Chapter 18

Chapter 18
SOPHIA

I sit up in bed, feeling the muscles in my thighs and deep inside me protest.

Dario demanded so much of me that I simply passed out. I bite my lip at the memory of what we did.

Where is he? Daylight seeps through the small gaps in the curtain on the ship’s window, alerting me that it’s already morning.

I get up and head to the bathroom, confirming I’m alone.

I need a shower and clothes, but all my things are in my cabin. I doubt Salvatore would mind if I borrowed a shirt.

Back at my cabin, I stop in front of the door, a chill running through me and a knot tightening in my throat as last night flashes in my mind.

It’s okay. You’re safe now.

I turn the knob and step inside. I take off Dario’s shirt, leave it on the bed, and head into the bathroom, making sure to lock the cabin door first.

I take a quick shower, my mind running through everything that’s happened and what I have to face now: my involvement with Dario, Xavier’s plan.

Maybe I should accept his help to get off this ship safely, but I still can’t bring myself to trust him.

He makes me feel protected, but at the same time, I know he’s hiding things from me. Right now, though, I’m too hungry to decide what to do.

After slipping into a light dress, I head to the ship’s restaurant. I sit at the bar since I don’t want to take up a whole table alone.

I order juice, scrambled eggs, and some toast. I’m eating when two young men sit a bit further down the bar, close enough for me to catch their conversation.

“Do you really think he just fell overboard in the middle of the night? You’re so naïve,” one of them says.

“And you think he was fed to the sharks? Falling sounds more believable.”

“That’s what they want you to think. But we know the truth: the guy messed with the boss’s woman and ended up shark food.”

“Fuck… these people are dangerous.”

What are they talking about? Shark food? Someone fell overboard? Then it hits me. Could it be…?

No. The boss’s woman? They’re talking about me? A wave of nausea hits me. No. Nobody knows about that. Dario wouldn’t…

“What are you doing here?”

The deep voice makes me jolt on the stool. His hand lands on my back as he stops beside me, his serious eyes on me. I catch the two men scrambling to their feet and leaving almost immediately.

No. I’m imagining things.

“I…” I clear my throat, pushing away the absurd thought. “I came for breakfast.”

“You shouldn’t have left the room.”

“What? You want to keep me as your prisoner?” I snap, but his expression doesn’t change.

“Eat.” His tone is a command, his gaze sweeping the room.

What happened? Why is he acting like this? His face looks tired, faint shadows under his eyes. Did he stay up all night instead of being with me like I thought? Then if he wasn’t with me…

“What did you do?” The words slip out before I can stop them. His eyes snap back to mine, confused. “What did you do to him?”

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

Oh God. No. It can’t be. My stomach twists, my lungs feel tight.

My gut was right. I should’ve stayed away from him.

Who did I get involved with? I have no idea who this man standing in front of me really is, and yet I let him take me, thinking he was trying to protect me. Because I was scared.

Fear. That’s exactly what I feel now. This man could be a killer.

I push myself up from the stool, forcing my legs to move, and start walking away.

“Sophia!” he calls, and I quicken my pace, fully aware he’s following me.

Fuck. What did I get myself into? Calm down. You’re not sure. Maybe you’re imagining things. But it’s too much of a coincidence.

“Sophia!” He catches up, gripping my arm. “Where are you going?”

I try to keep my voice steady.

“To my room.”

“You’ll be safer in mine. Come.” He takes my hand, forcing me to follow him.

I need to know for sure he didn’t do it. That he’s not a killer.

“I want to see him,” I say as soon as we step inside his room, knowing it’s the only way to end my suspicion.

“No. I told you, he was just following orders.”

“Then I want to see Catherine.”

“She’s not here anymore.”

“Where is she?”

“Why do you care? And why would you want to see her?”

“Why can’t you answer a single question?”

He exhales, frustrated.

“I sent her away.”

“And she agreed?”

“Fuck…” He brushes past me, shrugs off his black blazer, and tosses it onto the bed. “How many times do I have to tell you not to worry about this? I said they’d be punished, and they were. What do you want?”

“Punished how?”

“Sometimes you are really hard to deal with, you know that?” He steps closer, and a rush of fear and unwanted heat spreads over my skin.

Yes. I’m afraid of him, just like the first time, when I let him into my car. It’s possible Catherine is dead now. Just like the man thrown overboard.

And as much as I wanted them to pay for what they did, I don’t want to believe Dario is capable of this.

His hands cup my face, his finger brushing my lower lip.

“How are you feeling? Did I hurt you yesterday?” His voice softens, and I’m almost hypnotized by his eyes, his scent, when I see it — the red smear on the cuff of his white shirt.

My throat closes, my eyes go wide. He notices and steps back.

“What?” He looks at his hand. “Shit…”

“That’s…” Fuck. It was him. My heart slams in my chest.

“It’s nothing.”

“What did you do?” I turn toward the door, panic rising, my body screaming to run.

“It was just a fucking rat.” A lie.

He’s lying, and I know it. He killed that man.

“You… Who are you?”

“What?” He takes a step, and I retreat. “You’re afraid of me?”

“Stay away from me.”

“Sophia…” He takes another step, backing me toward the bed. “It was just a rat.”

I spring up and bolt for the door.

“Sophia!” he shouts, catching me before I can escape, his arm locking around my waist.

“Please…” I beg, my back pressed to the door, tears stinging my eyes.

He spins me to face him.

“Fuck… Don’t cry. I would never hurt you, sweetheart. Why are you afraid of me?”

“Please… Let me go…”

“Damn it!” He snarls, slamming his fist into the wall beside the door, making me flinch harder. My whole body shakes, and I can’t hold back the tears anymore. There’s blood on his fingers now.

“You don’t trust me… No matter what I do.” He shakes his head before stepping back, giving me the chance to run out the door.