There was nothing left for me in Sophie’s room, so I slowly made my way into the hall. My legs felt weak as I walked. My head was spinning, but my heart finally slowed down. Nothing felt real. It was as if I was trapped inside a nightmare, and I couldn’t wake up.
As I passed by Sophie’s office, I realized Sophie hadn’t just left me. She left her job behind. I’d brought her here for one reason: to work.
I pushed open the office door and stepped inside. What did this mean? If Sophie took off before her job was finished, then the deal was off. Rick was no longer in the clear. I could call the police, press charges, and have him arrested.
The thought sent a sick satisfaction coursing through my veins. Picturing Rick being carted away in the back of a cop car was an image I wanted to hold onto. After losing Sophie, I longed to do something active. To hurt Rick the way he’d hurt me. Not only was he a thief and a traitor, but he’d taken away the one woman I ever thought I could love.
My eyes roamed around Sophie’s office. A pit formed in my stomach. A part of me had hoped she would be in the office, sitting behind the desk with her hair pulled over one shoulder. She wasn’t. She was really gone.
As I moved toward the desk, my eyes fell on a piece of paper taped to the computer. Sophie’s handwriting was visible even from a few feet away. I ran forward and pulled the paper off the computer, my eyes scanning it quickly.
“Andrew,” it read. “I’m sorry to leave this way, but I don’t know what else to do. I can’t stay here now. Not after what happened last night. I resolved your financial problems. The money that went missing seven years ago was moved to a separate account only in your father’s name. I found the account number and left it for you below. If you can gain access to that account, you’ll find enough money to balance your books. There are a few other ways you can save money. I’ve listed those below as well. I hope this helps you and fulfills my father’s debt. Now that I’ve helped you, please leave us alone.”
It was signed “Sophie” and nothing else.
I gripped the paper tightly in my hands and closed my eyes. My anger was gone. I couldn’t feel anything other than a deep-seated loss. My heart ached inside my chest. My stomach felt empty and heavy at the same time. I hated everything about Sophie’s note, everything about this screwed up situation.
It took me a while before I could move again. Sophie’s note was still pressed against my palm as I made my way out of the office. I didn’t bother to look over the notes she’d left. Work was the last thing on my mind.
“Mr. Andrew?” Liam asked when I stepped off the last stair. “Are you all right?”
“No, Liam,” I said simply. “I’m not.”
Without another word, I walked away from my butler. I didn’t know where I was going. My office was out of the question. I couldn’t bear the thought of being in that room. Instead, I wandered outside. I didn’t stop until I reached the stables.
Amy hadn’t yet arrived. The stables were empty, and all the horses were silent in their stalls. My feet led me toward Gemma. She was Sophie’s favorite. My mind was blank as I stroked her coat and tried to come to terms with the fact that I would never see Sophie again.
28
Sophie
I worked all night. Sleep would have been impossible anyway. My brain was fried, and by the time I left Andrew’s, I could feel my body threatening to shut down. I was exhausted. My arms felt like lead and my feet like concrete. I dragged myself out the back door, hoping Andrew wouldn’t hear me leave. I knew the front door was too close to his bedroom. No matter how quiet I was, he would hear me. I slipped out the back and ran to my car, not stopping until the keys were in the ignition and the engine had roared to life.
I sped away from Hopper mansion without looking back. Andrew couldn’t have stopped me if he saw me, but I knew he would try. His anger was probably stronger than ever. The last thing I wanted was to face him. Not yet. And not ever again.
As exhausted as I felt, going home wasn’t an option. My head was still spinning from the revelation of my father’s thievery. Despite Andrew’s insistence that my dad was at fault, I still couldn’t believe it. My father was a good man, a kind man. He had all the money he’d ever need. There was no reason for him to steal, let alone from the son of his lifelong friend.
My foot fell heavy on the gas as I drove toward my father’s house. It was early, too early for a visit, but I didn’t care. We needed to talk, and this time, I wouldn’t leave until I knew everything. My father wasn’t going to talk his way out of an explanation. I refused to let my emotions get the better of me. It was time for me to know everything.
When I pulled into the driveway, the sun was just beginning to rise. It peeked over the chimney, falling directly in my eyes and making me wince. I was so tired, so ready for sleep, that I almost laid my head back against my seat and closed my eyes. It would have taken me no time at all to fall asleep. After a night of working nonstop, not even coffee could have revived me.
But the prospect of finally getting the truth was enough to keep me awake. I pushed open my car door and hurried toward the backdoor. It was locked, but I stuck my key in the door and shoved it open with a loud bang. I didn’t care if I woke my father. I didn’t care if I scared him.
“Dad!” I yelled, closing the door behind me and hurrying into the living room. I looked up at the stairs and screamed again. “Dad!”
“Sophie?” Dad called from upstairs. His voice was muffled and distant. He’d been asleep. Seconds later, I heard his thunderous footsteps as he ran down the stairs.
“Dad,” I said when I saw him. “We need to talk.”
