Entwined Fates
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 1
Entwined Fates
Cristiane Serruya
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, dialogues, and incidents involving them are drawn from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without the express written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book contains an excerpt of Dangerous Obsession, Trust Series #2, by Cristiane Serruya. © 2018 Cristiane Serruya.
ISBN-13: 978-1985205574
ISBN-10: 1985205572
Copyright © 2018 Cristiane Serruya
Cover by Book Cover Luv © 2018 Cristiane Serruya
Praise for Cristiane Serruya
“It was like reading Jane Austen or William Shakespeare but in modern English.” ~ M. Richardson
“Cristiane Serruya is exceptionally good at what she does.” ~ Dks
“…[Cristiane’s] story line: It gradually enfolds, gently enthralling the reader and touching heartstrings, captivating we romantics. Read and you will find another Nora Roberts in her heydays.” ~ Jonhaboutime
“Cristiane Serruya is a master of characterization. The depth of her characters is incredible. The intensity of the relationships will have the reader eagerly turning the pages.” ~ Readers’ Favorite
“…truly Danielle Steele Meets Fifty Shades, except the heroine is not as naive. Strong characters, mystery barely hinted at, and international intrigue. Keeps the reader riveted and hardly able to put the book down.” ~ Pat Harmon
“Serruya took me on an emotional roller coaster, with heartbreaking and heart-aching scenes...a story that flowed beautifully.” ~ Di
“Nora Roberts meets 50 Shades of Grey” ~ Paula Penteado
“…absolutely stunningly beautiful and emotional sexy romantic story by a wonderful writer with a terrific command of our language.” ~ Charles Smith
“Just when you think you know what is going to happen next, a twist so crazy that you could have never imagined it is thrown your way.” ~ For the Luv of Sanity
“…you can expect the unexpected.” ~ Musings from an Addicted Reader
Acknowledgments
Writing can be a lonely business so I am grateful for the most loyal and dedicated partners I have found in this path I am wandering, and here I thank them.
Edward M Wolfe, my amazing editor, who is always available; who chats, laughs, and cheers me; who explains all my doubts and answers asap all my emails, no matter if he has already eaten or not; during day, night, and weekends. You have a VERY special place in my heart.
Renata Fontanive and Lívia Forte, my faithful squires! Erm, I mean, my creative designer and my marketing assistant; for putting up with me as I harass you—and you don’t answer—even on Sundays.
Book Cover Luv, for the amazing cover!
My biggest thanks go to the hearts of my heart: my broad, six-foot-six, stubborn, loving husband, Raphael; and my dear daughters, Raphaela and Giovanna; who do hate when I say I have a new idea for a book but are patient with me when I am immersed and lost in my characters’ lives. I promise to pamper you all in double…until a new idea hits me.
Contents
Title page
Praise for Cristiane Serruya
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Dangerous Obsession
Chapter 1
Also by Cristiane Serruya
About Cristiane Serruya
To Raphaela, a hell of a daughter!
Your level of awesomeness is so high that it exceeded even my own expectations.
(Sorry, baby, couldn’t resist…)
Chapter 1
United Kingdom
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
A few minutes after midnight
London, Eaton Square
Sophia felt the evil approach her. Her head tossed on the pillow and her hands gripped the sheets. She knew there was no escaping the men.
No…
No.
NO!
A great pain tore through her heart, making her whole body convulse. She awoke from her own screams, her right hand gripping her scarred left arm, long nails digging in as the nightmare faded away, leaving nothing but a void in her mind.
She fumbled for her table lamp. Light flooded the room gleaming on her square diamond ring and wedding band.
She exhaled slowly and sat on the bed. She dropped her forehead dropped to her knees, which she drew to her chest, hugging herself.
Why?
Why can’t I remember?
She rose from the bed, donned her wrap and unlocked her bedroom door.
Padding silently to the living room, she looked at the photo of a tall, blond man, and fat tears fell from her eyes.
London, Park Lane
Ethan sat on the bed, resting his back against the headboard and pillows as he raked a hand through his brown sun-kissed hair.
The woman lying beside him on the bed sighed with pleasure and curled up against his strong thigh.
He studied the gorgeous brunette clinging to him and grimaced, disgusted with himself for having to pay for his sexual pleasures.
