Entwined Fates: Shades of Trust

By Cristiane Serruya

Even with his traumatic past, Ethan built his walls and made a successful man of himself. 

His present is a void, but all the world needs to know is that he's a powerful steel tycoon who has it all. 

An unpredictable snowstorm changes everything. She’s stranded in Heathrow airport and he gives her a ride in his G650. 

She’s all he ever wanted: a passionate, loving, beautiful woman. She gives him what he never had: love. She will be his forever. 

One year ago, on Alistair daughter’s grave, he promised he would never bend to a woman’s will again.

Since then his days are filled with millionaire contracts and his nights are filled with sex. One new woman each night—sometimes two—to indulge his need for control and punishment. But when he meets her in a business meeting, in his f*cking bank, she confronts him, runs him over, and leaves him horny as f*ck.

She’s gorgeous, sexy, and has a strong will. One he will bend. 

Once upon a time, Sophia had everything a woman could have ever wished for: a perfect marriage, a successful career, and a precious baby daughter. Until monsters killed her husband. To protect her daughter, she fled to London, where she lives torn between the love for a dead man and her desire to move on. 

So, when Ethan, in all his powerful tycoon confidence and charm, insists on a relationship, she gives it a chance. But when she meets Alistair and gazes into his blazing green eyes, her world spins around.

Now, she doesn’t know what to do. Or whom to choose.

A billionaire romance with a heart-wrenching love triangle, Entwined Fates by USA TODAY bestselling author Cristiane Serruya weaves a complicated, suspenseful plot that’s so shocking, you won’t see the ending coming.

Sexy, seductive, and with a hint of BDSM, it’ll delight fans of Fifty Shades of Grey and authors Helen Hardt, Jill Shalvis, Barbara Freethy. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Between the Pages
• Release date: Nov 15, 2012

Book preview

resist…)

Prologue

United Kingdom

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

A few minutes after midnight

London, Eaton Square

Sophia felt the evil approach her. Her head tossed on the pillow and her hands gripped the sheets. She knew there was no escaping the men.

No…

No.

NO!

A great pain tore through her heart, making her whole body convulse. She awoke from her own screams, her right hand gripping her scarred left arm, long nails digging in as the nightmare faded away, leaving nothing but a void in her mind.

She fumbled for her table lamp. Light flooded the room gleaming on her square diamond ring and wedding band.

She exhaled slowly and sat on the bed. She dropped her forehead to her knees, which she drew to her chest, hugging herself.

Why?

Sitting back again, she picked up from the bedside table a frame with the photo of a tall, blond, smiling man, her late husband, and fat tears fell from her eyes.

Why can’t I remember?

London, Park Lane

Ethan sat on the bed, resting his back against the headboard and pillows as he raked a hand through his sun-kissed brown hair.

The woman lying beside him on the bed sighed with pleasure and curled up against his strong thigh.

He studied the gorgeous brunette clinging to him and grimaced, disgusted with himself for having to pay for his sexual pleasures.

Why does she keep haunting me?

Why can’t I feel anything for a woman?

Why can’t I let myself be loved?

Scotland, Northern Highlands

The whip lashed across the woman’s back and she screamed.

A dark smile spread over Alistair’s rugged features. His arm descended again and again and again, raising red, angry welts on the woman’s skin.

The sound of leather against skin, feminine screams, and heavy masculine breathing filled the room.

He threw the whip away, turned the woman on the bed, and thrust into her as he tore the blindfold away.

Blue eyes stared adoringly at him. And the memory of another face masked the one in front of him. The face of a dead woman who had robbed him of what he had considered most precious.

Rot in hell.

An incredible anger surged through him and he grabbed her long blonde hair in his hands, yanking her head back.

One more whore.

One more to torment me.

Is this what I really want?

Chapter 1

London, Heathrow Airport

Thursday, October 15, 2009

7:00 a.m.

---

I’m so sorry, madam. Your flight to Switzerland has been cancelled. There is a red flag for a snowstorm that will hit London full force in a few hours.

