Cristiane Serruya - Trust: Betrayed

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.”

That’s what you think. “I see,” he traced the ring on her finger. “Friends, then?” I’ll indulge you, Sophia. For now.

“Friends,” she answered, lifting from the reclining chair and taking out her iPhone from her purse to call her driver. “I must go. I have a full day tomorrow.”

“I’ll walk you downstairs,” he said picking up the door card from the side table. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his navy trousers to avoid snatching her in a hard kiss. “When are you returning to London?”

“I don’t know. I’ haven’t decided yet. And you?”

I don’t know. “I’m returning to São Paulo tomorrow morning and I’ll be back in the evening. Do you have plans for the weekend?”

The elevator doors opened.

I have but I’m not telling you. “I’ll probably stay with my grandmother. I haven’t seen her since New Year’s.”

Ethan nodded. He splayed his hand possessively around her hip when he noticed male heads turning to look covetingly at her and enviously at him, when they walked past the hotel’s exclusive night club and along the white linen curtained corridor toward the hotel entrance. We make a perfect pair.

He accompanied her to her black Mercedes 600 Pullman Guard. Zareb was holding the door open for her, scanning the perimeter with hawk eyes.

Ethan kissed her on the cheek and stayed there watching her pull out, examining his thoughts.

From their first time together, he’d known Sophia would be his ruination.

After all the changes she had evoked in him, he barely recognized himself sometimes.

To get her back, he would do anything.

And he was willing to find out how far he would go.

Alistair MacCraig’s Apartment.

Thursday, April 8^th, 2010.

3.49 a.m.

Alistair tossed and turned in the bed. His depressed musings had been keeping him awake since Tuesday.

Aggravated, he switched on the light and flung his body out of the bed. He walked to his desk in the living room to search for his phone. He turned it on and scrolled for Sophia’s and Gabriela’s photos.

A long time passed while he caressed each photo and thought about what he was going to say to her when they finally met again.

He went back to bed and turned off the lamp on the bedside table. His desolated thoughts got worse in the dark. He exhaled slowly, expelling all the air from his lungs.

Half an hour later, he rose again and walked back to the living room. This time he turned on the TV and started to flip through the channels for something interesting to see. He had to find a diversion.

How is it possible to feel sickness from someone’s absence? He needed her gentle touch, drawing random designs on his chest as she fell asleep. Her soft lips kissing him good night and then good morning. He needed her.

He grabbed his cell phone again and started to text.

4.29 Alistair: Sophia, love. We have to talk. I can explain the things you found in my dressing room. Davidoff showed me what you researched on your computer. I’m not like that, I’m not that extreme. And I don’t need it, I need you. Please, call me.

4.35 Alistair: You’re breaking my heart, Sophia. You promised to take good care of it, remember? Don’t do this to me, please.

4.41 Alistair: I can’t live without you, mo chridhe. Please, call me. I love you.

He grimaced as two green ticks notified him that each of his WhatsApps had been delivered and read, but no response came.

He rose and went to bed, taking the phone with him.

I love you, Sophia. Was Alistair’s last thought before he finally closed his eyes for sleep.

Dr. Andrew Volk’s Office.

9.41 a.m.

“To feel lonely is to be overwhelmed by an unbearable feeling of separateness, at a very deep level. To some degree, it is a totally normal emotion, a part of growing up. Your loneliness, which has been caused by extraordinary circumstances, is somehow all your own fault. First your loss, then your lack of trust, your fear of entering another relationship and your numbness are the main causes of your feeling lonely,” Dr. Volk patiently waited for Alistair to reply.

“You’re right. I didn’t want to be tied down. I didn’t want anyone in my life again. I was more than lonely. And that’s the way I wished it to be. That’s what I deserved,” Alistair sighed. “Maybe it’s a cliché, but I felt lonely even in a crowd.”