Shades of Trust

by Cristiane Serruya

For a moment Barbara seemed lost in thought. Then she faced him and said, “Yes, I knew. When I first met you, and you treated me like a piece of meat, I was scared. Really scared. I had never had paid sex before, but it wasn’t so difficult. You’re a handsome, intelligent, wealthy man. Besides, I needed the money. Desperately. I had no other choice.”

  We always have choices. “Surely, you could apply for a secretarial job or—or anything else. But an escort?” A whore?

  She gave a bitter laugh. “Ethan, have you ever seen the lives of the ones you loved threatened?”

  No. But then, I have never really loved. He shook his head. Although Grandpa really tried, he was too involved in his own schemes.

  “I did it to save my mother’s life. My father was a gambler. In time, he became an alcoholic and an abuser. When he had money, he treated us very well. He would buy food and even take us out to dinner. When he was in one of his fouls moods, or losing money, it was difficult. There was no food, no clothes, nothing. As years passed by, things got worse. He began to steal my mother’s meager salary to keep his vices. Afterwards, mine too. He sold things from our home until there was only the bare minimum: a mattress, some plates, an old stove, and an even older refrigerator. In the end, he drowned in the Thames. We don’t know if he drowned because he was drunk or if he was killed. But the bastard didn’t settle his debts before going to hell. They came to us and gave us a month. I applied for many jobs. It was then that Scott miraculously found me and I became Sophia.” Her voice turned to a whisper. “They returned and I gave them all the money we had. They laughed in my face, took the money, and broke my mother’s arm. A reminder for us to be more diligent the next month. It worked. I asked you for the loan and paid them off. Then I stayed to pay you. After you handed me back the promissory, I stayed because I like you. Very much.”

  Jesus. Ethan didn’t blink or say a word. He was profoundly shocked by the story and how he had never deepened his interest. He knew she had to settle a debt and about her sick mother. But he never knew the hurt and pain that accompanied the woman who shared his bed.

  “My mother is fragile. She has been beaten all her life, but she never let my father touch me. Many times she took the punishment he thought I deserved. She never complained. I had no choice but to sell my soul to the devil.”

  She sold, I bought. Money. That’s what makes the world go round. Not really taking offense by her last sentence, Ethan threaded his fingers through her hair in silence, mulling over what he had been told. Then ever so gently, he breathed, “You’re a good daughter.”

  Her lips curled up. “She has always been the best mother.”

  How I envy you. “I’m glad you have such a good mother.”

  “Without your help—”

  No strings, Barbara. He stopped her with a raised palm. “No need to thank me again. You deserved every pound, every jewel, everything. I want you to answer one question with your utmost honesty.” He waited for her nod. “Am I a good lover? Do I treat you well?” Stupid, Ashford. What do you think she will answer?

  She smiled wanly. “You asked two questions.”

  I pay you very well; you can answer two questions. “Choose whichever you want.”

  “Well, Ethan,” her voice was sad and wistful, “you fuck very well. I’ve never had to fake an orgasm because you pleasure me, but you have never made love to me, not even when you started calling me by my name. The dresses, jewels, and money you give me are wonderful, but they don’t substitute love. So, yes, you’re a good lover and yes, you treat me well. Did I answer your questions?”

  He looked at her for a long time wondering why he was so flawed that a simple statement as the one she had just uttered couldn’t move him. I don’t know how to do any more than that. I was never taught how.

  She entwined their fingers and rose from the sofa. “Come back to bed. You have to wake up very early. A few more hours’ sleep will do you good.”

  I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to dream. I don’t want any woman in my mind.

  In those few seconds, as the thoughts crossed Ethan’s face, Barbara saw in him the same fragility and despair that she sometimes saw in her mother. “Come on, Ethan. I will be with you.”

  A little kid’s voice asked inside Ethan’s head, ‘Will you hold me in your arms?’

  He shook his head hard, not wanting any woman to hold him in her arms and yet yearning so much for it that it angered him.

