The stubborn, unmanageable woman waved me good-bye and walked inside. It seems ages ago. I need her back. I want to be back at her house. I want to rip off her clothes and fuck her until she knows—and I know—she’s still mine. Only mine. Alistair pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind. He couldn’t allow his desire to rule his actions. Not now.

She was so pale and I’m sure it wasn’t only from the pain. He worried about what had happened; everything had been going so smoothly. She said she needed time to think, right, but then—Fuck! Stop thinking about the past and get on with some plan to make her realize you are the one for her.

“Alistair Connor? Is everything all right?” Tavish cocked his head. Alistair hadn’t uttered a single word on the ride over. When Tavish asked if he needed company, Alistair just nodded vaguely.

Alistair didn’t even hear his brother’s question.

“Alistair Connor.” Tavish’s call came to him through a haze of confusion, passion, and fear, all mixed together. “Alistair Connor! Snap out of it! What are you staring at?”

“The…” Awkwardly, Alistair cleared his throat and helplessly glanced around. “The paintings.”

Tavish looked at him through squinted eyes.

“What?” He looked at his whisky and noticed that he hadn’t drunk it. He gulped it down in a single toss.

“I can never remember, are the pupils larger when someone’s drunk or smaller?”

“Drunk? I am no’ drunk!”

“Then you’re on drugs. You’re staring at the fucking paintings like you’re aroused.” He raised a mocking eyebrow. “At least I hope you’re on something, otherwise we have bigger problems than I thought.”

Alistair didn’t feel like answering. He felt like brooding. He stood up and paced the room.

Tavish sat down, resting his face on his palm, and observed his brother as he raked a hand through his long hair. He understood that jokes weren’t going to make Alistair talk.

“All right. Spill, Alistair Connor. You look even more worried now than you did on the plane.”

“I am,” he admitted, grabbing the bottle of whisky. He kicked Tavish out of his favorite armchair and slouched in it. “I’m an asshole, Tavish Uilleam.”

“Oh, man. This is new.” Tavish laughed and moved to the other armchair. “I never thought I’d agree with you a hundred percent. You, Alistair Connor, are a huge asshole.”

“Shut up. It’s complicated.”

“Uncomplicate it then,” he chuckled.

“I think I lost her.” The words left Alistair’s mouth without permission.

“Jesus!” Tavish sat upright on the armchair. “How?”

I don’t know. And if my suspicions are right I can’t tell you. “And you know what’s worse…I truly don’t know why and I’m afraid.” He suddenly understood his loss and it squeezed the air from his chest.

“Why?”

There was a scared look in his eyes that would surprise those who saw only the hard, blunt surface that he showed the world. “She’s driving me mad. She is cold and barely civil with me—”

“You are talking about Sophia, right? Your Sophia? Cold? Uncivil?” Tavish shook his head. “Impossible, she’s a dear.”

“Oh, aye, she is. A dear, an angel, a beauty, a goddess. Everything. Anything.” He knew he was not making sense anymore. He ran a hand over his face, gulped down his whisky. “I proposed,” he sighed deeply, “and she refused.”

To his credit, Tavish did not swear, nor did he laugh. He merely stared at Alistair as if he had just announced that the world would end in the next minute.

“I beg your pardon?” Tavish was speechless, confused by Alistair’s action and Sophia’s response. “What happened? From the beginning, please.”

* * *

That’s not so bad, is it? Asking for time to think?” Alistair asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m in love with her, Tavish Uilleam. Crazy in love. Insanely in love.”

“As if she weren’t too.” Thoughts were again starting to form coherently in Tavish’s mind. “She looks at you with adoration in her eyes. Both of them do actually. Sophia and Gabriela.” He shook his head. “I don’t get it…maybe she just needs some time. To digest what she’s remembered.”

“I don’t think that’s it.” Come on, Alistair Connor. Man up and talk to your brother. He gives good advice. Alistair opened his mouth and closed it again.

“So what is it then?”

“I don’t know,” Alistair shook his head disheartened and repeated quietly, “I doona know.”

* * *

Catching her bottom lip between her teeth, Sophia mulled over the last months of her life.

In truth, she was caught completely off guard by Alistair’s proposal. It filled her with hope, elation, and a fear so deep she choked on it. Everything she wanted was right there at her fingertips. She could take it and know he offered it truly. The memory of what she saw in his dressing room flooded her mind and she remembered the times Alistair had asked for pain and violence in sex.

Even without the proposal, am I ready to continue in a relationship where I know nothing about the man I have been with for months?

Her car stopped.

Should I give him a chance? Should I? How can I know what it’s like without trying? And do I want to try? She breathed deep and without looking at Steven, who held the door open for her, with his usual impassive face, alighted from her Jaguar.

She looked both ways and chewed her lip. Damn, Alistair Connor. Damn you.

Sophia took a deep breath, mustered all her courage and pushed open the door to the sex shop.

She stopped inside, unsure.

At that time of the night, the shop was still busy.

Now, Sophia. You are inside. Just do what you have to do and get out of here.