He was still wearing pajamas, and his hair was disheveled. His face was flushed from being so rudely awoken, but I felt no sympathy. My ability to feel sorry for him was all but gone. If any part of Andrew’s story was true, then my father wasn’t the man I thought he was.
I’d defended him endlessly just hours before, and yet, when my eyes locked on his, I was furious. I could barely stand to hold his gaze as he moved farther into the living room, his eyes searching my face.
“What are you doing here so early?” he asked, worry coating his voice. “Are you okay? Did Andrew do something? Did he hurt you?”
“No,” I said quickly. “No, I’m fine. Well, I’m not fine.”
“What did he do?” Dad demanded. His eyes flashed. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you stay there. I knew he couldn’t be trusted. After everything, I never should have let you stay with him.”
“Dad!” I snapped. “Stop.”
He fell silent immediately. His eyebrows pulled together as he tried to work out why I was so upset. My cheeks felt hot. I knew they were bright red, and I was certain my eyes were bloodshot from being up all night. The lack of sleep was catching up to me.
“Honey,” Dad said slowly. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“That’s what I’m here to ask you,” I said. “I want the truth, Dad.”
“The truth about what?” Dad asked.
I shook my head and moved to the couch. My legs couldn’t support my weight any longer. I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I fell onto the couch and put my head in my hands, trying to calm down enough for this conversation.
“Sophie,” Dad said. He sat down across from me. “You’re scaring me, honey. What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Andrew told me about that night,” I said, looking up at my father’s face. Fear flashed through his eyes. “He told me that you broke into the Hopper mansion. He said you were there in the middle of the night, in his study.”
Dad didn’t speak. I expected him to deny it immediately, to say that Andrew was crazy and that he would never do something like that. Instead, he just stared at me in wide-eyed horror. I shook my head and stared back. Was this really happening?
“He told me you were there to steal something,” I continued. “That he found you in his office, digging through his crates.”
My father’s head fel
l forward. I couldn’t see his eyes anymore, but I knew tears were forming. His shoulders shook. I felt a surge of pity rise inside my chest. I pushed it down quickly. There wasn’t time for that. Not now.
“Dad,” I said firmly. “Look at me.”
He slowly lifted his head. His eyes fell on my face, and I knew that Andrew never lied to me. My father wasn’t the man I thought he was. He broke into Andrew’s house. He tried to steal from the Hopper family. Andrew’s story was true.
“Oh my god.” I stood up quickly, unable to remain still. Part of me wanted to run away. I felt like a scorned child. Everything I thought I knew was a lie.
“Sophie, please let me explain,” Dad said. His voice was weaker than I’d ever heard it.
“What is there to explain?!” I yelled. “You tried to steal from him, Dad! He should have called the police! He should have had you arrested!”
“He wanted to,” Dad said. “He was seconds away from doing exactly that.”
“But you offered me up instead,” I snapped. “You used your own daughter as a way to buy yourself out of trouble. What were you thinking?!”
“I wasn’t.” Dad shook his head, tears streaming down his face. “I was out of my mind that night, Sophie.”
“Dad, I don’t even know what to say.” I turned away from him. There weren’t words to describe how insane this situation was.
Just hours before, I would have sworn to anyone that my father was innocent. Andrew Hopper was wrong. I was sure of it. He misread the situation, and instead of listening to my father, he lashed out like a spoiled child. I would have gone to the ends of the earth to protect my dad’s name, his reputation.
Now, I didn’t know what was real. My dad was no longer the pillar of morality that I once believed him to be. He was a thief, just like Andrew said.
“How could you do this?” I asked weakly. “How could you sink so low?”
“When your mother died,” Dad said. “Something changed inside of me. I became a different person, someone I didn’t recognize.”
“We both did,” I said. “That’s what happens when you lose someone you love, Dad. But I never stole from anyone because of it.”
“My heart was broken,” Dad said. “Trashed. I didn’t think I would ever feel okay again.”
I stared at him. His hands were shaking in his lap, and he couldn’t meet my eyes. He felt horrible about what he’d done. The look on his face was almost enough to soften my anger. Almost.
“What were you there to steal?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. “What was so important?”
“It’s an antique compass,” Dad said simply. “Just an old compass. It’s not worth any money. Maybe a few bucks at the most. It wasn’t made properly. It’s very old. Just an old compass.”
None of this made sense. Why would my father risk his life for an old compass? What if Andrew was armed? What if Liam was?
“You could have been killed,” I said softly. “Dad, I could have lost you, too. How could you risk that? All for a compass?!”
“When your mother and I were first married,” Dad said. He finally lifted his eyes and met my gaze. “We went on a vacation together. We swore that we wouldn’t work, that we would just enjoy each other’s company for an entire week. But when we got to Greece, we found out about this dig a few miles away from our resort. It was right there, so we went. Neither of us could resist.”
He paused and shook his head, fresh tears falling down his cheeks.
“It was incredible,” Dad said. “We’d never been on a dig together. I’d gone countless time before, so had your mother. But this was our very first expedition as a couple. I’ll never forget the look on her face when she saw that compass.”
Dad’s voice broke. He wiped his eyes impatiently and forced himself to continue.
