Untamed Passion_Shades of Trust

  London, In a dimly lit room

  Sunday, September 26, 2010

  1:05 a.m.

  The man had kept his word, buying Ghost a penthouse in a luxury building in Dubai. He scanned his Dubai bank account, searching for the credits made in the last days.

  A quarter of a million from Switzerland showed that the blonde woman was eager to start everything soon.

  A hundred-thousand reais from Brazil showed that the group was formed and ready.

  He smiled, amazed and amused at the same time, at what jealousy and hatred could make people do.

  He texted the blonde woman:

  Unknown. 1:11 a.m. - Start plan

  And then he sent two texts to Brazil:

  Unknown. 1:12. a.m. - Plan in motion. Rent the place

  Unknown. 1:13. a.m. - Plan in motion. Await instructions

  Ghost put the cell phone and the sim card in separate black plastic bags and crushed them with a hammer, to be disposed of far away from his home the next day.

  He sat back on his chair, contented, and took off his gloves.

  He was a man used to spying on the lives of beautiful women cheating on their older husbands or husbands cheating on their wives with ravishing younger women. He thought nothing could surprise him anymore, but this new job was novel and thrilling.

  His grin was pure evil when he jotted down a few notes for the next days and went to bed.

  He was sure he had opened Pandora’s Box and that not even hope would survive inside it.

  Chapter 42

  Leibowitz Oil Building

  Monday, October 4, 2010

  11:07 a.m.

  In the meeting room, Sophia took her place at the head of the table and smiled at Ethan who was seated by her side.

  I missed you, Sophia. “How was your trip?”

  Amazing and hot. Sexy hot. “Oh, Ethan. You have to go there.” Her eyes sparkled and she happily lost herself in recounting the experiences she had on her honeymoon.

  After a few minutes, she looked around and saw that everyone was ready with their folders and notebooks in front of them. “I guess we can start.”

  Scott, seated beside Ethan, took out his Montblanc ready to take notes.

  “I’ll begin with a few principles that are the basis of Sophia Leibowitz Foundation. We follow the directives of the UN and International Human Rights. We have in mind the protection of women and children that are or have been abused, supporting and promoting the prevention of violence and struggling to protect them from all forms of abuse, including sexual. You will find all these and the other initiatives on pages three through ten.”

  She waited until everyone from Ethan’s team had taken a quick look at those pages, unaware that Ethan’s eyes were fixed on her, drinking in the new beautiful side of a mature, responsible woman he’d never seen before.

  “Great. Now, as requested by Mr. Ashford, and supported by Ashford Steel’s gracious donation, we’ve designed a plan where we put Indian and Chinese children—and families, if possible—at the center of all our work for the next year. The following principles are interrelated and will guide our work. Quickly enumerating them.”

  Sophia, you’re my zenith. Ethan continued to stare in awe, while Sophia explained the work her foundation planned to undertake. When she finished, he put his hand over hers, and squeezed warmly, not caring what the rest of the people in the room would think about his gesture. “That is amazing, darling. I’m sure this work will have a tremendous impact on these families’ lives. Amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

  Zahira and Ashley exchanged looks while Scott hid his smile behind the folder.

  Sophia glanced fondly at Ethan. “We’ll do our best.”

  You see, Calista, I’m loved. I still have someone I can trust. “I knew I put my trust in the right hands,” he replied.

  Thank you, Ethan. She gave him a bright smile and returned her attention to the other participants. “From the first time I talked about this with Mr. Ashford, I saw that the project would have to be bigger than the initial proposal, so I decided to revert our share of fifty percent of the donations, which were left free for us to use at our will, on this project. Children cannot survive on their own, and they need love and care that cannot be given by an institution or foster care. We propose two lines of action. Help the families, and in the case of abandoned Chinese baby girls, place them for immediate adoption. We’ll have volunteers looking for families all around the world and after the first triage with psychologists and psychiatrists specialized in family and adoption, we’ll help them with the legal proceedings. Of course, we always have the children’s best interests in mind. First, decisions and actions affecting an individual child should reflect his or her unique circumstances; second, all actions and decisions, whether legal or administrative, impact all children or a specific group of children, and their parents, so this is a point on which we have to tread lightly. Sexuality is a topic that people in Chinese rural areas are not willing to talk about. We have contacted a few organizations there to help us convince schools to participate in our program, that we are calling safety education. Besides our doctors and health practitioners in general, we already have volunteers that surely will be able to reach pregnant women to save the lives of baby girls and second baby daughters.”

  Spectacular, Sophia. “This is better than I thought.”

  She smiled at him quickly. “This is a brief introduction of the project. You’ll find the new blueprints of our Indian and Chinese facilities at the end of the folder.” Sophia then introduced the other members of her team, who would describe other areas of the project. “Mrs. Zahira Chanda, the president of the Foundation, will explain the timely placement of children into safe, permanent homes and for their highest quality of care while they are under the court’s jurisdiction. Mr. Paul Evergreen, head of the legal department, will explain the difficulties we are going to face in China. Ms. Ashley Carruthers, our PR director, will show us what information she has already sent out to our supporters and what she prepared for the press conference in two weeks. And last but not least,” she smiled at Scott who beamed at her, “Mr. Scott Mulberry, from Ashford Steel, will present the distribution of funds and profits provided by our gala ball, the table sales, the donations, and support we have already received, and everything else concerning the ball.”