Then transfer me to an earlier flight. For God’s sake, we’re at Heathrow!

You don’t seem to understand. All earlier flights are full. I can reimburse you or re-emit your ticket for another day.

Listen, I have to go to Geneva or somewhere near it, today, Sophia said. It’s urgent.

I’m sorry, there is nothing I can do. The attendant turned to answer another passenger’s complaint.

Ethan halted mid-stride and scanned the beautiful woman standing at the airline counter. A wicked smile formed on his lips. Elbowing his friend and lawyer, Leonard, he whispered, My lucky day, Allenthorp.

What? Leonard stopped.

I’m going to offer a ride to that damsel in distress. Ethan discreetly pointed with his thumb at the young five-foot-six woman on his right. See the sexy one over there, with long black hair?

Oh, come on, Ashford. We’re heading to one of your most important meetings and all you can think about is screwing a woman? Leonard scowled.

Allenthorp, I have to give you some lessons on mixing business and pleasure. He stalked up to the woman.

Excuse me. I couldn’t help listening to your conversation with the attendant. I’m heading to Geneva. If you want a ride, I can help you solve your problem.

Sophia half turned at the sound of the voice and was rewarded with the view of a large chest and broad shoulders immaculately dressed in a tailored dark blue suit, crisp white shirt, and blood-red tie.

She craned her neck and mesmerizing eyes of startling Mediterranean-sea blue were staring at her. A white, perfect smile slashed his tanned, bearded features. His light brown sun-kissed hair was neatly cut and combed back.

Such eyes. Pardon? she said.

I apologize. I am Ethan, Ethan Ashford. Nice to meet you, Miss… A wolfish smile curled his lips.

Oh, damn. Ashford Steel Industries. "Mrs. Santo. Mrs. Sophia Santo," she answered, eyeing Ethan with clear distrust.

So, Sophia. Her name left his lips as a caress. Care to accept my offer?

A ride? The offer astonished her. Why? What do you want? She stepped backward and bumped into someone. She heard a loud bang as two hands grasped her arms, steadying her.

She spun on her heels and saw another man, a little older, shorter, and leaner than the first but no less interesting. He had an easy smile, kind blue eyes, and dark blond hair, graying at the temples. Leonard Allenthorp, ‘The Lawyer Duke’. A chill ran through Sophia’s spine as she leaned against the counter flanked by the two men in front of her. I’m sorry. Has Alberto discovered me?

Leonard bent down and picked up his briefcase. He stretched out his hand in a friendly way, saying, It’s okay. Leonard Allenthorp. How do you do? What my friend said is that we’re heading to Geneva in ten minutes, in a private jet, and if you’re interested, we’ve got space for you. A free ride.

Sophia took a deep breath, gathering courage. As she was well aware, everything in life had a price but she needed to get to Geneva today. She shook the outstretched hand, smiling a little, trying to relax. Thanks. I accept.

It will be my pleasure, Ethan’s baritone voice purred from behind her.

Shall we go? Leonard made a small gesture with his hand. We don’t want to meet the snowstorm in midair.

She put her Chanel bag on her shoulder and caught the handle of her carry-on.

Do you want help with your luggage? Ethan offered.

No, thank you, I’m fine. She watched Ethan surreptitiously as she walked between the men. He had the inborn firmness of those who know how to achieve things in life. His clothes were perfectly tailored to show off his strong body; it was clear he was a man who demanded perfection, even from himself.

On her other side, Leonard kept pace. Almost as tall as Ethan, Sophia knew he was about to turn thirty-five. She’d just read an article about him in the Sunday Magazine. His clothes were also expensive; however, he wore them in an effortless way.

At passport control, Ethan quirked an eyebrow at Sophia when she didn’t follow them and eyed her Portuguese passport with interest when she tucked it back in her bag and motioned, This way, Sophia.

They went through an empty corridor. Downstairs and outside the building was a new silver-and-black Gulfstream G650. Next to the carpet on the tarmac by the stairs, the captain waited to welcome them.

