53. Sofia
Chapter 53
Sofia
The phone rings, Viktor's name flashing on the screen. I hesitate, my finger hovering over the decline button. But I can't avoid him forever.
"Hello?" I answer, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Sofia, bella! I've missed you," Viktor's smooth voice fills my ear. "Have dinner with me tonight. Please?"
I close my eyes, weighing my options. The smart thing would be to decline, to keep my distance. What if Carlotta and Ettore call? They could need me at any time, day or night. I need to keep my schedule free.
But something tugs at me, an inexplicable pull I can't ignore. Viktor is Viktor. I do enjoy his company and besides, Carlotta and Ettore haven’t gotten into any trouble recently. They’ve been managing fine at the motel.
And if I don’t go tonight, Viktor might truly begin to suspect something. In fact, from how often he calls, I think he already does. I don’t want him to think I’m not interested in him.
"Alright," I hear myself say. "What time?"
"Eight o'clock. I'll cook for you myself," he says, excitement evident in his tone.
As I hang up, my stomach twists with excitement. A night with Viktor might just be what I need to get my mind off things.
Hours later, I'm standing at Viktor's door, smoothing my dress with trembling hands. He opens it with a dazzling smile that makes my breath catch.
"Sofia," he breathes, pulling me into a warm embrace. "You look stunning."
His touch sends sparks across my skin. I step inside, immediately enveloped by the aroma of garlic and herbs.
"You really cooked?" I ask, arching an eyebrow.
Viktor grins, leading me to a beautifully set table. "I told you I would. Only the best for you, cara mia."
Candles flicker, casting a soft glow over the elegant spread. A bottle of my favorite wine chills in an ice bucket.
"This is... impressive," I admit, trying to ignore the flutter in my chest.
"I wanted everything to be perfect," Viktor says softly, pulling out my chair. “We haven’t spent time together in a while.” As I sit, his fingers brush my shoulder, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
I can't help but smile, despite the nagging voice in my head warning me to be cautious and on alert, should my friends need me tonight. "You've outdone yourself, Viktor."
He beams, pouring the wine with a flourish. "Shall we?"
As we clink glasses, I find myself relaxing, laughing at Viktor's stories of all that’s happened this week at his work. I never thought financial services could be this exciting!
As we savor the last bites of Viktor's surprisingly delicious osso buco, a flicker of movement catches my eye. The TV in the corner of the dining room, previously muted, now blares to life with breaking news. My heart leaps into my throat as Carlotta's face fills the screen. Viktor puts up the volume.
"In a shocking development, Carlotta Vero, daughter of prominent businessman Salvatore Vero, who had been reportedly kidnapped, is still not home. She’s been missing for over four months now," the anchor announces, her voice dripping with barely concealed excitement. “Just today, Italy’s chief of police is set to meet her father and fiancé. Talks of involving the Mossad is in play.”
I grip my wine glass tightly, my knuckles turning white. The room suddenly feels too small, too hot. The chief of police? The Mossad? Hiding will only get harder for us all.
I force myself to take a slow, deliberate sip, desperately trying to maintain my composure.
Viktor's eyes dart between me and the screen, his brow furrowing with concern. "Sofia," he says softly, reaching across the table to place his hand over mine. "I'm so sorry. This must be incredibly difficult for you."
I swallow hard, meeting his gaze. "I... I can't believe it," I manage to choke out, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue. But then again, I can’t exactly tell him I know where they are.
"How are you holding up?" Viktor asks, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of my hand. "I know how close you and Carlotta are. Like sisters, you once said."
I take a shaky breath, my mind racing. How much should I reveal? Nothing. It’s best kept that way. "I'm... I'm scared for her," I admit, allowing a tremor to enter my voice. It's not entirely a lie – I am terrified for Carlotta, just not in the way Viktor might think.
"Of course you are," he murmurs, his eyes softening with sympathy. "Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?"
For a moment, I'm tempted to confide in him, to unburden myself of this crushing secret. But the weight of Carlotta's safety holds my tongue. While I might trust him, can I trust him enough not to let the information accidentally slip to someone dangerous? I force a weak smile. "Just... being here helps," I say, hating how vulnerable I sound.
Viktor squeezes my hand gently. As he gazes at me with such apparent concern and affection, I feel a pang of guilt. If only things were simpler.
“What worries you, sweetheart?” he asks gently.
I lower my eyes, feigning vulnerability while my mind whirs. "It's just... I can't help but worry about what's happening to her. Where is she? Could she truly have been kidnapped?"