  The City of London Headquarters

  In The Main Meeting Room

  1:01 p.m.

  Alistair’s iPhone vibrated for the third time in a row in the space of fifteen minutes but he couldn’t possibly check his cell in the middle of such an important meeting.

  He took out from his inner breast pocket the Cartier limited edition dragon pen Sophia had given him. ‘For luck,’ she had said. He willed his lips not to curl up. But every little thing that reminded him of Sophia made a smile come to his face.

  Unscrewing the pen, he signed his name on the agreement, passing it along for the others to sign. Malcolm and Berkeley, partners of the bank, had huge smiles on their faces. It had been a great acquisition that transformed The City of London Bank into one of the biggest in the world. He had been studying the South American market for a long time and when the opportunity had presented itself, as the cunning businessman he was, he already had a strategy planned. All he had to do was wield his power dispassionately.

  Not that he cared really. He had learned that there were more important things in life than money. No money could bring his daughter back. No money could buy affection.

  His phone vibrated again and he harrumphed inwardly.

  After all the contracts had been signed and handed over to the lawyers, he rose and greeted all the others in the room with a smile on his face, leaving the seller, an old distinguished man, last. “Senhor Magalhães, I have to say, I was most impressed with how you spread the branches of your bank during the Brazilian military dictatorship and continued expanding through South America. It has been an honor to meet you personally and a pleasure doing busin
ess with you.”

  “Likewise, Mr. MacCraig. By the way, congratulations on your recent marriage. I’ve known Sophia since she was a child. My wife is very good friends with her grandmother, Angelica. We received an invitation for the wedding, but due to my wife’s fragile health we couldn’t come. I wish I could have seen Sophia marrying again. She must have made a beautiful bride.”

  “Ravishing, Senhor Magalhães, ravishing.” That made Alistair’s smile widen and he felt like a school boy who had just been praised for his good grades. “Let me show you a photo.”

  He fished his iPhone from the pocket of his navy suit trousers.

  He didn’t blink as he scrolled for a photo of Sophia in her wedding dress.

  Just by sheer force of will, Alistair maintained his smile as he showed Sophia’s photo to the older man and talked for a few more minutes.

  When he had taken his phone out, the last text message he had received was on his screen:

  Unknown. 1:09 p.m. - Your wife is betraying U

  Buy now the last installment in

  Shades of TRUST Series,

  Unbroken Love!

  A Note From The Author

  Thank you for reading Untamed Passion! I hope you enjoyed it. If you feel so inclined, please recommend this book to a friend and/or post an honest review. Reviews help other readers find new books to enjoy.

  It’s easy: click here and write just a few short words—or a lot of long words, if you wish, I won’t judge.

  You can make a big difference and I’ll be grateful.

  Now, as promised, turn the page for a sneak a peek

  at Unbroken Love, Shades of TRUST #4.

  Chapter 1

  London, The City, Victoria Embankment

  The City of London Headquarters

  Monday, October 4, 2010

  1:29 p.m.

  Alistair walked the length of his office with long strides, a caged panther, as he read the messages again and again.

  Unknown. 12:45 p.m. - Do U trust your wife?

  Unknown. 12:49 p.m. - Where is your wife?

  Unknown. 1:01 p.m. - What is your wife doing? With who?

  Unknown. 1:09 p.m. - Your wife is betraying U

  He had entered his office, closing and locking the door, which was atypical, and informed his assistant on the intercom, “MacKeenan, I don’t want to be bothered.”

  “Of course—”

  Alistair cut off the answer, being unusually rude. He was more concerned with beating the doubts that had wedged in his mind. Who could possibly be doing this? Why do they want me to doubt Sophia?

  He peered again at the image attached to one of the messages.

  Ethan was holding Sophia’s hand, helping her into his Rolls-Royce. Both of them had huge smiles on their faces.

  This is…this is… Alistair fell on his chair. He didn’t even want to contemplate what that was. Who is chasing Sophia and getting so close to take pictures of her? Who is trying to make me think she is betraying me?

  He picked up his mobile to call his wife, but didn’t place the call not wanting to alarm her unnecessarily.

  London, The City, L’Anima restaurant

  1:37 p.m.

  “Oh my God, Ethan.” Sophia licked her lips. “This is so unfair.”

  Yes, so unfair. Ethan felt dizzy sitting there beside Sophia.

  “I really don’t know what to choose. What do you think, Ash?”

  Ashley looked at her boss and shook her head. “I don’t, either. I love the food here.”

  “How about we ask Chef Francesco to suggest something for us?” Ethan offered. “His food entices the senses.” As you have done with mine, darling.

  “Great idea.” She turned to Scott. “I’m really impressed with your ideas for The Dorchester ballroom decoration.”

  “You should consider yourself honored,” said Ashley to Scott, “it’s very hard to impress Sophia.”