  When they lay in bed, she covered them with the sheets and duvet, tenderly pulled him to her breast and wound her arms around him, her hands wandering softly over his broad back. “Sweet dreams, Ethan.”

  After Ethan slept, Barbara lay awake for a long time, wondering if she should ask him if they could start a whole new relationship; if there was any possibility that he could forget Sophia.

  She decided that it wasn’t worth it. She was aware he was incapable of real, normal love. She had understood that the love he felt for Sophia was different. It was a kind of worship.

  The kind of love that could only be ended with death. Or so she thought.

  Chapter 7

  Ashford Steel Industries

  10:00 a.m.

  Scott tried to stop Ethan when he arrived a few minutes before seven o’clock, but Ethan didn’t notice him. He was too engrossed in a talk with the Indian directors who had come to discuss a few implements to the branch of Ashford Steel Industries. They headed directly to the Greek Meeting Room and stayed there for hours.

  Scott was nervously mopping his head when Ethan came back from the meeting when Ashford’s CEO had taken charge of it.

  “Sir,” Scott called. “I need a minute of your attention.”

  Ethan looked at him with a pleased smile. “Of course, Scott. Come on in.”

  “I received a letter this morning. From we-know-who,” he whispered as he closed the door.

  It was then that Ethan saw the envelope in the middle of his desk with confidential stamped in red. He took a deep breath before opening the envelope carefully. Inside there was a copy of the birth certificate of Demetrius Oedipus Argeous. Under the mother’s name, Eva Argeous. Under the father’s name was written, unknown. Demetrius was born on March ninth, 1990, in Paris.

  Demetrius Oedipus Argeous. My son.

  There were many photos of various stages in the life of the now grown man. He had been a thin, shockingly small baby, a grinning and cute toddler, a rebellious teenager, and a serious man.

  Also, there were photos of his mother. So many photos that Ethan could almost feel the years sliding through his hands as he watched the changes of the first woman he had loved.

  Eve. Almost as beautiful as twenty years ago.

  She had married an older man a year after Demetrius was born. There was another birth certificate, where the father’s name was Louis Maurois, showing the old man had adopted Demetrius.

  Almost fifteen years later, she had become a rich widow and had continued to live comfortably in a chic Parisian suburb. No more work for rich Eva Argeous Maurois.

  The last photo showed a more mature woman. Although her skin was not so smooth, her soft chocolate-brown eyes were even bigger on her thin face, with the same innocence that had enchanted and hypnotized Ethan, but dulled as if saddened by the life she had chosen.

  Can my life get any weirder? A shudder went through his spine when he looked at Eve’s birth certificate and realized that she was really sixteen when she had been with him.

  He felt again like the shy, serious, and awkward teenager; the nerd who was ridiculed by the few friends that wanted to take advantage of his grandfather’s house and money; the ashamed and scared boy, who hid in his room with closed curtains, to forget that his parents didn’t love him. Again, it weighed on him that his first love was an underage whore; that his parents were abusing him again, and he still wanted the love of a woman who loved another.

  All falseness. All this is a trick, Ashford. Don’t fall for it. “Where is she now?” His voice was harsh an
d demanding. What does she want from me?

  “In Paris.” Scott didn’t know how Ethan would receive the news. “And—”

  “Dammit, Scott, spill it,” Ethan shouted, exasperated.

  “Ghost didn’t discover if her son is—” The word yours stopped in Scott’s mouth. The handkerchief was getting wet.

  “Mine,” Ethan finished smoothly, but it went down his throat rasping and set in his stomach like a stone. Better to face this once and for all.

  Scott nodded nervously. “I must tell you, sir, your parents are trying to contact her. They discovered she’ll arrive in London with her son in a few days.”

  No. He shook his head. No. Not this time, Calista. You’re not going to outsmart me. I have no son. I have no kids. I will not pass this curse on. Not even if I have to take drastic measures. He breathed deep. He was more intelligent than his parents, more cunning and wealthier.

  “Scott. Listen well. I have a very special mission for you.”

  In a split second, the nervousness passed and Scott’s eyes gleamed. “Of course, sir.”

