Pandora's Box (59 page)

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Authors: Cristiane Serruya

BOOK: Pandora's Box
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“There you are.” The fuzzy image on the screen cleared, showing the embryo. He pushed a button and a loud and unbelievable quick drumming beat sounded in the room. “Alive and kicking.”

The moment took Alistair’s breath away.
What more could I ask? Thank you, God!
He leaned over to Sophia with tears running down his face and kissed her. He murmured on her lips, “Our baby.”

“Our baby,” with a trembling smile, she whispered back the same words.

John explained that everything was as it was supposed to be at this stage, confirming Sophia was eight weeks pregnant and the due date was November thirteenth. He finished the exam quickly and gave Sophia some tissue to wipe off the lubricating gel as he turned on the lights. “So do you two want to know the sex of your baby?”

“Yes,” they said in unison.

He smiled a soft smile as if he had expected the answer, pulling an envelope from his lab coat and opening it. “Baby boy.”

Sophia looked at Alistair with a smug grin. “I knew it.”

He took her face in his hands and gently kissed her and murmured against her lips, “Of course you did,
mo gràdh
.”

John scheduled the next appointment, said goodbye and left the room thinking that having a child was surely the most beautifully irrational act that two people in love could commit.

 

4.02 p.m.

Sophia could see for herself that she was bruised from head to toe. She was stiff and sore, and if she moved too quickly, she wanted to scream in pain. She ran the towel slowly over the many black-and-blue spots avoiding the mirror but it finally caught her eyes.

She stared at her image, incredulously, the reflection no longer one she recognized. The girl she remembered at sixteen, full of life and hope, or the more mature woman that was overflowing with love had both disappeared. The woman that was staring back at her may as well have been dead if only there weren’t a life flickering from somewhere deep inside her, struggling to be reflected in her eyes.

“Sophia? Are you okay? Do you need any help?” Alistair asked from the other side of the bathroom door.

Okay? Help?
The world spun around Sophia, tilting off its axis. Everything she’d known and believed in for the last three years had been destroyed in the brutal doubt and fear that were suddenly at her door again. She opened her mouth to speak but only a moan left her.

Alistair busted through the door and took her in his arms. “Sweetheart, let me help. You don’t need to do it all by yourself. You don’t need to prove anything.”

As he unfolded the baby-blue soft merino dress he brought for her to leave the hospital, she thought of how appropriate it was.
Baby-boy. My little warrior.

She surrendered to his care and let him dress her and skillfully tie a blue-and-white scarf around her bandaged head as if a turban.

“There. You look beautiful.” He kissed her forehead. A light, warm kiss to melt the ice around her heart.

I can allow this lie.
She patted her scarf. “How did you do it?”

“I’m talented.” He shrugged.
I saw my mother do this too many times.

 

Inverness Airport.

6.15 p.m.

Edward called, informing Alistair that Calista and George hadn’t wasted time and their story had been sold to the highest bidder. Now, Ethan’s will, Sophia and her foundation were making headlines on all major news channels.

Sophia, Alistair and Tavish managed to sneak out of the hospital in an ambulance. Carolina, disguised as Sophia, and Felipe, surrounded by bodyguards, got off by the front door to distract the reporters and headed to a hotel. They entered, registered and after a few minutes left in another car by the rear door.

Nevertheless, news that there was an ambulance heading to the airport leaked and spread like wildfire.

A crowd of journalists had assembled at the entrance of the airport with their bright lights, cameras, microphones and cell phones waiting for her. Not even the security cars, the ambulance or a line of policemen and airport security were able to keep them away.

“Of course they’d want a piece of me.” Sophia gripped Alistair’s hand as though she were afraid of drowning. She shook her head, still not quite ready to talk about the subject in public. “I can’t talk to them yet.”

“So, don’t.” Tavish looked at her completely without judgment.

“You deserve another medal, my lord general,” she whispered tenderly. She checked the turban that covered the bandages on her head. “I’m not ready, I can’t tell about my... That I was…” She couldn’t voice what had happened to her. “They will invent stories about Ethan and me.”

“Aye, they will,” Alistair concurred. “So? Don’t let it get to you, my love. Ashley has already made an announcement. Give yourself some time. You’ve been through a lot.”