“Good evening.” A short, middle-aged plump woman approached as she noticed Sophia’s insecurity and smiled, friendly. “I’m Mary. May I help you?”

God. She looks like a kindergarten teacher. What is she doing here? Oh please, Sophia, stop wondering about other people’s lives. “H-Hi,” she stammered. “I, ah…I have a party to go—” Oh, yeah, Sophia. A party to go to on a Monday, at midnight.

“Yes?” The attendant didn’t even blink. She’d heard many weird excuses over the years.

Sophia cleared her throat, “I have a party to go to, and I’m supposed to take a gift for…” Think, think! “A gift for my newly divorced friend.”

“I see.” The expression on the woman’s face didn’t reveal if she knew Sophia was lying. “And do you have something in mind? Lingerie, or a dildo, perhaps?”

The attendant motioned to a wall covered with dildos and vibrators. Of every length and width imaginable. And many other things that Sophia didn’t even recognize.

Sophia walked over to the wall and paused in front of it, biting her lip. She tilted her head to read the name of the strange thing she was looking at.

“That’s an anal bead with a clitoral stimulator. It’s waterproof. You can use it in the shower or in the tub, with lube.”

Sophia blushed. “I see.” How does she talk about this so naturally?

“And this one here is new but it’s already a super seller.” Mary pointed to two linked silver balls connected to a remote control.

“What is this for?” Sophia raised her brows.

“Oh. They are very nice. These balls have four pulse-racing vibration speeds. It’s good to warm up on the lowest setting, then ramp up through medium, high, and finish yourself off with the powerful super. And if she likes clitoral stimulation, she can place one of the balls inside her and stimulate the clit with the other.”

If Mary had looked at Sophia’s furiously blushing face she would have stopped talking. But she carried on animatedly describing the toy. “Or even! These balls can also be used anally for more wicked fun. And the controller can be disconnected and used with other compatible sex toys. What do you think? It’s different. Would your friend like it?”

She lowered her voice to a whisper, “No. She’s into…stronger things.”

“Hard core? BDSM, maybe?”

BD What? “Whips, handcuffs, you know…those kinds of things,” Sophia murmured.

Mary took a good look at Sophia’s face then. She narrowed her eyes, noticing the long natural hair, her washed, bruised face, long-sleeved purple T-shirt, flared dark jeans and asked, “May I see your ID, please?”

“My ID? What for?”

“It’s illegal to sell sex toys to minors,” explained Mary.

Sophia almost broke into hysterical laughter, but managed to shove it deep down, while she fumbled with her purse and showed Mary her driver’s license.

“Thanks. Come through here.” The middle-aged woman strolled farther into the shop and looked at her watch discreetly.

Sophia did the same. Past midnight and I’m buying sex devices. I must have gone insane.

They went through a curtained door and Sophia sucked in a breath.

She had entered a world made of black-and-red leather sex toys. Most of them had a purpose Sophia couldn’t even begin to imagine. They stared back at her, making the blood rush from her face and making her feel dizzy. What have I gotten myself into?

“Are you feeling okay?”

Sophia looked down at the woman and noticed Mary was watching her with a concerned look. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

Mary pointed and explained to Sophia the myriad of products until she could bear no more.

“Mary, please, I just need a strange whip with many tails. That is what I’m supposed to take. Can you choose one for me?”

“Ah, a cat-o-nine or a flogger. Any special kind?”

“Is there more than one kind?” Sophia was bewildered.

“Oh, yes. They can be plain, braided, with beads, fangs. We have a nice collection: Natasha, made of sharkskin, is our new addition. Come this way.”

Natasha? They give names to whips!

Mary stopped in front of a long rack where more than fifty types of cats and floggers, in different colors and sizes hung neatly.

Sophia pointed to one randomly. “This will do.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, I’m not. But since I have no experience in this, I can’t judge it, can I?”

Mary pursed her lips and picked out two different floggers, showing them to Sophia, “Why don’t you start with this one?” She raised the one in her right hand. “Instead of the one with fangs? This one is made from bullhide. Its thicker leather has both thud and bite. It’s a beautiful top-grain leather, thick yet supple. It can easily serve both for warm-ups and moderate end play.”

Sophia almost choked when Mary demonstrated it on her own thigh.

Then Mary raised her other hand, which held a different whip and calmly continued, “Or you can take this one. It’s lighter and special. One of our best suppliers managed to find a small source of quality horsehides. This material has many unique properties. It’s strong and durable even in extreme conditions, and, unlike other types of hides, it’s naturally waterproof.”

What? Horses? Is there no limit to this? Sophia breathed in, concentrating hard on not being sick all over the floor.

The woman didn’t notice and carried on. “Horsehide is so tough that when kangaroo isn’t available for bullwhip falls, Australian whip makers will often use it as a good replacement. Today these hides are still very scarce, since all our horsehide leather is sourced from animals with natural deaths. Horses can’t be killed for their hides.”

“Indeed,” Sophia managed to say in a small voice. “I’ll take the one with…ah…fangs, then.”

Mary checked the price. “Oh, you’re in luck. This one’s got a very good price. It’s four hundred and seventy-five pounds.”

