Samuel looked my way, but his gaze was unfocused, and he was leaning heavily on the girl at his side. I doubted he’d be able to fuck her, much less remember a single thing of tonight in the morning. “Keys?” he slurred.
Gritting my teeth, I closed the door behind me and unlocked the door to the guest bedroom. Samuel gave me a drunken grin before he stumbled inside with the girl. He’d either be busy for a while or pass out.
I returned to my bedroom where Sofia was still exactly how I’d left her. I was really starting to worry about her, but calling a doctor, even if it was my most trusted man, didn’t sit well with me—and it was against Sofia’s explicit wish.
I had to find out what had happened. “Are you alone?” I asked in a low voice.
For a moment, she looked at me blankly.
“At the party,” I added. It was highly unlikely that she was alone. Carlo had mentioned that Sofia would be spending the weekend at the Mione lake lodge nearby, but I had been busy with work and party planning and hadn’t paid much attention.
She bit her lip, obviously weighing her words, her fingers fumbling with the covers.
Someone had gotten her here. She avoided my eyes. Sinking down beside her, I nudged her chin up but quickly pulled back when she tensed. Fuck. I was such a goddamn asshole.
“Where are your bodyguards? And how did you get here?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Then I’ll have to call your father.” It was the last thing I wanted to do, but honor dictated it. Sofia was his daughter and had run away from her bodyguards and found me at this party. I didn’t ask her why she’d sought me out, why she’d worn that blonde wig and used her sister’s perfume. I knew, and it made my guilt burn all the fiercer. Sofia wasn’t stupid. She wasn’t as naïve as I’d thought—had wished she was—but I’d have preferred it didn’t take this to make me realize it. My anger had overshadowed everything else, had made me act without considering what my actions might do to my young fiancée. I’d been lost in my need to get revenge, to fuck the anger out of my system.
Sofia’s head shot up, her eyes widening in shock. She pushed up, wincing, then clutched my arm. “Please don’t. They can’t find out.”
Her hand trembled. She was my responsibility. It was my duty to protect her, and I’d failed. How many more people would I fail? “Then tell me how you got here. Tell me who helped you.”
She swallowed. “You have to swear not to tell on them.”
I might just kill whoever was responsible. “You know that’s not something I can promise.”
I could see her walls coming up. She wanted to protect the person. So, it had to be someone who was close to her. Samuel was out of the question. He was extremely protective of her and would have never allowed her out of sight. No one else from her family, either. That left one of her friends. I stood and pulled out my phone, calling Carlo. He took the call after the second ring. “Who guarded Sofia today?”
“We did in the afternoon but in the evening, Santino took over.”
“Don’t leave Sofia out of your sight ever again, understood?”
“Yes, boss.” I ended the call and turned back to Sofia. She perched on the edge of the bed, one arm wrapped around her middle. She looked small and lost, and my guilt slashed me deeply over and over and over again.
Anna Cavallaro and her goddamn bodyguard. It made sense. Anna had always seemed like such a good girl, but it was all probably just for show. If she had her father’s cunning, tricking people into believing whatever she wanted wouldn’t be a problem.
Sofia wrung her hands, her eyes lowered to her lap. “I’m not taking the pill yet. I’ll start in a few days . . .” She shuddered violently.
I moved closer and sank down but made sure to keep my distance. “I didn’t come,” I said. Slash. Slash. That burning whip of guilt. I hadn’t even been halfway inside of her, but of course she didn’t know that. She’d been too tight, her body not ready for the assault. She was innocent, and I’d tried to fuck her against a tree like a cheap whore. “And I used a condom.” Because I thought she was a random girl out for a fuck, a meaningless fling to relieve my anger. Not my fiancée. Pietro and Samuel would gut me if they found out, as they should.
“Thank you,” she said automatically, then her brows drew together, as if she realized how little sense those words made.
She was in shock, no doubt, and maybe in need of medical treatment, but I respected her wish. “Where are Santino and Anna now?”