She shook her head, tears already spilling. “You don’t understand. He’ll never stop looking. Not for me. Not for the boy. I just can’t, Kian.”
I closed the distance between us and took her wrist. I felt her flinch and hated myself instantly. But mostly I hated Gio for beating this fear into her and making her so skittish.
“Elena, listen to me. You’re not safe here. He’s going to kill you.”
Her voice broke. “And if I leave, he’ll kill my son.”
Silence swallowed us until a slammed door shook the walls, immediately followed by a man’s laugh that held no joy in it. Only malice.
“Elena—”
“Please leave.” Her eyes were wide with fear, and I knew at that moment, I’d lost her forever. She’d never leave Gio.
“I can’t.”
She touched my face softly, a goodbye disguised as comfort. “You must. Save someone else. It’s too late for me.”
I should’ve taken her away anyway. Dragged her. Forced her out of the house and into the car. Let her hate me as long as it meant that she lived.
But I didn’t. I couldn’t be that cruel to her after she’d suffered so much. I slipped through the back door and left her behind.
I never spoke to her again. Later, I heard she gave birth to a baby girl, and I thought maybe she’d gotten through to Gio and his cruelty, but even I knew it was a foolish thing to hope for.
She died not long after. He’d found a way to kill her after all. I failed to save her, and that guilt never faded away. It was the reason I tried to redeem myself in other ways.
But that damned guilt refused to go away. It remained breathing in my soul.
I shoved the old ghosts into their vault, calming my racing heart. I was no longer the same man I was back then. I was older and more powerful.
My gaze found Sophie fast asleep next to me. Her face was covered by her unruly hair and I tucked a few strands back behind her ear. God,she was too beautiful, her thick lashes brushing high cheekbones and casting shadows across her pale skin.
I could—and would—protect my woman.
The feedback I received from Kington yesterday left me deeply unsettled. He’d tracked down Jacqueline’s entourage, scattered and hiding like rats. Yet, there was no sign of the woman herself—no clues, not even a whisper of where she might have fled. The absence was chilling.
But that wasn’t the worst of it.
That wretched woman had posted a bounty on the dark web—an open reward for Sophie’s capture, torture, and execution.
Kingston hadn’t found Jacqueline yet, but waiting was no longer an option. It was time to pull every string, call in every favor, and unleash every connection at my disposal.
I would flush her out, no matter how well she thought she could hide, and when I did, this would end once and for all.
Chapter 29
Sophie
Forget the Italians or the French. Albanian lovers were the way to go. Or maybe not just any Albanian…Kian Corteswas the way to go.
It had been a week of pure bliss—seven days of late-night conversations that wandered from the profound to the ridiculous, laughter that left my cheeks aching, mind-blowing sex, incredible food, and then more sex for good measure.
I woke up sore but smiling, limbs pleasantly heavy, my body humming with lingering warmth. I’d been waking like this every morning for the past week—happy, relaxed, utterly unguarded.
“I could get used to this,” I said to the empty room, which by now I’d come to expect. The man was a force of nature—always moving, always working—and I was starting to suspect that he survived on caffeine and sheer stubbornness, operating on no more than two hours of sleep a night.
I reached for my phone and the screen lit up with an unread message.
Sienna: Got your voicemail. Everything’s good. Miss you. Mom is in overprotective mode again. Do you know why?