At the top of the stairs, a flight attendant smiled and greeted them. She picked-up the overcoats, Sophia’s carry-on and put them away.

Sophia walked past single seats that faced each other, noticing how every detail had been chosen with care. Halfway down the aisle, there was a four-place mahogany conference table with double seats on each side. She sat on the one next to the window, putting her bag on the aisle seat.

Leonard leveled a look at her and smiled as he noticed the maneuver, seating himself opposite her.

The seats were handcrafted with black leather mixed with white-and-gray hues. The inside of the airplane was very masculine and subtly stylish, which resembled its owner.

Mr. Ashford, may I fix you your drinks?

What are you drinking, Sophia? Ethan politely asked.

Water. Sparkling, thank you, she said.

The same for me, Ashford, Leonard added.

The usual for me, Vanessa. He leaned on the table, two big hands flattened, to look at Sophia. Want a tour before takeoff?

A tour? She eyed him and amused looked at the rear of the aircraft, where a three-seat black divan with silk pillows faced a mahogany credenza topped with a wide-screen plasma TV. What for?

I can show you the cockpit, all the modern technologies at hand, as in a fully functional office, and the stateroom… His eyes flashed as he tried to persuade her in a husky voice.

Sophia laughed to hide her embarrassment. No, thank you. I’m good here.

He stared at her for a moment, but said nothing more, easing his six-foot-three stature back in the seat beside Leonard.

The flight attendant served the water and a tomato juice for Ethan, put some mixed nuts and canapés on the table between them, then vanished from the cabin.

The captain announced takeoff his voice smooth and elegant.

Portuguese, aren’t you? Ethan said.

She laughed, shaking her head.

No? He looked puzzled. But your passport…

So? She shrugged, and saw that Leonard was paying attention to the conversation. Let’s see if you can guess where I’m from, one chance each.

Three each, Ethan argued.

Uh-uh. One.

Two, countered Leonard.

Hmm, she mused. The odds might turn against me.

What’s the prize? Ethan asked hoarsely. A dinner with the winner?

No winner. Let’s settle for lunch, us three. Deal?

Deal.

Let’s see… Leonard said. Not Portuguese. Although with a Portuguese passport. With clear Latin heritage. Based on your looks I’d say you’re…Italian. But it makes no sense…

Good. Very good. But, no! And you can’t take it back. She turned to Ethan, waiting. A hint. My passport has nothing to do with where I was born.

Not Portuguese, not Italian. Very black hair, light skin, hazel almond eyes. He narrowed his eyes and grinned at her, Curvaceous, sexy. Hmm…I dare say Spanish.

Why, thank you. She smiled amused. But far from it, Mr. Ashford.

It’s Ethan. Drop the Mr. Ashford. Please.

Told you that you wouldn’t guess. She smiled. One more chance each. Think carefully before you answer. Sophia. You don’t want them to discover where you’re from. Stop this childish nonsense.

Leonard stared at her, assessing her face. Not Portuguese, Italian, or Spanish. I’d bet that you’re not from the Nordic countries and not American, for sure. He paused. Observed her again and whispered to himself, No, it can’t be. Skin is too light. Speaks perfect British English, without an accent.

Greek, Ethan guessed as he shook his head.

I’m flattered. Greek women are known for their beauty. But again, no. Sophia’s mouth twitched at the corners. Mr. Allenthorp, you still have one more chance.

Please, just Leonard. He waved his hand distractedly, his eyebrows furrowed, immersed in thought.

Come on, Allenthorp, Ethan coached.

His blond eyebrows drew even closer. He wasn’t really sure, but he went for it any way. Brazilian. Rio de Janeiro or São Paulo.

Did…did he recognize me? Why, yes. Exactly. Rio. How did you guess?

"My dear, in my profession we have to be very attentive to detail. You hinted I made a point when I alleged Italian. You have a Portuguese passport. I started putting the pieces together. Where are there lots of Portuguese and Italian descendants? South America. Brazil. You do look like a Carioca that has been out of the sun for a long time. Except you dress like a Paulista."

