Alistair immediately felt something was off when Sophia stopped and stiffened beside him. The hand he was holding became suddenly cold. When he gazed at her she was pale and staring straight ahead at a couple that was coming in their direction.

“What is it?” he asked concerned.

Sophia was rooted to the ground and looked like she would faint. The bags with her new bikinis fell to the floor. Her hand flew to her mouth.

“Sophia?” He stepped in front of her and grabbed her right arm, shaking it. “Who are they?”

“Get me out of here, please,” she whispered.

“Sophia!” A polite and cultured female voice, called, “É você, Sophia querida?”

Yes, it’s me. Sophia moaned and closed her eyes. Just the sight of the couple made her senses raw. Too late.

A blonde middle-aged woman, tastefully dressed, with startling beautiful blue eyes had stopped by their side.

Alistair looked over his shoulder. The man had halted a few feet away. He let go of Sophia’s arm, moved aside and brought her closer to him with an arm around her waist. She had turned even paler.

“Rose.” Sophia acknowledged the woman with a taut nod. “How are you?”

Alistair felt her shudder when she spoke the woman’s name.

Raising her chin and setting her shoulders back, Sophia made an elegant gesture in Alistair’s way. “May I present you the Marquis of Ells, Lord Alistair Connor Davenport MacCraig, my fiancé.”

Marquis? Lord? What the fuck? Who is this woman?

Looking at Alistair, she motioned to Rose with a dismissive flick of her wrist. “Lord Ells, this is Rose Leibowitz.”

Oh, fuck!

“Fiancé?” The woman stuttered in a squeak.

Without a smile, he nodded briefly. “How do you do, Mrs. Leibowitz?” It’s a displeasure to meet you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lord,” she replied in perfect English and didn’t extend her hand, as Alistair did not. “Sophia, querida—”

Dear? Dear, my ass. “In English please, dear,” Sophia sneered.

“Of course, I’m sorry.” Rose looked at the old man who was waiting for her, uncertain. “Did Gabriela come with you? I would love to—”

“Rose.” The way Sophia growled the woman’s name sent chills down Alistair’s spine. “Gabriela is none of your business.”

“Sophia, my dear, there is no need to be discourteous,” Rose spoke in a low and trembling voice, and her eyes darted again to the man, as if she were afraid of him. “I just wished to see my granddaughter.”

The old man approached them with a contemptuous look on his face and hate in his blue eyes that he didn’t try to hide. He had a handsome face, a fit body, an arrogant stance. The hair that once might have been a striking blond mane was now white, combed back from his forehead.

He didn’t greet Sophia or Alistair, saying, “Então—”

Rose’s hand on his arm prevented him from continuing. “In English, my dear, Lord Ells probably doesn’t speak Portuguese.”

The man completely ignored his wife and carried on in Portuguese, although he spoke English quite well. “So, you came back. I knew you wouldn’t succeed.” He inspected Sophia, taking in her Valentino dress and Chanel purse and sandals and paused at her Rolex watch and engagement ring. At this last stunning piece, he raised his brows. “Have you already managed to irresponsibly destroy my son’s fortune?”

“Irresponsibly like the way you got him killed?” Sophia answered him in English. There was such wrath in her voice that it cracked like a whip.

Alistair’s hand tightened on Sophia’s waist.

The old man’s face turned ashen and his mouth thinned, but he didn’t defend himself as had Alistair expected.

“No, Alberto,” Sophia spit out his name and smiled darkly at the man. “You have always underestimated me, haven’t you? I’m wealthier now, no thanks to you. Seems I have a knack for the oil business.” Her eyes narrowed and she glowered at him through slits. “In fact, you never liked me, did you?”

“Sophia, please, my dear, that’s not true,” Rose’s voice was a whisper.

“Where are you hiding our granddaughter?” Alberto raised his voice. “We have the right to see her.”

Sophia’s lenience had run out. When Gabriel was kidnapped and murdered, she was too desperate to think straight.

Not now. Not anymore.

She stood taller and stepped away from Alistair’s embrace and flung her hair back.

