I could lie to him. He’d never know the difference. Still, the part of me that had been carrying this secret for far too long needed to let it out. And he was a perfect stranger, so the chances were slim to none that I’d see him again after I left Albania.
Hell, I might never see him after today.
“It’s going to sound crazy,” I said, shaking my head.
“I’ve heard my share of crazy,” he replied. Something in his tone made me believe him.
“I was in an accident with my boyfriend last October. Gosh, I can’t believe it was only nine months ago,” I began, my chest tightening as the memories pressed in. “My late boyfriend,” I corrected as I pinched the bridge of my nose, steadying myself. “Everyone thinks it was just a road accident… that he somehow went over the bridge and into the river. But he was murdered.”
I glanced at him through my lashes. His face gave nothing away, an impenetrable mask firmly in place.
“And whoever murdered him is after you?” he asked.
I took a long, drawn-out drink, then set the glass carefully on the white tablecloth.
“That’s two questions, Kian. You’ll have to wait your turn to ask that,” I said, echoing his earlier words, even as my voice wavered.
“After you, then,” he acknowledged.
I debated pressing him on his import-export business, but I’d never been business savvy, so I decided to go a different route.
“Are you married?” I asked, silently hoping the answer was no. His hands were bare—no wedding ring—but that meant very little these days. “You were with a woman last time I saw you, and it crossed my mind that I might’ve kissed a married man…” I trailed off, unable to find words strong enough to express how unforgivable it would be—to me and to him—if that were the case and he kissed me back.
“No,” he said. “I’m not married, and that woman was just visiting.”
“Good,” I murmured.
He didn’t waste any time asking his next question.
“Who killed your late boyfriend?” I chewed my lip, my pulse stuttering with shame, remembering how Sienna had paid for my mistakes. “The truth, Sophie,” he grunted, almost as if he were reading my thoughts.
“They hurt Sienna,” I blurted, tears burning my eyes. “After Jonathan’s death, I kept nagging and asking questions. I was warned, and I didn’t listen. So they kidnapped her. It should’ve been me. I wish they’d come after me, but instead they kidnapped Sienna, and she?—”
My voice cracked. The words jammed in my throat, the weight of them stealing my breath before I could finish.
“Who?” he demanded.
“His ex-wife and her goonies.”
Kian adjusted his cuffs, eyes focused on his task, but something dark coiled around him like a fog. My stomach turned cold, and for a flicker of a second, I wondered if I’d made a mistake trusting a perfect stranger who had all but admitted he was dangerous.
Chapter 14
Kian
Ex-wife and her goonies. They kidnapped Sienna.
Her words weren’t making any sense, and they didn’t line up with what I knew. Either she was confused or something far worse had happened that Kristoff wasn’t even aware of.
I drew a slow breath, giving her a moment to steady herself.
“When did they kidnap her?” I asked, my tone deceptively calm. I leaned back slightly, fingers steepled. “Where did they take her, and what did they do to her?”
Sophie’s palm drifted over the tablecloth, slow and absent, as if she were grounding herself in the texture while the fabric rustled beneath her touch.
“She’s safe now,” she said at last, her voice measured. She chewed the inside of her cheek, a nervous habit she didn’t bother hiding. “It’s… complicated.”
“I’ll try to keep up,” I said.