Impressive, Leonard, she murmured, suppressing a sigh of relief. Have you been to Brazil before?

Well, I’ve been there three times. He smiled at her. First to Rio on my honeymoon and twice later to São Paulo for work. Why do you have a Portuguese passport?

Two of my grandparents are Portuguese and they’ve lived in Brazil since they were children. I also have Italian heritage somewhere on both my parents’ lines.

Your husband is also Brazilian? Leonard asked.

Instinctively, Sophia’s right hand grabbed her upper left arm. I’m not married. Not anymore. She managed a weak smile. I’m a widow.

Leonard gazed at her with sympathy in his eyes. I’m sorry, Sophia, you wear a wedding band, and you look too young to be a widow.

She gave a strangled laugh. Death doesn’t ask your age when it decides to strike. As far as my ring is concerned, it helps keep men at bay.

He studied her for a few seconds then returning his attention to his work, he said, Maybe.

So, Sophia, you live in Brazil?

Grateful for the change in the conversation, she replied, No, Mr. Ashford, I live in London.

"We’ve returned to the Mr. Ashford thing, have we?

Sorry. Ethan, she acquiesced.

And where do you study?

Sophia laughed.

Ethan frowned at her. What’s so funny?

I’m not a student anymore. Well, not an undergraduate student. She jutted her chin at Leonard. "I’m The Lawyer Duke colleague."

Again, Leonard’s head came up. I think you’ve turned the tables, I’m at a disadvantage now.

She looked at him mischievously. You see, Leonard, we have crossed paths in court.

Impossible. I would have remembered you.

Oh, she mocked. Should I thank you for this remark?

Of course. You’re a beautiful woman.

Now, I’m offended. She rolled her eyes heavenward. I prefer to be remembered by my intelligence and wit.

Sorry, Sophia. He laughed, shuffled his documents together, putting them away and closing the table with the touch of a button and rearranged himself in his seat, crossing his legs. So, pray tell, where have you been spying on me?

Spying? You don’t necessarily hide yourself. As I do. Besides, you’re a well-known lawyer. Your summations gather quite a crowd at court. And, well… She grinned again. I have taken my best students twice this year to make a study of your cases.

I’m flattered, Leonard answered.

Oh, no, Ethan said sardonically. A lawyer and a lecturer. Not possible, you don’t look older than…hmm, nineteen.

She just smiled.

Oh, come on. It’s not polite to ask a woman her age, but how old are you?

Twenty-five.

Still very young. Where do you lecture?

Cambridge University.

The men looked flabbergasted.

At Cambridge… Leonard muttered. What do you teach?

I’m just a temporary lecturer in criminal law. I did pro bono work for women in Brazil and I’m also involved in it here, she said, dismissing her accomplishment, but getting excited with the topic. When I was an undergraduate, I helped with the creation of a law to protect women from domestic violence. After that, I dedicated myself to work with disadvantaged women. They still have a very hard time living with so many expectations… She trailed off. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bore you.

No, Leonard interjected. Not at all. It is a very interesting subject.

When you speak of women you don’t include yourself, Ethan remarked. Why?

I’m privileged. I really don’t have any major problems, She smiled and waved her hand minimizing her difficulties. Change the subject. Don’t discuss yourself. But pro bono doesn’t pay the bills, does it, Leonard?

He laughed. No. What is your specialty?

Oil. Mergers and acquisitions, finance, corporate governance, you know…this pays the bills. Stop, Sophia. You’re giving too many hints. But I can’t let go of the pro bono work. It’s an obsession. So I volunteered as a helper. Okay, it’s not entirely a lie. My foundation is kind of pro bono.

And you do pro bono in family law too? Leonard asked.

No. I abhor family law.

Why?

Her face hardened and, with the memories still fresh in her mind, her voice turned icy, As a rule, people tend to forget the most important things in life when money, power, and lust are involved.

Leonard tilted his head. What do you consider the most important things in life?

