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“The same reason I gave you that first night we met. I’m the worst thing that can happen to you.”
“How? You’ve never explained that statement.”
I stared at her not saying anything. She couldn’t be serious.
“Well?”
“I don’t let go, Sophia. Once I claimed you, there was no escape. You run, I will catch you. If you hide, I will find you. You joked that I was a psychopath. When it comes to you, you have no idea how accurate you are.”
And on top of everything else, all I’d brought was chaos to her life. If it wasn’t my obsession with her, my need to protect her, Randolph wouldn’t have targeted her for all the tabloid scandals of the last few weeks. Then whoever murdered the jackass wouldn’t have the ammunition needed to set Sophia up for his murder.
She set a hand on my chest and parted her lips as if to say something, but she held them back when I shifted my body in front of her and focused on a pair of familiar faces at the far end of the room.
What were Henrietta Stanford and Rico Newman doing here? They were textile and interior designers I’d worked with in the past. They specialized specifically in wallpaper and window treatments for large scale building and interior home design projects. The last place I ever expected to see them was at a fashion industry event.
Sophia turned in the same direction and asked, “What are you looking at?”
“Former business acquaintances.”
“Why do I feel you aren’t very fond of them?”
“Because I’m not. They’re a couple who don’t show loyalty or discretion.”
“Let me guess, they spilled information about one of your projects.”
“They had access to a confidential project and then revealed information about the development to one of their clients. A week later, a reporter published an article about it in a national publication.”
“How did you retaliate?”
“I didn’t.”
“Bullshit. You’re Lucian’s best friend. I know you did something.”
I smirked. “I haven’t given them any more of my business or referred them for other jobs.”
“In other words, you had them blacklisted.”
“I haven’t said anything good or bad about them to anyone but you. We haven’t crossed paths in well over three years.”
“Let me guess, you plan to go say hello.”
“Why not? We are here to mingle and investigate. Might as well chat with a pair of loose-lipped individuals.”
“Oh, you want me to tag along while you play sleuth?”
I took her hand in mine. “I want you near me the whole time.”
We weaved our way through the crowd. Every so often, someone would call Sophia’s name, and every time, she nodded her acknowledgment and kept pace with me. To the average person looking at her, she seemed friendly yet aloof as she passed. However, I noticed the tightening of her lips, making it very evident she’d prefer not to engage with those people in any capacity.
Then there were those we walked by who made snide or derogatory comments as if we couldn’t hear them about Sophia being a jailbird or wanted criminal. It had taken all of my willpower not to grab the offenders and clock them in the face.
However, Sophia kept her head up, seemingly unfazed.
The way Sophia constantly handled this bullshit spoke to her stamina in this world of excess I’d never comprehend.
As we neared my quarry, I studied them. Henrietta Stanford and Rico Newman wore high-fashion attire in line with those around them. Gone were the conservative suits they favored to broker business for their textile design company. They fit well in this environment, and from how they socialized, they were well acquainted with many people around them.
It looked like they’d branched out into the glamorous side of design after I stopped taking their calls. However, it made me wonder why they hadn’t pursued other lucrative real estate development clients outside my circle. The industry was thriving, and there was a great demand for those with experience in textile design.