“She loved it,” Dad said. “I don’t know why. It was old and broken, horribly beyond repair. And yet, that was the one thing your mother wanted. She said she saw the hidden potential in it. I thought she was crazy, but I couldn’t deny her anything. Not then. Not ever.”
He looked at me as if he were waiting for me to speak. I didn’t. My throat felt tight.
“Sophie,” Dad said. “Your mother loved that compass so much. She kept it for all these years, and when she died, Hopper Antiquities accidentally took it. They came to the house to collect the things I wanted to sell. Do you remember? You were here that day.”
I nodded. It was just a couple months after my mother passed. Several Hopper employees spent all day poring over different artifacts.
“I didn’t want to sell the compass,” Dad said. “Like I told you, it’s not worth anything. I don’t know how it got into the crate, but it did. When I realized it was gone, I knew it could only be in one place.”
“Why didn’t you call Andrew?” I demanded. “He would have given it back to you.”
“I’m sure he would have,” Dad said. “But at the time, I couldn’t think straight. Sophie, all I wanted was that compass. It felt like the only piece of your mother that I had left. The night I realized it was missing, I lost my mind. I tore this house apart looking for it. I was terrified that it was gone forever.”
He looked away, staring out the window and trying to get ahold of his emotions.
“I drove to the Hopper mansion in a blur,” he said. “I wasn’t myself. I don’t even remember how I got inside. I just know I found Andrew’s office and tore open the first crate I saw. The compass wasn’t there. Before I could check the other crates, Andrew found me, and well, you know the rest.”
Dad stared down at his hands. My throat was so tight that I didn’t trust myself to speak. My eyes burned, but I blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. As I watched my father, my anger faded into sadness. I was right about one thing, this was nothing more than a horrible misunderstanding. A mistake made by a desperately broken-hearted man.
29
Andrew
Two Months Later
Liam stood off to the side while I drank my coffee. A plate of French toast went uneaten in front of me. I rarely ate breakfast anymore. By the time lunch rolled around, my stomach was a pit of emptiness that had to be filled. I would scarf down something filling without tasting it. Food no longer interested me. Not much did.
“Can I get you more coffee, Mr. Andrew?” Liam asked.
“No,” I said firmly.
“How about a banana?” Liam pressed. “Something to put in your stomach before you get to work.”
“I’m fine,” I said.
“Mr. Andrew, I worry about you.”
“I said I’m fine,” I snapped, jerking my head up to glare at Liam. His eyebrows knitted together, but he fell silent all the same. He knew arguing was the worst thing he could have done.
We’d been playing this game for two months. Ever since Sophie left, my life had returned to normal. At least, that was what it seemed like from the outside.
I worked day and night. I slept the second my head hit my pillow, waking up before the sun each morning. Meals were quick and only meant to sustain me. I didn’t enjoy anything or anyone. The only people I spoke to were Liam and my clients. Even the Hopper employees knew not to bother me unless it was via email.
My mood was worse than ever. Before Sophie came into my life, I was a workaholic. But now, it was more than that. I couldn’t bring myself to focus on anything else. I didn’t care about anything else.
“I’ll be in my office,” I said, pushing away from the table.
Liam nodded. He didn’t speak. He just watched me walk away with concern in his eyes. I knew he was worried about me, but just like everything else, I didn’t care.
I disappeared into my office and closed the door with a snap. Finally, I could be alone to sulk and work. I threw myself into my job, enjoying the monotonous tasks that kept my mind occupied. If I allowed myself too much free time, I thought about Sophie.
Her face floated through my mind so often that I worried I’d never forget her
. Those green eyes, that light brown hair, her petite stature, and curvy figure.
I daydreamed about her lips more often than not. I remembered how it felt to feel her lips pressed against mine, and every time I let myself, I got hard thinking about being inside of her.
It wasn’t often that I allowed my thoughts to get that far. Sophie broke me when she left. She took my heart and tore it from my chest. Now, I was nothing more than an empty shell. I went through the motions of my life, taking one day at a time but never truly feeling alive. Most of the time, I didn’t even feel awake. It was like my entire life had become a dream.
Just before lunch, my office phone rang sharply. I frowned and stared at it. My employees knew never to call me.
“This is Andrew Hopper,” I said as I pressed the phone to my ear.
“Mr. Hopper,” the voice said. “I’m calling on behalf of a client.”
“Which client?” I asked.
“They’ve asked that I keep their name private,” the woman said. “Is that all right?”
“Sure,” I said, frowning with confusion. “How can I help you?”
“You’re in possession of an old compass,” the woman said. She described the piece quickly. “The client wants to purchase it from you as soon as possible. They’re offering three thousand dollars.”
“For a compass?” I blinked.
“Yes,” the woman said. “Is that price acceptable?”
“I need to locate the compass before I can agree to anything,” I said.
“Take your time,” the woman said simply.
“Please hold.”
I put her on hold and then pulled up the catalogue on my computer. Every piece in our collection was in the system with a picture and an accurate description. The price estimate for the compass was just under one hundred dollars.
Fair Trade For Love: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance Page 18