally. “Can’t you feel that you command my will like I’ve never let anyone else do?”

Sophia sucked in a breath when he fixed her with his gaze.

“Sometimes,” he was watching her face with searing intensity, “I feel that I can hardly breathe without you.” His beautiful azure eyes revealed his inner turmoil. He was struggling with his emotions. “Your life is an asset, Sophia,” he whispered. “Be careful that your decisions don’t make you a liability.”

Are you threatening me?
“You said you wanted what is best for me. I want the same. What is best for you. You need to move on. I’m not coming back to you, Ethan.”