Love, friendship, and family. She looked away. Respect.

Beautiful words, Leonard murmured.

People with morals and principles don’t fight over peanuts and use children as cannon fodder. What I’ve seen at these kinds of proceedings makes me want to vomit.

This is real life. Few have those scruples, Ethan said cynically.

Have you been married or have children? she asked him.

I don’t need to. I know what life and people are made of.

Well, it seems that I have been luckier than you. My marriage was very, very happy. Until they killed my husband. As were the marriages of my family.

You’re a dreamer, Sophia, Ethan retorted.

She examined her manicured long dark blood-red nails and smiled. Maybe I am a dreamer. But if one stops believing in dreams, life loses its meaning, loses its colors.

Discreetly, Ethan appraised Sophia, admiring her beautiful body which her turquoise-and-white Chanel suit didn’t conceal, and the enticing cleavage the light-green silk shirt showed. She will be mine. Where are you staying in Geneva?

At a hotel. She licked her lips nervously.

Ethan shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. And this hotel has a name?

You’re very curious, aren’t you, Ethan? She forced a smile.

Quite. Does it have a name or not?

"C’est le Domaine de Châteauvieux, un très petite hôtel au coeur— She shook her head. I’m sorry, it’s—"

I speak French perfectly. Ethan released a low chuckle.

I understood you.

"I bet. But I hate when I mix languages."

It happens, Ethan set aside her fault.

How many languages do you speak? Leonard asked her.

A few. Portuguese, English, and French are my native languages. I learned a few others as well.

You’re a great asset. Raising an eyebrow, Leonard asked, Interested in a partnership?

Your offer is an honor, but I already work with a lawyer. She winked at Leonard.

Where do you work? Leonard asked.

I work with Professor Holbrook.

From Holbrook and Barton? Leonard asked.

Ah… Yes. Sophia looked nervous as she answered.

Where did Holbrook find you? Leonard wondered. He’s a friend. We have a kind of partnership. How long have you been working there?

Let’s say I found him, she answered cryptically.

You came to see a client in Geneva? Ethan asked.

No.

Are you here on business? he reiterated.

Yes. But I don’t usually talk about business except with the client, Ethan, Sophia replied.

Can’t or won’t? Ethan insisted.

Ashford, you know we must follow some rules, Leonard intervened.

Oh, Allenthorp, sometimes you’re too boring, Ethan huffed. You like to keep things in the dark, don’t you, Sophia? Mysterious, sexy woman.

Sophia drank her water, then licked her lips, taking her time to think of an answer, totally unaware of the effect she had on the man in front of her.

Ethan felt the blood run hotter in his veins and he gripped the arm of his seat harder.

Sophia played with a lock of her hair, twisting it around her finger and curled up her lips slightly. Things are more exciting when one unveils them bit by bit. One loses interest fast, when they’re too easy.

The flight hadn’t been as bad as they expected and they landed at Geneva International Airport fifty minutes after takeoff. They hurried inside the building, laughing, all composure lost in the frosty air. The temperature had dropped to below zero and the snow was already falling.

So, can I give you a ride back to London? Ethan asked. I’m leaving tomorrow at three o’clock, possibly four, if that’s okay for you.

No, thank you, don’t worry.

You didn’t like my company, he teased.

I didn’t say that, Ethan. She grinned at him. I’m not flying back tomorrow. I have many important things to do. They’ll take time.

Are you going to spend the weekend here? He found her even more beautiful with her cheeks rosy from the cold. When are you returning? I can wait for you.

No, thanks, she said firmly but with a charming smile. I don’t want to be a burden. She pushed the sleeve of her suit up to look at her watch. I have to go.

Ethan’s hand gently held her left wrist. I like your watch. The Santos 100 Skeleton is quite a masterpiece. He turned her arm from right to left. It’s not common to see a woman wearing this kind of watch.

And what is the kind of watch a woman should wear? she asked, teasing.

He smiled. "It’s just that this watch is too masculine, too large for your delicate wrist."