  France, Paris, Orly Airport

  Saturday, November 20, 2010

  7:35 a.m.

  “I don’t understand you, mother,” Demetrius said to Eve in Greek.

  She looked up at her handsome son and her heart swelled with love. “I thought you’d like to visit England and Scotland.”

  “Yeah, but you took me around the world, and never took me there, even though I asked you to a few times.”

  Eve struggled with her confused feelings as they walked the corridors. “Long ago…I made a mistake there, Demetrius. A big one. Because I was immature, I—” She almost told him the whole truth. But she would never destroy her son’s life as her mother had done with hers when she sold her for a few drachmas to a pimp. “I never thought of the consequences of it. That is why I moved to Paris. Your father’s gentleness and love made me find peace within myself. It’s time to revisit old ghosts that have been haunting me.”

  In Ethan Ashford’s G650

  8:02 a.m.

  It had been a long time since Ethan had felt so unnerved. They had been delayed at Gatwick airport due to the intense air traffic.

  He closed his eyes and tried to relax, leaning his head back on the headboard of the bed, but it was no use. He had been feeling sick since the day before and hadn’t eaten since. He was attentive to all sounds and he could hear Vanessa’s voice outside talking to the captain. He had everything prepared and he knew it was a one-time chance.

  Calm down, Ashford. Everything is going to be as you wish.

  8:13 a.m.

  Ethan breathed deeply and opened the stateroom door a few moments after take-off.

  His gaze swept over the cabin and he found comfort in the familiar settings until his eyes stopped on the couple sitting on the sofa.

  Demetrius was wearing a navy suit with a blue shirt.

  Eve was dressed more conservatively than when he had met her. The hem of her light pink Armani skirt was knee-length and she was not wearing flats anymore, but black and white pumps.

  A strange dizziness hit him and he steadied himself on the door frame, not realizing he was hypoglycemic.

  “Eve.” Chic and fresh as ever.

  He saw her become deathly pale. He saw Demetrius turn to look at him with a ferocious look in his eyes, ready to defend his mother.

  “Ethan,” she managed to whisper his name.

  Demetrius whipped his head to stare back at his mother. “You know him?”

  She bobbed her head. “From a long time ago.”

  “Yes, it has been a long time. Maybe too long,” Ethan said, as he walked toward Demetrius with his hand stretched out. He is my spitting image. “How do you do, Demetrius? I’m Ethan Ashford.” Your father.

  “Demetrius Maurois.” He was already standing in front of his mother, protecting her.

  Ethan grinned, amused, and it suddenly astonished him to discover himself proud. He could never have thought he would be proud of a son’s behavior. “You raised him well, Eve.” You’re bearing no sons. Or daughters, for that matter. Calista’s lineage ends with you.

  “I did. How are you, Ethan?” Eve’s hand gently pushed her son to the side. She had managed to compose herself a little and rose to kiss Ethan’s cheek but she nervously babbled, “How handsome you’ve become.”

  He shrugged and motioned to the stateroom. “I’d like a word with you. You owe me this much.”

  She nodded, and with a reassuring smile to her son, she walked to the stateroom with Ethan right on her heels.

  Eve looked over Ethan, taking in all the changes. The shy, awkward teenager had become a confident man. “Why did you trick me?”

  Because you did the same. Many times. “It was necessary.” He leaned on the closed door and crossed his arms over his chest. “Sit, please. There is no need to be afraid. I just want to understand why.”

  Sorrow filled Eve. “I’m so sorry, Ethan. For everything. I shouldn’t—I shouldn’t have done—”

  “But you did.” His azure eyes blistered her and she lowered her eyelids, ashamed. The words escaped through his mouth as a torrent that couldn’t be contained anymore, “Now I have a son. A son that I didn’t see growing up; that calls himself by another’s name.” Eve’s eyelids shot up. “Now he is being used to blackmail—”

  “What? Blackmail? Who said Demetrius is your son?”