  Ethan almost laughed out loud when Scott puffed his chest. “Scott is very competent. He manages to achieve everything I ask of him. Even the most difficult tasks. I’m sure the ball will be a huge success.”

  “All the invitations are sold,” Scott said. “I’ve already managed to secure sponsorship for the decoration, The Dorchester will not charge for the ballroom rental and they are also giving us a very special price for the catering, Mrs. MacCraig.”

  Sophia saw Ethan flinch at hearing her married name. Oh, Ethan, you have to get over it. “Please, Scott, call me Sophia. We’ll be working together on this. I didn’t want to prolong the meeting, but I have a few ideas that I’d like to discuss with you.”

  “Scott, her ideas are extremely creative.” Ashley smiled fondly at Sophia. “But get ready, she is a general and commands us as if we were soldiers.”

  That made Scott grin. “It’ll be my pleasure to soldier under your orders, Mrs—”

  “Sophia,” she corrected him with a sweet smile.

  If possible, Scott’s grin widened. “Sophia.”

  The chef approached their table and they started an animated discussion about food flavors and wine combinations.

  Sophia may have married MacCraig but she still likes me very much. It’s just a question of time. Then a thought intruded into his mind, making him review his feelings. But a question of time to do what? Oh, damn. I don’t even know what I want anymore.

  Sophia, Barbara. Barbara, Sophia.

  I’m going crazy. This whole mess is going to lead me to hell.

  The City of London Bank Headquarters

  2:22 p.m.

  Alistair opened his office door quietly, “MacKeenan.”

  His assistant looked up, surprised. Alistair normally made his requests by intercom. “Yes?”

  It took Alistair a while to speak. He opened his mouth but what he was going to say was replaced by, “Do you know where Tavish Uilleam is? I’ve tried to reach him on his cell phone, but he’s not answering.”

  MacKeenan consulted his computer. “He’s at The Blue Dot. He had a meeting there with a new artist.”

  “What time was it supposed to begin?”

  “Two o’clock, sir,” informed MacKeenan, noticing the strained lines around Alistair’s eyes. “Mr. MacCraig, would you like me to call your brother?”

  Shall I call him? Leo? Baptist? Alistair just shook his head, in spite of his need to roar his anger and fear. Without a word, Alistair went back to his office and shut the door quietly. Picking up the headset of his private line he called the PI.

  5:29 p.m.

  “I came as soon as I could. My battery died—”

  Alistair swirled in his chair to face his brother. There was a bottle of The Famous Grouse Scotch whisky on the table and a glass half-full.

  The dramatic sounds of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, the Symphony of Destiny, filled the room.

  Tavish turned and closed the door, locking it, frightened by the dark hollowed look on Alistair’s face. “Jesus, Alistair Connor. What happened?”

  But Alistair couldn’t reply. He was numb. Fate is knocking on my door again. He thought how appropriate was the symphony he had chosen.

  “Sit. Please.” He stood and motioned for Tavish to sit in one of the armchairs, waving his glass. “Do you want one?”

  Tavish shook his head. “How much have ye had?”

  “Just a sip.” Barely nothing. I’m…feeling sick. “No one is dead. And no one is hurt.” Well, not physically. At least not yet. He sat heavily on the sofa by the armchair and handed his brother the file Baptist had given him in February.

  “I’m getting worried—” Tavish leafed through the file and scowled at his brother, handing it back. “Why are you spying on Sophia?”

  Alistair didn’t elaborate for a while, not exactly knowing how to explain his paranoia. He opened it to the last page and, as he did those many months ago, he traced the contour of Sophia’s delicate face. He knew his limitations and he knew he was on the edge of something dangerous. “This is old. I was going to throw it away. I don?
??t know why I kept it. Maybe it was because of the photos.”

  Tavish shook his head, not really understanding why Alistair was brooding with such sadness and darkness. He leaned over and put a hand on his brother’s knee. “Come on, tell me.”

  “And if I said Sophia is betraying me?” His voice was so low he didn’t know if Tavish had heard him. He was controlling his urge to shout and hurl his glass against the wall. But when he looked up from the photo, Tavish’s mouth was hanging agape. “Well?”

  Tavish closed his mouth and swallowed. “Are ye serious?” When Alistair nodded, he stated, “Dude, I’d say ye are fucking nuts.”

  Aye, I’d say that too. He drained the rest of his whisky, thumped the glass on the table beside him and showed Tavish the messages. “So, what am I supposed to make of those?”

  Tavish scanned the messages quickly and tapped the screen to zoom at the photo. “She is hosting a ball with Ashford, isn’t she? Maybe they were going out to lunch. Did Sophia tell you she was meeting him?”

  “Nae. We rarely talk about our schedules, except when there is something different or interesting. And I don’t control her.”

  Tavish rubbed a hand on his nape, looking at the photo and seeing nothing wrong with it. “Who could possibly want to make you doubt her?”

  When did you become so wise, Tavish Uilleam? Alistair looked at his brother. “Do you think it is so?”

  Tavish shrugged and looked at the screen. “Do you know the number?”

  “What?” He didn’t understand what Tavish meant.