Well, I normally wear masculine watches. She extricated her wrist from his grip.

He stared at her. You’re a bold woman, aren’t you?

Sophia smiled and said, It was a pleasure to meet you, Ethan. Thank you very much for the pleasant flight. She took a card out of her wallet, but put it back and searched for a different one.

Leonard stifled a chuckle. She was dismissing Ethan.

Here. Sophia handed a card to each man and tucked theirs into her wallet. Leonard, it was an honor. Call me next week to collect your lunch. You pick the place. Take care. She turned and walked away.

Ethan stood there, staring at the gentle sway of Sophia’s hips, thinking of the many ways he wanted to have her, of the many places: in the plane, at his office, in his bed. He shifted from one foot to another, trying to ease the discomfort between his legs.

The flight had been torture. Sitting in front of her, taking her sweet scent wafting from her, wanting to touch, to feel, to taste and not being able to. Jesus. She’s intelligent, bright, and lovely; I have to give in, she’s not like the others. And most of all, she has fire. I’m sure. It’s just unlit or smothered. But then, I’ve always loved playing with fire.

Allenthorp, Ethan muttered, slowly shaking his head, trying to dispel the fog of desire clouding his brain.

Yes? Leonard answered, noticing the resolute way the woman marched through the corridors of Geneva Airport. He looked again at the card and murmured to himself, Strange. The contact is not from Holbrook & Taylor.

She will return with me. I will see to it, Ethan decided.

Wanna bet? A thousand pounds says she won’t, Leonard said, amused.

Done, Ethan replied, punching his friend’s arm lightly. Prepare the check.

Ethan’s laughter rang in the air of Geneva Airport and heads turned to look at the stunning pair of businessmen, one dark and one fair.

Yes, I love playing with fire.

Chapter 2

Switzerland, Geneva

Outside Geneva International Airport

8:17 a.m.

---

What a lucky stroke of fate that I met Ethan Ashford. Sophia walked toward the driver she usually had at her disposal in Geneva. She gave him a bright smile. "Monsieur Didier, bonjour. How are you?"

Madame Leibowitz, good morning. It’s a pleasure to see you again. The middle-aged man smiled back. Let me help you.

He picked up her carry-on and headed to the parking lot toward a black Mercedes S600 Pullman Guard.

Sitting behind the steering wheel, he asked. Where to, madam?

Well, I’m early for my meeting, so I thought I’d check in first, monsieur. Do you know if my sister and brother have arrived?

"Oui. Mademoiselle Valentina et Monsieur Santo arrived yesterday evening. I picked them up myself at the airport."

Great, she said, then called her brother’s cell phone.

Hi, Sis. Felipe’s mellifluous voice came through to her over the speaker.

Felipe. Sophia felt tears well up in her eyes when she heard his voice. I’ve just arrived. How are you and Valentina? Why didn’t you call me yesterday? Why didn’t Carol come? Do you like the hotel? Have you already seen the floor plans? And the photos?

As always, so many questions. He laughed. "Yes, we love the hotel. We’ve seen the floor plans—they’re sensational. We have seen the photos, and they’re disgusting. However, Valentina and I are sure we can fix and restore every inch that was redecorated. Carolina was…otherwise occupied. We didn’t call you because we arrived late and we were quite tired and jet lagged."

Sorry, but it’s just that I’m so excited to see you again that I forgot.

I think you’re excited to buy your new house, he teased, chuckling.

Felipe! She heard Valentina laughing in the background. Tell Val that after I sign the deed, we’re going skiing for a couple of hours. Be ready. I’ll be there in a few minutes.

It seemed like it had been eons since they’d done something together like this. Her family lived scattered around the world now.

Sophia relaxed against the comfortable seat, enjoying the view.

Geneva was one of her favorite places. Its atmosphere, its bustling streets, and many shaded squares invited her to stroll.

She loved the contrasts of the city, the way it stood unchanged next to the lake, the familiar waterjet spouting the beautiful column of water and the possibility of seeing Mont Blanc on a clear day.