From inside the ambulance, she squinted out at the sea of eager faces, people for whom her trauma and Ethan’s death equaled their paycheck. She could almost hear the camera shutters clicking, could see the video cameras trained on the ambulance door waiting for her to step out.

I cannot allow it. Ethan gave me much more than money to my Foundation, he gave me his life.
“They want the meat, not the bones. They don’t want Ashley. They won’t leave us alone. Hungry, murderer paparazzi. They’ll flock to wherever we are. I don’t want them near us, near Gabriela.” She inhaled, gathering her courage. The ambulance inched forward, opening a path through the throng until it was crawling.
Screw them.
“Tavish Uilleam, please ask the driver to stop as soon as he crosses the airport gates. I’ll keep it simple.”

“What?! You’re not fit—” Alistair started as Sophia cut drily, “I am. Tavish Uilleam, order the ambulance to stop.”

As if waiting for Alistair’s permission, Tavish looked at his brother, however, he endorsed her opinion, “You know, Sophia is right. A small and sharp announcement and a few photos of her for their first page will keep them away from Craigdale.”

Alistair rolled his eyes heavenward, nonetheless he knew Sophia and his brother were right. “Okay, then. Inform Steven, Zareb, the police and airport security. I’ll go out first.”

 

“Lord Ells.” Several voices shouted together, running on a loop as soon as Alistair opened the ambulance back door. “Why was Lady Ells kidnapped? How much did you pay? Why did Mr. Ashford leave everything to her? How did he die?”

Steven and Zareb left their car and approached; the police and airport security surrounded and made a tight barrier between the journalists and Alistair. Only then Tavish helped Sophia out of the ambulance.

The questions got even louder and frantic.

Alistair put an arm over her shoulders, bringing her closer and raised his other hand. His deep, commanding voice resounded over the excited voices as he looked at the journalists from his towering height. “Ladies. Gentlemen. Lady Ells is still in recovery as you can see. She’ll make a quick statement and answer no questions.”

Microphones and phones all jutted forward, but a thin, parched woman shouted, “Lady Ells, can you explain why were you held in Mr. Ashford’s dungeon? Were you having an affair with him?”

Sophia saw red. She wanted to scream at the woman but instead she breathed deep and kept her voice even and steady, but made no effort to hide her contempt.

“Such a low class is the press. Slanderers, exercising
free will
,
independent thought,
not for the satisfactions of their readers, but for its own greed. You’re no better than little gossipers and I’m sure you find sadististic pleasure in the unconstrained and untrue
news
you publish on other people’s private lives. You’re a distasteful and ridiculous band. That’s what the press looks like when it feasts on the death of a good man: tasteless, provocative, and offensive. Nothing more than vultures!” She felt Alistair squeezing her shoulder as she began to lose her composure.
Breathe, Sophia!
“In the unlikely event that anyone does care about the truth,
no
, I was not having an affair with Mr. Ashford. I had the immense pleasure of being his close friend and working with him to help women and children in India and China. About his will, all I can say is that he didn’t leave a single pound to
me
. He benefitted those who were loyal to him during his life as he saw fit, and what was left is to be reverted to Sophia Leibowitz Foundation for Women and Children. I must say that Ethan Ashford was a great man, who made a big difference in the lives of those he had contact with, including me. Thank you for your bloodthirsty quest and ever disrespect with the humanity of the victims.”

The babel of probing questions, more evil, started up again, but ignoring them, Sophia turned her back and flanked by Alistair and Tavish, Steven and Zareb, she walked to the waiting airplane, as the police and the airport’s security held back the excited journalists.

 

Over the Highlands, In Alistair MacCraig’s G650.

7.01 p.m.

Sophia sat silently beside Alistair on the sofa, her hands spread over her stomach, almost dozing.

Alistair’s thumb stroked the top of her hand gently, as Carolina, Felipe and Tavish sat talking quietly in the middle set of seats.

She shifted a little, pressing closer to him, and he moved, stretching his long and strong legs out, pulling her delicately onto his lap, his arm supporting her back.

