Alistair raised his eyebrows at Sophia’s and Gabriela’s small suitcases, which the bellboy was taking to their waiting car. “Is this it?”

She shrugged. “It was just a few days and I left my other clothes in Rio.”

“You’re a piece of work,” he whispered, shaking his head, amazed. “I have never seen a woman travel with so little. Are you sure you don’t have OCD?”

“As if you weren’t organized too.” She jutted her chin to his small luggage.

“I’m a man,” he said dismissively, as an explanation.

She sighed dramatically, “You’re incorrigible.”

He chuckled. “That’s why I’m marrying you.”

Right. I know. “Indeed,” she mocked.

Gabriela came down to meet them, bouncing lightly between Edward and Felipe. She was wearing a lovely pink wool dress with a white sash. Her long blonde hair was tied in pigtails and held by white silk ribbons. She threw herself in Alistair’s open arms.

“Good morning, Alistair.” She kissed and hugged him. “Are you looking forward to going to the beach?”

He smiled at her and put her back on the ground. “Only if you take me, Fairy.”

“I will. Promise.” She jogged to the car where Maria and Zareb were waiting.

“Ready for the jungle?” Edward asked Alistair.

“Good Lord, Edward. You’re going to scare him like that.” Felipe smacked his hand on his forehand. “Don’t listen to Edward. He—”

“Yes, don’t listen to him,” interrupted Sophia, her gaze distant. “In the jungle, you know the rules. In Brazil, you don’t.”

* * *

“WHAT!” Ethan lost his composure for a split second.

He smiled apologetically at the surprised woman on the other treadmill and pushed the stop button, getting off.

He accepted a towel from the personal trainer, drying his face and grabbed a bottle of water.

He exited the fitness center, emerging by the rooftop infinity pool, and dropped into one of the comfortable reclining chairs. He lowered his tone, “Are you sure, Scott? When?”

He looked at Christ the Redeemer, the huge statue atop the Corcovado Mountain, and a sharp pain made his eyes tear. The view was lost on Ethan as he felt nauseated by Sophia’s betrayal.

She’s going to marry MacCraig. MacCraig. The thought turned his stomach and he drew in a gulp of air.

He ended the call after giving Scott some instructions and headed for his room with angry and firm steps.

* * *

Calista’s eyes popped open and she wriggled her perfect small nose in disgust, when the childish giggles mingled with the zen music her brawny masseur had put on before he started.

“Relax.” Adam, her therapist, kneaded her shoulders more firmly.

She sighed and closed her azure eyes just to open them angrily when, five minutes later, Ethan’s piercing shriek followed his happy laughter.

“That’s it,” she said, sitting up, her lilting accent pronounced. “Adamos, call that horrible brat here. Now,” she ordered as she got down from the massage bed and put on her silk robe. “He can’t give me a moment’s peace.”

“Calista, honey—”

“NOW!”

Adam turned to obey, with a grimace on his lips. He hated to see the way that selfish, pampered, and promiscuous woman treated her sweet, gentle son.

Calista paused in front of the full-length mirror of her private rooms and tied the sash around her slim waist, observing her stunning figure. She turned her face from side to side and ran her hand over her neck and breasts. She smiled, satisfied with what she saw.

“Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?” she mocked her own image, picking a brush up from the vanity table and brushing her long black hair with vigorous strokes, thinking about her son. Her smile disappeared and she thinned her full lips.

“You called me, Mum?” Ethan’s innocent and eager voice made her turn from her own mesmerizing image.

In front of her was a lovely blond boy with her own azure eyes, perfect nose, and strong features.

“For you, Mum.” Ethan was holding a bunch of red roses from the garden in his hands. At six, his still childish face already showed the signs of the handsome man he would become.

However, he was also a constant reminder of what Calista hated most in her life.

She had never wanted a child. She had never wished for married life. She wanted freedom, and Ethan had chained her from the moment he had been conceived. To make things worse, he always looked at her with adoring and beguiling eyes.

She put the brush back on the table with a thud and he flinched.

