Chapter 4
Sofia
My head pounded like a marching band was parading through it, and a familiar scent of wood and leather filled my nose, but with the thumping in my brain, I couldn’t place it.
I turned over in my bed, hoping to go back to sleep and get rid of the headache, when memories rushed back in.
The bar.
The drink.
The man.
The darkness.
I bolted upright, my heart rate spiking as fear pulsed through me. Blinking my eyes, the sun-streaked room came into focus, and as I took in my surroundings, a soft gasp left me when my gaze landed on the man sitting at a desk, staring at a computer.
“Miles?”
Bewilderment pushed the fear aside as a question popped into my mind. Why was he here? More to the point, where was here? Because the more the room came into focus, I realized that I wasn’t at home in my own bed.
“There’s a glass of water on the side,” he replied, not tearing his eyes from the screen.
I swallowed, registering how dry my throat was.
Grabbing the glass, I gulped down several large mouthfuls, the cool water relieving the slight burn in my throat.
As I drank, my gaze dropped to my body, finding I was no longer in my cocktail dress but had changed into an oversized t-shirt and basketball shorts.
A ton of rocks landed in my stomach. I had no recollection of changing out of my dress. A quick feel underneath the clothing confirmed I still had my underwear on.
Thank Christ.
But who in the hell took my dress off and put me in these clothes?
I hoped to god that it wasn’t Miles.
“Where am I? What’s going on?” I asked, returning my attention to Miles once I’d finished all the water.
“You’re in my room,” he replied with his usual animosity toward me, and still refusing to look my way.
My brows furrowed as all thoughts of why I was wearing what I could only assume to be Miles’ clothes were pushed from my head, and confusion settled in my bones.
I was in Miles’ room in Hollows Bay?
The last thing I remembered was being inside Bar Forty-Four, and a man I’d never met before pointing a gun at me. I remembered the terror that had gripped hold of me as he told me he was going to shoot me in the face, just like he’d done to my…
“Where’s Gus?” Panic laced my tone as I jumped out of bed, instantly regretting the sudden movement when my body swayed and nausea threatened to creep up my throat.
Reaching out, I placed a hand against a set of drawers to steady myself. Miles huffed, and finally dragging himself away from his computer, he was in front of me within three long strides. “Get back into bed.”
He wrapped a hand around my arm, warm tingles caressing my skin from his touch. Butterflies low in my belly began stretching their wings, ready to flutter manically like any time Miles touched me.
Not that he touched me often. The first time was when we were forced to dance with each other at my uncle’s birthday party, the same night Kai stole Riley away after she’d been hiding out at our place.
Papa had insisted we shared a dance, and for the duration of the song, Miles didn’t speak a word to me despite our arms wrapped around each other and our faces only inches apart.
Instead, his eyes had been filled with venom as he glared down at me, and the second the song ended, he marched away like the devil was on his ass.
The strangest thing was, though, I could have sworn I felt something hard pressed against my stomach, and while one part of me suspected what that bulge was, the logical part told me not to be so stupid; no way in hell would Miles get an erection for someone he claimed to hate.
I tugged my arm out of his grasp. “No. Not until you tell me where Gus is.”
A wave of pride surged through me as I held my head high and didn’t back down when storm clouds filled his eyes. I wasn’t defiant by nature, Papa would never have allowed that, but when it came to Miles, something about his attitude pushed me to defy him.
“Gus is dead,” he replied without a single hint of emotion in his voice. It was like he was ordering a sandwich, not telling me my bodyguard, my friend, was dead.
“What?” I whispered, my eyes widening in horror and disbelief. “He’s…dead? But, how?”
A flash of something that resembled sympathy passed across Miles’ face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced with his stoic features. “It doesn’t matter. He’s dead, that’s all you need to worry about.”
I didn’t know if it was because numbness was slowly creeping through me, or if Miles’ callous tone pissed me off.
Either way, without conscious thought, I pressed a hand against his chest, doing my best to ignore how hard the muscle felt under my palm.
“It does fucking matter! He was my friend! Now tell me what happened!”
His eyes narrowed on me, and even though a snarl twisted on his lips, he removed my hand with a surprisingly gentle touch.
“You want to know what happened?” he sneered callously.
