Page 74 of Nobody's Girl

Chapter Thirty-Four

“Hey, sugar lips.”

Ivo chuckled. “That’s a new one. Look, I have one more appointment and I’ll be home, baby.”

“Good. You have some more mood boards to okay.” Sofia laughed, but Ivo couldn’t help notice there was something else, an edge to her voice.

“You okay?”

“Absolutely fine. I’ll see you later.”

Ivo hung up, something shifting inside him, an unease building. He put his phone away and smiled at his colleague. “Sorry, what were we saying?”

An hour later, he took the Metro back to the apartment. The evening was falling and all was setting in, a sharp breeze making the fallen leaves start to jump and dance. Ivo stopped to buy Sofia some peaches from a market stall then took the stairs up to the penthouse apartment.

He knew it was empty as soon as he walked in. It echoed with emptiness. “Sof?”

No answer. He walked from room to room, but she was nowhere. Maybe she had just stepped out for some food or…

Her sketchbook, which always sat on the kitchen countertop was gone. Ivo didn’t know why he felt panic rush through him – it could be anywhere in the apartment but as he searched again, he saw several of her most prized possessions were gone. He ran to the bedroom and checked the closet – her clothes, her practical jeans and t-shirt uniform were gone, as was her backpack.

Io didn’t understand. A cold draft hit him then and he noticed the doors to the balcony were ajar. He pushed them open and stepped out. Sofia’s mood boards were resting, side-by-side, against the stone balustrade, not covered in ideas for décor, but on every inch, plastered with the photograph of him kissing that strange woman at his mother’s funeral – or rather, her kissing him.

“Oh Jesus, Jesus, no…” Ivo was about to leave, desperately to find Sofia, when he noticed the one photograph that wasn’t like the rest. The woman was still the same but younger but it was the rest of the people in the shot that made his heart stop…especially the youngest, most beautiful girl and the woman who was undoubtedly her mother. Ivo stared at the photograph of his wife, her late mother and the family they had married into, and knew without a doubt that the woman he was kissing in the photograph, was Tamara Rutland.

Ivo ran down the stairs out into the street and screamed his wife’s name. But there was no answer.

Sofia was gone.

Chapter Thirty-Five

“Do you have her?”

Grant Christo looked over to the sleeping woman next him on the plane and smiled to himself. “Oh yes, I have her.” He heard Tamara’s soft laugh.

“Good.”

The flight attendant glared at him then and he hung up, giving her an apologetic look. “Sorry, all done.”

The attendant looked appeased. She nodded to Sofia’s sleeping form. “Would she like another pillow?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” Grant needn’t tell the attendant that with the strong sedative he had drugged Sofia with, she wouldn’t notice if she was sleeping on a rock, she’s be out until they landed in New York. The attendant brought the pillow and Grant dutifully tucked it under Sofia’s head. She didn’t even stir. Grant swept a lock of black hair away from her face and pressed his lips against the soft skin of her cheek.

When she had burst out from the apartment, tears streaming down her face, her movements jerky and uncoordinated, Grant had known how easy this would be. Bumping into her, he’d acted the concerned friend, trying to make her go back to the apartment, until she’d begged him to take her to the airport. When he had insisted on accompanying her, she resisted but gave it. After they’d boarded the plane, she had told him that she just wanted to go to sleep and he offered her an Ambien. Of course, what he gave her was much stronger, would make her more pliable when they reached the States. She’d still not told him why she had been so upset, but, of course, he knew. Tamara’s photo was all over the internet. The betrayal Sofia felt was written all over her face – she looked utterly broken-hearted.