I still remember clearly the first time I visited here.

It had been a month after her parents’ death, when her grandparents sent her and her younger sister, Carolina, to a boarding school in Lausanne for a year. She’d hated the city at that time, now she understood it’d been the best thing her grandparents could have done for them.

After the brief ride, Sophia exited the car at the old vineyard farmhouse that had been transformed into an elegant hotel.

The youngest of her gorgeous twin sisters ran outside to embrace her.

No one would guess Valentina and Sophia were sisters. Sophia was dark-haired and of average height, whereas Valentina was blonde, blue eyed, slender and petite; an exact copy of their mother.

Sophia! How are you? Valentina kissed her and stood back to look at her. You’re looking much better. You looked like a hag last time in Rome.

Great to know your thoughts, sister dear.

Sorry, darling. Valentina smiled and shrugged. What can I do if the truth hurts?

Sophia rolled her eyes at her sister and pulled her inside the hotel. Felipe told me that you liked the floor plans and that you think you can repair the house.

Yes, she beamed. I’m going to love working on this project, Sophia. I have to show you our first ideas.

Where is Felipe?

In your suite. It has a big dining table. We have been working there since yesterday evening.

Sophia stopped Valentina with a hand on her arm and asked seriously, How is he?

Valentina frowned. He doesn’t speak of her anymore, Sophia, but he is tortured, haunted. You, better than anyone, know how it feels to lose someone you love.

He still blames himself?

Valentina scrutinized Sophia’s face. And you, didn’t you?

It’s different. They confessed that it was me they wanted. Gabriel died because of me. She blinked to whisk away the tears gathering in her eyes and sighed, despondent. There was no way Felipe could have prevented her death. The truck hit on her side of the car. The guy fell asleep at the wheel. He wasn’t guilty, Val.

I know, I know. Valentina shrugged. "But he doesn’t. Her photos are still all over the flat. Worse, Renata’s family calls him all the time. She shook her head. I guess it’s hard to overcome something when it keeps turning up."

Even if it doesn’t. Sophia lowered her head. Believe me.

At her suite door, Sophia paused, using the moment to observe Felipe, who was absorbed in making notes on the floorplans spread over the dining table.

He could have been her twin if not for the age difference of exactly six years and the big shock of white hair that marred his silky, raven hair.

Sophia remembered how shaken she’d been when that lock appeared after the car crash. The accident also left a thin scar on the left side of his forehead, starting at the side hairline and slashing down to his eyebrow, giving his too handsome face the appearance of a pirate.

When younger and single, he had his fair share of women. They used to fall at his feet. As a widower now, they still did, but he wasn’t as interested anymore.

When she stepped in the room, he glanced up from the plans. He stood and opened his arms.

Sophia threw herself into them, hugging him tightly.

How are you, Sis?

Filled with emotion, Sophia could only nod. He was her favorite sibling, her closest friend. Nothing seemed to unsettle him, but Sophia knew better. He’d learned to disguise his emotions very well since their parents died. After Renata died, he donned a mask and only took it off occasionally, with Sophia.

Hey, everything okay? He gazed down at her, worried.

With one final hug, she let him go. I miss you so much.

Let me look at you. Felipe assessed Sophia, his thumbs drying away her tears. Hmm…much better!

Told you so! Valentina exclaimed from behind her.

Yes, I look better on the outside. Sophia rolled her eyes and tried to turn the issue away from her. Gabriela sends you kisses and hugs.

Felipe, as always, read her thoughts. How have you been doing? The truth, please.

She shrugged and stepped away. Better, I think. It helps to be away from Rio. Out of sight, out of mind, you know?

Indeed. The pain that shadowed his life flickered briefly on his face.

And you? She cleared her throat. "How are you?"

I’m fine. Working a lot, he replied. We’ve hired a law firm. The business is really becoming too big for just a small legal department.

If another person was in the room, even one of their sisters or grandmother, he never spoke about his feelings. Knowing she wasn’t going to receive the answer she wanted, Sophia turned to the floor plans.