Viktor's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. "I've heard some...rumors," he says, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "About Ugo Caputo, her fiancé."
My heart skips a beat. I force myself to meet his gaze, my expression carefully neutral. "What kind of rumors?"
He leans in closer, his cologne enveloping me. "Let's just say he's not the upstanding businessman he pretends to be. There are whispers of...unsavory dealings. Dangerous connections. And he’s not known to treat women with respect."
I swallow hard, playing the part of the shocked friend. "You don't think...you don't think he had something to do with Carlotta's disappearance, do you?"
Viktor's eyes flicker with something I can't quite read. "Actually," he says slowly, "I have a different theory. I don't think Carlotta was kidnapped at all."
My pulse quickens. "What do you mean?"
"Think about it, Sofia," he says, his voice low and intense. "Carlotta was set to marry Ugo, a man twice her age with a questionable reputation and abusive patterns. And then there's Ettore..."
I hold my breath, waiting for him to continue.
"I think," Viktor says, "that Carlotta and Ettore planned this together. I think they've run away."
My mind races. Is this a trap? Or does Viktor genuinely believe this version of events? I force a look of stunned realization onto my face. "You...you really think so?"
Viktor nods, looking almost relieved. "It makes sense. Carlotta escaping a loveless arranged marriage with the man she truly loves?"
I bite my lip, torn between the urge to defend Carlotta and the need to maintain my cover. "I... I suppose it's possible," I concede, my voice barely above a whisper.
As Viktor continues to explain his theory, I can't shake the growing unease in the pit of my stomach. How much does he really know? And, more importantly, whose side is he truly on?
“And so,” Viktor finishes. “I think they did the right thing. It is better for her to be happy with a man who will treat her right than to be wed to Ugo Caputo. Kudos to her if they did run away together.”
Viktor's compassion for Carlotta's situation seems genuine, and I find myself wavering. Could I have misjudged him? His dark eyes hold mine, filled with what’s clearly a sincere concern.
"I can't imagine how worried you must be for Carlotta," he says softly, reaching across the table to take my hand. His touch sends an unexpected jolt through me. "But if I'm right, she's safe with Ettore. He'll protect her."
I swallow hard, torn between my instinct to trust Viktor and the nagging voice of caution. "You really think so?" I ask, allowing a hint of hope to color my voice.
Viktor nods earnestly. "I do. Ettore is a good man from what I’ve heard, despite what others might say. And he clearly loves Carlotta."
My heart races as I consider confiding in him. Maybe, just maybe, he could help ensure Carlotta's safety and help me get them out of the country. I open my mouth, on the verge of revealing everything, when a sharp buzzing cuts through the air.
Viktor's phone vibrates on the table, and the screen lights up. My blood runs cold as I catch a glimpse of the caller ID: Ugo Caputo.
"I'm sorry," Viktor says, reaching for the phone. "I should take this."
I force a smile, but inside, my suspicions flare to life with a force unlike anything before. My intuition now yells at me to shut the hell up. Get out of here.
It all comes back to me. All this time, Viktor has wanted to know about Carlotta. Was this theory his or one he already knew? Is he working with Ugo Caputo?
Holy shit. He’s working with Ugo Caputo. That’s the only reason he’s calling Viktor. This man I’ve been seeing is only close to me because he wants information on my best friend.
My heart breaks at having been used, but there’s no time for tears. Things could get dangerous, real fast. I need to leave asap.
I feel my pulse quicken as Viktor silences the call and puts the phone on the table face down. Pushing down the panic rising in my throat, I plaster on my most charming smile.
"Oh, don't worry about it," I say, waving my hand dismissively. "Actually, I should probably get going. It's getting late, and I have an early meeting tomorrow."
I rise from my chair, smoothing out my dress. "Thank you for dinner, Viktor. It was lovely."
Viktor's brow furrows, a flicker of something – disappointment? frustration? – crossing his face. "Are you sure? We haven’t even finished our meal."
"I'm sure," I reply, edging towards the door. My instincts are screaming at me to leave, but I force myself to move casually. "We'll catch up again soon, I promise."
As I reach for my purse, Viktor stands abruptly. "Sofia, wait-"
I turn, my guard up, ready to make a dash for the exit if needed. But I'm not prepared for what comes next.
In a blur of motion, Viktor's hand swings towards me. There's a sickening crack, and pain explodes through my skull. The world tilts sideways, darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision.
My last conscious thought is of Carlotta. I've failed her. As I crumple to the floor, I pray to whatever gods might be listening that she remains safe, even if I can't protect her anymore.
Then, mercifully, everything goes black.