Why does she keep haunting me?
Why can’t I feel anything for a woman?
Why can’t I let myself be loved?
Scotland, Northern Highlands
The whip lashed across the woman’s back and she screamed.
A dark smile spread over Alistair’s rugged features. His arm descended again and again and again, raising red, angry welts on the woman’s skin.
> The sound of leather against skin, feminine screams, and heavy masculine breathing filled the room.
He threw the whip away, turned the woman on the bed, and thrust into her as he tore the blindfold away.
Blue eyes stared adoringly at him. And the memory of another face masked the one in front of him. The face of a dead woman who had robbed him of what he had considered most precious.
Rot in hell.
An incredible anger surged through him and he grabbed her long blonde hair in his hands, yanking her head back.
One more whore.
One more to torment me.
Is this what I really want?
Chapter 2
London, Heathrow Airport
Thursday, October 15, 2009
7:00 a.m.
“I’m so sorry, madam. Your flight to Switzerland has been cancelled. There is a red flag for a snowstorm that will hit London full force in a few hours.”
“Then transfer me to an earlier flight. For God’s sake, we’re at Heathrow!”
“You don’t seem to understand. All earlier flights are full. I can reimburse you or re-emit your ticket for another day.”
“Listen, I have to go to Geneva or somewhere near it, today,” Sophia said. “It’s urgent.”
“I’m sorry, there is nothing I can do.” The attendant turned to answer another passenger’s complaint.
Ethan halted mid-stride and scanned the beautiful woman standing at the airline counter. A wicked smile formed on his lips. Elbowing his friend and lawyer, Leonard, he whispered, “My lucky day, Allenthorp.”
“What?” Leonard stopped.
“I’m going to offer a ride to that damsel in distress.” Ethan discreetly pointed with his thumb at the young five-foot-six woman on his right. “See the sexy one over there, with long black hair?”
“Oh, come on, Ashford. We’re heading to one of your most important meetings and all you can think about is screwing a woman?” Leonard scowled.
“Allenthorp, I have to give you some lessons on mixing business and pleasure.” He stalked up to the woman.
“Excuse me. I couldn’t help listening to your conversation with the attendant. I’m heading to Geneva. If you want a ride, I can help you solve your problem.”
Sophia half turned at the sound of the voice and was rewarded with the view of a large chest and broad shoulders immaculately dressed in a tailored dark blue suit, crisp white shirt, and blood-red tie.
She craned her neck to look at the man’s face, from where mesmerizing eyes of startling Mediterranean-sea blue were staring at her. A white, perfect smile slashed his tanned, bearded features. His light brown sun-kissed hair was neatly cut and combed back.
Such azure eyes. “Pardon?” she said.
“I apologize. I am Ethan, Ethan Ashford. Nice to meet you, Miss…” A wolfish smile curled his lips.
Oh, damn. Ashford Steel Industries. “Mrs. Santo. Mrs. Sophia Santo,” she answered, eyeing Ethan with clear distrust.
“So, Sophia.” Her name left his lips as a caress. “Care to accept my offer?”
“A ride?” The offer astonished her. Why? What do you want? She stepped backward and bumped into someone. She heard a loud bang as two hands grasped her arms, steadying her.
She spun on her heels and saw another man, a little older, shorter, and leaner than the first but no less interesting. He had an easy smile, kind blue eyes, and dark blond hair, graying at the temples. Leonard Allenthorp, ‘The Lawyer Duke’. A chill ran through Sophia’s spine as she leaned against the counter flanked by the two men in front of her. “I’m sorry.” Has Alberto discovered me?
Leonard bent down and picked up his briefcase. He stretched out his hand in a friendly way, saying, “It’s okay. Leonard Allenthorp. How do you do? What my friend said is that we’re heading to Geneva in ten minutes, in a private jet, and if you’re interested, we’ve got space for you. A free ride.”
Sophia took a deep breath, gathering courage. As she was well aware, everything in life had a price but she needed to get to Geneva today. She shook the outstretched hand, smiling a little, trying to relax. “Thanks. I accept.”
“It will be my pleasure,” Ethan’s baritone voice purred from behind her,
“Shall we go?” Leonard made a small gesture with his hand. “We don’t want to meet the snowstorm in midair.”