“Fine. I’ll tell you.” He moved closer, our chests brushing, and my breath caught in my throat.
“Princess Sofia couldn’t help but be a brat and gave no fucks whose life was at risk, including her own.
But as long as Princess Sofia got what she wanted, right?
And now, because of your actions, Gus is dead, someone tried to kidnap you, and you’ve got Rohypnol swimming through your veins.
Is that enough detail for you, Jailbait? ”
Tears pricked my eyes as guilt made the nausea already churning in my stomach swirl faster. Distorted memories suddenly filled my head. Punch after punch being thrown at a faceless body, followed by Miles carrying me to his car.
I wished I could say the memories were just images my brain had conjured up, but something in the pit of my belly told me that everything spinning in my head actually happened.
My legs buckled. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Miles cursed under his breath before scooping me into his arms and carrying me to his ensuite. His masculine scent wrapped around me like a comfort blanket before he unceremoniously dumped me in front of the toilet and walked straight back out again.
Silent tears slid down my cheeks as blame pierced my lungs, making it impossible to breathe.
Miles was right; my actions had gotten Gus killed.
No, I didn’t ever want to experience the fear of being kidnapped again, but I would rather something happened to me than to Gus; he didn’t deserve to die at my expense.
I hovered over the toilet, bile creeping up my throat but refusing to expel itself.
No wonder Miles hated me. At that very moment, I hated myself.
It hadn’t occurred to me that I could be putting Gus in danger; he’d always seemed like someone who could protect himself.
Besides, I’d been going to the bar for years, and nothing had ever happened.
Closing my eyes, I quickly reopened them when the image of Papa flashed behind my lids. He would be furious when he found out what happened, especially after he warned me that I wasn’t to leave the house while he and Rafe were away.
I should have known better.
I was used to being a disappointment to Papa, but for some reason, the realization of just how much I’d let him down this time hit me like someone had dropped a ton of bricks on my head.
“Here,” Miles said, returning to the bathroom and thrusting another glass of water and two pills in my direction.
I didn’t bother asking what the pills were as I swallowed them down. I didn’t care. With any luck, they’d knock me out and I’d wake up to find this was all just a nightmare.
Better yet, I wouldn’t wake up at all.
Making the mistake of meeting Miles’ dark-brown eyes as he watched me intently, another memory reared to life that made my heart plummet to the deepest depths of my stomach. An image of me safe in his arms and unable to stop the truth from falling from my lips.
‘It was always you, never Theo.’
My cheeks heated, and without needing to look in the mirror, I knew they were blazing brighter than the sun. I ripped my gaze away, the nausea that had just settled beginning to swirl again as a heavy atmosphere descended.
“Can you give me a minute?” I asked feebly when, after a few minutes, Miles hadn’t moved from leaning against the counter, and I was certain I could speak without embarrassing myself more than I already had.
“No. You need someone to monitor you. Like it or not, that someone is me.”
I wiped my mouth and got to my feet, my legs shaky. “Can you take me home then? There are staff who can keep an eye on me.”
He folded his arms across his broad chest, his signature scowl crossing his lips. “No. You clearly can’t be trusted.”
Anger bubbled under the surface of my skin, smothering the lingering embarrassment.
The asshole had no idea what it was like to live a day in my life, being told what to do, when to do it, and even who to do it with.
Anyone in my position would be crawling the walls, desperate to escape for even a few minutes.
Miles had no damn clue.
“I want to go home,” I replied, gritting my teeth as my hands balled into fists, my nails digging into the flesh of my palms.
“Tough shit, Jailbait.”
“Don’t call me that.”
He shuffled closer, an annoying smirk gracing his handsome face. “Why? Reminds you of the night you tried to lure men into your trap?”
“Fuck you, Milo,” I hissed, internally high-fiving myself when a muscle ticked in his jaw. He hated that nickname as much as I hated the one he’d given me, but two could play his pathetic game. “You know nothing about my life. Not then, and not now.”
His smirk widened. “I know you’re a selfish little princess who doesn’t give a fuck about anyone but herself. That’s all I need to know about you.”
Hurt crashed through me like a tsunami, but I refused to let the tears welling in my eyes to fall. He could have his opinion of me all he liked, but he didn’t know me. He didn’t know a single thing other than I was Georgio Bianchi’s daughter.