Page 42 of Hearts Of Darkness

15

EVE

Istand on the balcony and listen to the roar of his private aircraft as he departs for an unknown destination, on a mission he refuses to tell me anything about.

I miss him already.

The lines between lust and hate have never been more blurred. There is no black and white with us, only these contradictory shades of gray.

Will there be other women for him on this trip? A faceless, meek alternative to our passionate fucking that comes with a million caveats?

The idea plants a seed of doubt in my mind that keeps me tossing and turning for most of the night. Eventually dawn breaks, but I have no phone, no laptop, no way of hearing from him. I’m still locked inside a gilded cage, but now I’m pining for my jailor,not for my freedom.

I shower, dress, and head downstairs. Sofía was conspicuously absent from the house for most of yesterday, and I’m desperate to talk to her about Valentina.

I find her in the kitchen preparing lunch. It smells like some kind of casserole. I stand in the doorway and watch her for a moment, unsure of how to announce my presence. Her head is bowed in concentration, but I can tell she’s been crying. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and her sweet round face is paler than normal, but she still manages to raise a smile when she glances up and spots me.

“Breakfast, señorita?”

“Toast would be lovely,” I say, returning her warmth. “And please, call me Eve.”

She busies herself with my request, removing the butter from the fridge and arranging a selection of spreads on the island in front of me. They all have American labels, and they’re all my favorites—strawberry preserve, creamy peanut butter…

“Were these bought for me?” I ask her.

“Señor Dante requested them four days ago, along with your new clothes and toiletries.”

Why would he do that?He’s catching me off guard again. He’s content to give me his body and his gifts and precious little else, but right now, I’ll take what I can get, especially the protection team watching my family, twenty-four seven.

“Sofía?”

She looks up and her smile freezes. She knows exactly what I’m going to ask her. “Valentina did a bad thing,” she says gravely. “You don’t need to worry about her anymore.”

“Did Dante—”

“She got what she deserved. I see that now. Señor Dante is a hard man, but his heart is good.” Her face unexpectedly softens again. “He is only trying to protect you.”

A good heart?Is she serious? In my world men with ‘good hearts’ don’t torture women.

“I didn’t know… I never should have said…” I trail off helplessly.

“This isnotyour fault, señorita, and I’ll hear no more about it.”

I watch her plate up two pieces of piping-hot toast, and then slice up an apple to serve alongside. There’s something endearing and old-fashioned about her manner. She’s so pretty, too.

“Sofía, have you and Dante ever…?”

Sofía bursts out laughing, her lovely face creasing up in disbelief. “Oh, sweet Lord. How could you even think such a thing?”

“Does he bring many women to this place?”

“No,” she says, suppressing a smile. “You’re the first.”

That’s something, I suppose. Or maybe I’m just his first foray into kidnapping.

“Have you worked here a long time?”

“Four years,” she declares proudly.

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