She put her Chanel bag on her shoulder and caught the handle of her carry-on.
“Do you want help with your luggage?” Ethan offered.
“No, but thank you.” She watched Ethan surreptitiously as she walked between the men. He had the inborn firmness of those who know how to achieve things in life. His clothes were perfectly tailored to show off his strong body; it was clear he was a man who demanded perfection, even from himself.
On her other side, Leonard kept pace. Almost as tall as Ethan, Sophia knew he was about to turn thirty-five. She’d just read an article about him in the Sunday Magazine. His clothes were also expensive; however, he wore them in an effortless way.
“I have to thank you for the ride.” Sophia smiled at Ethan. “I should have imagined that something like this could happen. We’re having such terrible and unstable weather this year.”
“Yes, we are,” he agreed. “Have you kept abreast of the floods in northern England?”
Sophia nodded.
“Awful, isn’t it?” Leonard said quietly. “My brother-in-law had serious problems on his property.”
At passport control, Ethan quirked an eyebrow at Sophia when she didn’t follow them. She just smiled back. He shrugged and followed Leonard.
The police officer did his work quickly and handed the passport back to her with a big smile, saying with a heavy British accent, “Bom dia.”
Sophia grinned back, saying, “Obrigada.”
Ethan eyed her document with interest when she tucked it back in her bag and motioned, “This way, Sophia.”
They went through an empty corridor. Downstairs and outside the building was a new silver-and-black Gulfstream G650. Next to the carpet on the tarmac by the stairs, the captain waited to welcome them.
At the top of the stairs, a flight attendant smiled and greeted them. She picked-up the overcoats, Sophia’s carry-on and put them away.
Sophia walked past single seats that faced each other, noticing how every detail had been chosen with care. Halfway down the aisle, there was a four-place mahogany conference table with double seats on each side. She sat on the one next to the window, putting her bag on the aisle seat.
Leonard leveled a look at her and smiled as he noticed the maneuver, seating himself opposite her.
The seats were handcrafted with black leather mixed with white-and-gray hues. It was very masculine and subtly stylish. The inside of the airplane resembled its owner.
“Mr. Ashford, may I fix you your drinks?”
“What are you drinking, Sophia?” Ethan politely asked.
“Water. Sparkling, thank you,” she said.
“The same for me, Ashford,” Leonard added.
“The usual for me, Vanessa.” He leaned on the table, two big hands flattened, to look at Sophia. “Want a tour before takeoff?”
“A tour?” She eyed him, amused, a playful smile on her lips, looking at the rear of the aircraft, where a three-seat black divan with silk pillows faced a mahogany credenza topped with a wide-screen plasma TV. “What for?”
“I can show you the cockpit, all the modern technologies at hand, as in a fully functional office, and the stateroom…” His eyes flashed as he nudged here in a husky voice. “…It’s quite comfortable, Sophia.”
Sophia laughed to hide her embarrassment. “No, thank you. I’m good here.”
He stared at her for a moment, but said nothing more, easing his six-foot-three stature back in the seat beside Leonard.
The flight attendant served the water and a tomato juice for Ethan, put some mixed nuts and canapés on the table between them, then vanished from the cabin.
The
captain announced takeoff his voice smooth and elegant.
“Portuguese, aren’t you?” Ethan said.
She laughed, shaking her head.
“No?” He looked puzzled. “But your passport…your answer to the officer…”
“So?” She shrugged, and saw that Leonard was paying attention to the conversation. “Let’s see if you can guess where I’m from, one chance each.”
“Three each,” Ethan argued.
“Uh-uh. One.”
“Two,” countered Leonard.
“Hmm,” she mused. “The odds might turn against me.”
“What’s the prize?” Ethan asked hoarsely. “A dinner with the winner?”
“No winner. Let’s settle for lunch, us three. Deal?”
“Deal. Please, call me Ethan.”
“Let’s see…” Leonard said. “Not Portuguese. Although with a Portuguese passport. With clear Latin heritage. Based on your looks I’d say you’re…Italian. But it makes no sense…”
“Good. Very good. But, no! And you can’t take it back.” She turned to Ethan, waiting. “A hint. My passport has nothing to do with where I was born.”