  He frowned confused. “Is he not? But the birth certificate—Nine months—”

  “No. He is not,” she interrupted. Regret and sadness filled her just as it had all those years ago when she learned she was pregnant. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t—” There was no way to soften the truth. “Demetrius is your father’s son. He’s your half-brother.”

  The blood rushed away from Ethan’s face and his arms lowered, circling the middle of his body as searing pain spread through it. He thought he would vomit.

  Instead, Ethan fell, hitting the floor, unconscious.

  “Ethan, please. Wake up.” Eve patted his face gently. She was scared. She couldn’t have imagined Ethan’s reaction. The worst thing she thought he could do was slap her, as he had done when he discovered she had been paid to be with him those six months.

  Demetrius had started pounding on the door as soon as he heard the noise, scared for his mother. She had rolled Ethan away from the door with great difficulty to let her son in.

  Ethan heard his name being called by a sweet voice he had never forgotten, which he had loved, and which had betrayed him deeply. More than once.

  He didn’t want to go back.

  All he wanted was to stay in his dark room where there was no pain, where no one could hurt him. Where the monsters that threatened him stayed outside. Where he ruled his own life and no one could intervene.

  But slowly the darkness receded and he blinked, his eyes adjusting to see Eve’s face watching him with a worried look.

  “Why?” he asked hoarsely. “Why, Eve? I did nothing to deserve this—”

  She cut in, with a desperate look in her chocolate eyes. “Do you want to sit? Something to drink? Demetrius, can you ask for a coffee, please?”

  “Yes, mother.” He jumped to his feet and exited the stateroom.

  Ethan laughed bitterly. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

  “Please don’t tell him,” she begged.

  “Don’t worry.” Ethan sat up and let out a deep breath.

  “He thinks his father died when I was pregnant,” she whispered as she heard her son coming back with Vanessa.

  Certainly George would be better dead. Ethan moved to the sofa. He rubbed his face, dejected, while his life got more surreal than he ever thought possible. “Vanessa, please bring me tea, some toast, and honey. I need to eat something.”

  After Eve had closed the door, he asked, “How come, Eve?”

  “Demetrius was born at seven months.” She sat heavily by his side. “I didn’t know that man was your father. It was very good mon
ey.”

  “An orgy?”

  “More or less. Your parents kept me for them. And…I had to do it, Ethan. When you’re underage in the hands of a pimp that supposedly is your father, you have no choice.”

  We always have choices. “But surely you were on the pill?”

  “When I left you, I got depressed and forgot to take it for many days.”

  “I got depressed and forgot to take it,” he parroted, ironically. “That’s rich, Eve.” Yes, blame me.

  “You don’t understand.” Eve looked at her hands. “You were nice...so gentle, Ethan. When you discovered and hit me, reality settled in. For those six months I was happy. I didn’t have to worry about food, money, or servicing more than one man per night.”

  It’s always about money. He scoffed. “Then it’s my fault you got pregnant. And by my father, no less.”

  “No. It’s just a very bizarre, cruel coincidence. As I said, I didn’t know.”

  I very much doubt it. He closed his eyes, thinking about what he was going to do now. As much as the whole situation revolted him, he knew it wasn’t her fault. Wait. Something’s wrong. “But how did you know who Calista and George Smith were?”

  “When my pimp discovered I was pregnant, he arranged an abortion and told me who the baby’s father was to force me to get rid of it because he knew I liked you.” She breathed deep. “When I realized the horror of the whole situation, I almost did it, but I was too afraid. I asked for your grandfather’s help. He paid my debts with the pimp, bought me my freedom, and sent me to Paris.”

  “So, you blackmailed Niarchos.”

  “Well…” She bowed her head for an instant and then raised it to look at him with pragmatism in her chocolate eyes. “Yes. He used me; I used him. He made me promise to never contact you or your parents anymore.”

  “But how did your pimp know, Eve?”

  “That was not difficult. Your parents live in a house called Ashford Mansion. Your parents and grandparents were always in the newspapers and magazines. These men know their scenarios. I named the little baby Oedipus so I would never forget what I had done.”