Seething, she poked a finger on Alberto’s chest. “Let me tell you something, Al-ber-to. You don’t deserve my respect anymore. You killed your own son. What you did to Gabriela, and also to me, was heinous. You are a horrible person. You taint Gabriel’s memory.”

Alberto Leibowitz was speechless. Sophia had always been so sweet, polite, and respectful.

“And, you.” She spun to face Rose, her eyes blazing, and hissed between clenched teeth, “You, Rose, how could you? Your only child. You could have paid the ransom and prevented your son’s death. You’re so pathetically weak! You let Alberto do whatever he wants. You are as guilty of Gabriel’s death as your bloody damned husband. I despise you.” She faced the couple so enraged, a taste of blood so strong in her mouth, that she charged on without thinking, unleashing all the pain and hatred that had been bottled up for years. “You want to see Gabriela? To take her away from me again? Do you think I’m stupid? You’re not going anywhere near her. Ever again. She’s afraid of you. She hates you.”

Rose sobbed brokenly. That took Alberto Leibowitz out of his speechless state and he charged toward Sophia, “You filthy bitch.”

As his hand moved to slap Sophia’s face, Alistair’s rose, catching and crushing the old man’s wrist. Despite Alberto speaking in Portuguese, Alistair was able to understand the feelings being spat out.

“Enough!” he bit out, and wrung Alberto’s wrist, holding back on his desire to break it. “Don’t you dare speak to my future wife like that.” He released Alberto’s hand with a shove and bent down to pick up Sophia’s bags from the floor. “I’ve had enough of you for a lifetime.”

Alberto staggered back. “You’re going to pay for this, Sophia. Mark my words. I won’t rest until I destroy you and have Gabriela back where she belongs.”

“A lost war before it even started, Alberto,” Sophia answered unfazed.

“Let’s go, Sophia,” Alistair said.

At the same time, Rose pleaded, in a hurtful sob, “Sophia, please, I need to see Gabriela. She is the only reminder I have of my son.”

“You should have thought of that when you let Gabriel die.” Sophia looked at Rose with contempt and turned to go. “Good-bye, Rose. I hope one day you free yourself of your self-imposed enslavement. You are too young to wander around like the living-dead.”

Alistair enfolded Sophia in his arms and walked away with her.

Alberto shouted, “I will make you pay for this, Sophia. I’ll see to it.”

Alistair didn’t stop, but looked back once. Rose was crying, her head hung and Alberto was glowering at Sophia with so much hate in his eyes that a bad feeling entered Alistair. Christ!

Some feet away, he paused and looked down at Sophia’s white face, “You okay?”

“No.” She breathed deep. “I’m sorry I made a scene. I wasn’t prepared…I never thought I’d meet them again. They don’t live here. In Rio, I mean.” She put a hand on her head. “Would you mind heading back to the hotel? I’m not feeling well.”

“Of course no’.” There was a murderous look on his face. “I lost my appetite.”

“I’m so sorry, Alistair. On your first day in Rio. It wasn’t supposed to—”

“No more apologies. I should have taken that son of a bitch out.” He felt her melting against his chest, her arm snaking around his waist.

Sophia raised her head to look at his eyes, a ghost of a smile on her face. “I might have liked that, my Highland warrior.”

“Want me to go back?” he smiled down at her.

“Don’t tempt me, I might say yes.” A strange light appeared on her face. “But, no thanks. He deserves worse.”

Her eyes were burning with an emotion he could not identify at first.

Christ, no! It was there again. The mad look he saw in her eyes when she told him why she asked for the kidnappers’ fingers: the avenging angel.

Alistair suddenly became worried. “Sophia, don’t go there. Please, promise me you won’t do anything extreme.”

“Ask for his finger? No. I’m past that. Besides, it would be too kind.” Her eyes narrowed to slits. “He deserves to suffer each and every day of the rest of his life and then rot in hell.”

“You have to let go, Sophia. Revenge won’t bring Gabriel back.” Fuck. Gabriel holds such an important part of her heart.

Her hand clenched on his back but she didn’t utter a word.

Alistair ran his fingers softly over her creased forehead and narrowed eyes. “Relax. Let’s go back to the hotel so you can rest. We have your grandmother’s dinner tonight.”