That’s good. I’m glad to hear it. So, do you think the house is a good bargain? How long will all the work take? What’s the estimate?

My God, Sophia, slow down, Valentina said. I don’t know why you’re constantly in such a hurry. These things take time.

Life is too short to waste time, my dear. One day, you will learn that. You’re too young to understand.

Too young? Sophia, I’m almost seventeen years old.

An old, old woman, Felipe teased.

Maybe I’m the one who’s too old. Sophia sighed.

Hey! I only want to see smiles this weekend, Felipe ordered.

Stop whining, Sophia. She gave him a bright smile. Aye, sir.

The Grand Hotel Kempinski Geneva

In a meeting room

12:54 p.m.

---

Sophia’s image haunted Ethan as he daydreamed. Mmm, her mouth is a delicious shade of red. Her hair falls sinfully over her breasts. I bet they would fill my hands…

Mr. Ashford, don’t you agree that this new turn of events in the Afghanistan War demands a postponement of three or four months to start our first payment? the head of the Arab team at the end of the table put forth. We know that your shipment will arrive on time. We don’t know if we will manufacture, contact, and distribute our products in the expected time, so you see, we need to delay our first payment.

Oh, yes—

Excuse me, gentlemen, Leonard interrupted Ethan. I need a moment with my client. Mr. Ashford, if you will follow me?

When he closed the door of the smaller room, Leonard hissed, What’s gotten into you today, Ashford? Goddamn it! I have been conducting this fucking meeting for at least two hours, all on my own.

I’m sorry, Allenthorp. My mind was elsewhere. Ethan grimaced.

It’s the woman, isn’t it? Yes, she’s quite distracting. A small frown crossed Leonard’s face. We cannot afford distractions here. Now, you know how these guys are about to pledge honor and blah, blah, blah. How many months are you willing to give them?

Give them ten days. Of course, they’ll bargain for more. I cannot give them more than a month. I’m sure they’ll be satisfied with that.

I’m willing to bet your absentmindedness is going to extend the meeting for at least twenty-four hours. He put his hand on the doorknob, but didn’t turn it. Forget her for a few hours. I will not be held responsible for any new problem. Let’s get on with this.

On the Quai General Guisan

1:37 p.m.

---

Sophia shook Mr. Brenton’s hand outside the bank. It was a pleasure doing business with you, sir.

My pleasure, young lady. And please, if you meet Juliette… He looked down a second. Don’t mention how and where we finished our transaction. She only knows about the first part of the payment you made in London. And we are signing the divorce tomorrow, so…

Don’t worry. Take care, Mr. Brenton.

You too, my dear. I wish you happiness in your new house.

Sophia stood there watching as the old man entered his car, snowflakes falling delicately on her gray felt hat. When the car turned the corner, Sophia turned to Felipe and exclaimed, I did it!

Congratulations. Now you had better take me to a restaurant. I’m starving.

"Don’t worry. I’ve made reservations for us at l’Auberge du Lion d’Or and asked for a special Krug champagne."

Mmm! Felipe, prepare yourself. Sophia has chosen well, Valentina said from behind them.

Sophia turned and hugged her sister, too happy to care if she was making a scene.

It was time to stop hiding and starting living her life.

Or build a new one.

No one else could do it for her.

Chapter 3

Geneva International Airport

Saturday, October 17, 2009

6:00 p.m.

---

I don’t believe it. I don’t. Sophia shook her head, baffled. "I received a message and a phone call from your company saying our flight had been changed to eight o’clock this evening due to the weather."

"Je suis desolée. Your flight has already departed."

You’re sorry, my ass, Valentina murmured in Portuguese from behind her.

Sophia fished her iPhone from her bag and showed the attendant the message. Then transfer me to another.

You owe me a thousand pounds, Allenthorp. Ethan watched the scene from a seat a few feet away.

No, I don’t. Our bet didn’t include you cheating and arranging to send fake messages from the airline company. Sometimes, I don’t know how you can live with yourself, Ashford.

"I can see