She looked at the flowers with a rictus on her lips, and snatching them from his hands, threw the roses in the waste bin, saying, “Are you stupid? I’m allergic to flowers. Bring me diamonds next time.”

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Ethan lowered his head, hiding the tears that invaded his eyes. “I’m sorry, Mum,” he whispered through the huge lump that blocked his throat, wringing his hands. “I’ll remember.”

“What were you doing screaming like that? You are disturb me.”

“Disturbing,” he corrected, unconsciously.

The sound of a slap rang in the room.

“Shut up!” she hissed at her son in Greek. “SHUT. UP. You’re no better than me, you undeserving brat.”

“Calista.” Adam moved from his position in the doorway, shocked at the gratuitous violence. “He’s a child—”

She raised her perfect eyebrows at him, and ice coated her voice when she stated, “Child or no, he have to learn that this is not a fairy tale world.”

Child or not. He has to learn that this is not—

“Look at me, Aethon,” she spoke again in English, with her strong Greek accent.

My name is Ethan. Not Aethon. I’m your son. Not your horse. He blinked his eyes at the beautiful woman that looked at him from such an enormous height. Too far for him to reach. The distance too great to find a way into her heart. “I’m sorry, Mum. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry is not enough! On the corner. At your knees. ‘Til I say so.”

In the corner. On your knees. In his mind, Ethan kept correcting the mistakes his mother made to stop the tears from falling as he walked to the corner of the room and knelt there, facing the wall. Why you never smile at me, Mum? Hug me, Mum. A kiss. Stroke my hair. What have I done so wrong?

Calista took off her robe and lay naked on the massage bed. “I’m ready for you, Adamos.”

The masseur masked his disgust and controlled his anger as he put the small towels back in place over Calista’s breasts and hips. He eyed the little boy’s back with his head lowered. The slight trembling of his formal white shirt revealed how much he had been hurt.

Before she closed her eyes, Calista told Adam with a sneer in her voice, “He’ll never get a woman. Flowers! Imagine!”

Ethan counted the white stripes on the colored wallpaper of his mother’s room. I’m not going to cry. I am not.

But he would.

Later. Alone.

* * *

Ethan yanked off his sweaty clothes and got in the cold water, not caring about the temperature of the shower.

The noise that burst agonizingly from his throat surprised him.

He had not cried—much less sobbed—since that fateful day he discovered Eve’s betrayal. He had promised himself he would never let a woman hurt him again.

But it was uncontrollable.

He dropped to his knees under the water and cried as if he were a child with his face in his hands.

He had been used all his life and then thrown away like spoiled goods, without a thought from the ones that were supposed to care for him.

He couldn’t believe Sophia was doing the same thing.

I am the one who brought you back to life, Sophia. I am the one who made you happy. You said so yourself. And you’re turning your back on me. Like all the others. Like all the others.

In his mind, Ethan concluded she didn’t care for the deep feelings he had for her.

He shouted out in pain and banged his fists on his thighs as he sobbed.

Alistair MacCraig is not trustworthy, Sophia. He’s a creep with unusual sexual preferences. He’ll make you suffer. You’re too innocent for the likes of him. I am the one for you. I am the only one you should love, Sophia.

What was left of his rational personality had been divided into two separate beings. Ethan felt torn apart, as two different sides coexisted inside his soul and fought for control, two parts of himself that he didn’t usually acknowledge.

His gentle side, which had survived the lies and abuse of his parents and grandfather, wanted Sophia to be happy with whomever she wished.

His confused and frustrated side, molded by the constant bullying and lack of love, selfishly wanted Sophia all to himself.

Once again, Ethan had lost control of his life. He had failed himself.

After a long time, he rose and finished his shower, drying himself without looking in the mirror. He wrapped a towel around his lean waist and picked up the telephone, gazing at it absentmindedly for a moment before calling the concierge and turning to the mirror.

A cold smiling face with a raised eyebrow stared at him from inside the mirror.

“Good morning. Do you have round the clock CCTV surveillance?”