What? In luck? Sophia almost asked out loud. Nearly five-hundred pounds for a whip? People really are crazy.

“I’ll make a nice gift package for you. How will you be paying?”

“Credit card.”

“Come this way, please.”

* * *

Sophia called the lifts.

So quiet. The loneliness of the marble hall on her floor seemed to slap her in the face. This is how my life will be without Alistair.

She shook her head and walked resolutely to her office, taking her key card out of her Chanel bag. You’ll never know what you’re dealing with without good research, Sophia.

She entered her office with Steven and Zareb on her heels. “I won’t be long.”

“There’s no need to rush, Mrs. Leibowitz,” Steven assured her.

“We’ll wait right here.” Zareb had a strange expression on his face.

Sophia entered her office and closed the door. She made a fortifying cappuccino and sat on her chair.

She typed in her password and her iMac came to life. Plugging her iPhone into it, she transferred the pictures she’d taken of Alistair’s dressing room. Opening her internet browser, she added tab after tab, typing in the various things into search.

When she returned to the first one, she narrowed her eyes.

Her hand was not steady as she opened the first link.

* * *

The sound of paper being crumpled ripped through the silence in the office.

Reaching for the drawer, Sophia’s long and slender fingers pulled out another cream sheet with her name elegantly printed in navy at the top of the page. Her Cartier exotic dragon fountain pen ran smoothly over the surface.

The pen stopped midair and Sophia thinned her lips. She crushed the sheet in her hand and threw it with rage in the already full wastepaper basket. She wiped her tear-stricken face with the back of her hands, pulled out another sheet, and started again.

* * *

She walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the sprawl of London across the water with the London Eye visible in the distance. Making a resolute decision, Sophia picked up the iPhone and booked a chartered flight for Gabriela and herself, leaving in three hours.

She opened the door to the hall. Steven and Zareb were calmly talking as if it were the middle of the day. They immediately got up.

“I’m so sorry. I—it took longer than I imagined. I just need one more minute.”

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Leibowitz.”

She hastily added a post scriptum, folded the letter and sealed the envelope with red wax, and pressed her monogrammed stamp on it.

She took out another sheet of paper and caressed her dragon pen, thoughtfully. Her eyes moistened, but she brushed her hand over them with anger, wrote down a message for Sarah, and she took out the black box from her bag.

Sophia called Maria and asked her to pack a small bag with some light clothes for Gabriela and herself.

Then she walked out of her office, leaving the note, the sealed envelope, and the black box on Sarah’s desk.

“I’m ready to go,” she informed the men and walked to the lifts.

The sealed envelope was addressed to:

* * *

Ethan’s BlackBerry rang in the silent room. Once. Twice.

“Hello?” he answered on the third ring.

“Sir, I’m sorry to disturb you at this hour, but there is a situation.”

Instantly, Ethan pushed his fit and muscular body up, resting his broad back on the headboard, alert. “Tell me.”

“Something strange is going on. My contact just called, informing me she left her house after returning for just ten minutes.”

“Alone?”

“No. I guess her daughter was with her because she wasn’t in the McLaren. They left in the Jaguar, but I don’t know if she was driving or not. Sir, I’ve checked her last calls and she booked a private jet. It’s supposed to leave from Heathrow in an hour and a half.”

“Heathrow?” He flung his body out of the bed in an agile movement and went to his dressing room. “Where is she going?”

“Rio de Janeiro.”

He frowned as he picked up his carry-on and started filling it with clothes for warm weather. “Any problems with her family?” 

“I don’t believe so, sir. I’d say that it’s a matter involving her.”

“Cancel her flight. I’m heading to Heathrow. Inform my driver that I’m going down in a few minutes.” He closed his suitcase with finality. “Anything else?”

“No, sir.”

“Did she call him?” He unlocked his safe and retrieved his passport and some money.

“No, sir.” There was a pregnant pause on the other side of the line. “Sir, if I may…”

“Shoot,” he walked into the bathroom with a white linen shirt, black briefs, and a pair of dark blue jeans in his hand.

“I’d say they’ve had a fight.”

A dark smile spread over Ethan’s rugged face as he listened, and his azure eyes flashed. “His loss. Keep an eye on her and brief me again in fifteen minutes.”

“Of course, sir. Also, Ghost traced a credit card payment made at a…sex shop in Soho…hmm…a few minutes after midnight.”

Ethan gave a few instructions to Scott and hung up, entered the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror as he changed. Money and power do not make a man honorable. Worlds can be destroyed in mere seconds. Empires fall after centuries of absolute power.

Ethan knew this better than anyone. His whole world had ended in such a way. All his dreams had been ripped from him in the blink of an eye. Twice.

With his grandfather’s loving lessons he had reinvented himself. And he had prepared himself for any eventuality. He learned how to use every opportunity life gave him. He was not going to miss this one.

Love is what keeps people going. Grandpa taught me well. He brushed his teeth and washed his face, while reasoning with himself. MacCraig must have let his mask slip. I will do anything to protect Sophia.

Even from herself.

No matter how.

No matter the cost.