Sophia put her face in the hollow of his neck. She breathed deep, smelling his warmth and familiar perfume.
Supreme Alistair Connor.

His hand fluttered over her head, as if intending to stroke her hair and moved to frame her face. She shuddered.

“It’s going to be okay, Sophia,” he said in a low voice, and she felt his voice rumble in his chest. “I promise you this.”

She felt so tired she could have almost slept there, just as long as he kept holding her and didn’t let go. But she knew she couldn’t. Her mind was still fuzzy and there were many things she didn’t know yet. Most of all, she wanted to see Gabriela.

“Alistair Connor,” she breathed.

“Hmm?”

She could hear the exhaustion in his voice. She opened her eyes and could just see the black cotton of his long-sleeve shirt, and the way it moved as he breathed. “What are we going to say to Gabriela?”

Chapter 34

 

Craigdale Castle.

7.38 p.m.

Sophia saw her grandmother rushing down the stairs outside Craigdale with an agility she didn’t know Angelica still possessed.

“Grandma,” she whispered and released Alistair’s hand to embrace her grandmother tightly.

Angelica was so moved that uncontrollable sobs left her throat.

“It’s okay, Grandma. I’m okay,” Sophia told her, patting her back.

Angelica’s voice was shaking when she whispered, “I thought I would lose you, my dear, my baby.”

“Our Sophia is a tough girl, Angelica,” Lachlann put a comforting, calming hand on Angelica’s shoulder, but Sophia saw his lips trembling, before opening into a moved smile.

“Yes, she is. But I’m not anymore. I wouldn’t stand losing another loved one.” Angelica released a shuddering breath and wiped her eyes with a white lacy handkerchief. A quivering smile crossed her face, when Lachlann embraced her granddaughter as tightly and as long as she had done.

“Welcome back, my dear,” he said, more controlled than Angelica. “Come. Gabriela is waiting for you.”

As Sophia walked inside, she could see the twins holding hands with a smiling Gabriela in her Tinker Bell pajamas and slippers.

The three of them shrieked at the same time.

I love these twins.
Alistair smiled at his blonde sisters-in-law. They had been a great help, protecting Gabriela and creating all kinds of mischief to distract her.

“Mama, Mama!” Gabriela screamed, happily.

Gabriela! My angel, my love!
Sophia wanted to shout her joy out loud but she just fell on her knees, not caring if the marble floor would make a few more black-and-blue marks on her already injured body. She opened her arms and her daughter threw herself in them, giving Sophia one of her neck crushing hugs. She loved it when her child tried to hug her so hard she could barely breathe. Hugs like that made her day.
Don’t cry, Sophia. Don’t cry.
In a husky voice, she whispered, “Hello, Angel. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Mama. You didn’t tell me you’re going away on a trip,” said Gabriela with a small pout, stepping back. She tilted her head to the side, her blue eyes taking in the scarf that covered her head and her bruised face. Her little hand stretched out and touched Sophia’s face. “What happened, Mama? Did you make a booboo?”

Sophia’s throat clogged. She felt Alistair kneel down beside her.
Oh, God!
In a barely audible voice, she explained, “Yes, Angel. I’ll tell you the story, okay?”

“It’s going to be a bedtime story, Fairy.” Alistair flung Gabriela up in the air and caught her in his arms as she squealed and giggled, giving Sophia time to compose herself, kiss and embrace her younger sisters. “Your mother is going to tell you all about her adventures in a faraway land, okay?!”

 

Sophia tucked the blanket around Gabriela and sat on the bed, leaning onto Alistair’s chest. “So, that afternoon, as I was waiting for you and Alistair to come home, I saw a dragon outside our house.”

Gabriela’s sky-blue eyes opened wide. “A dragon?”

“Mmm-hm. A huge, huge dragon,” Sophia moved her hands in the air, showing the size of the dragon, “with red eyes, blue and green scales, enormous wings and a long tail. He was up to no good: he ate all the narcissuses and drank all the water from the pond. When I saw that, I was very, very angry.”

“Like when I misbehave?”

Sophia smiled. “No, Angel. Like when Alistair, the Beast, gets angry.”

“Wow!” Gabriela giggled as Alistair grunted loudly.

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