Chapter 247
Sophia turned to leave, but Ethan Roscente's fingers closed around her wrist like a steel trap.
His eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "What are you hiding from me, Sophia?" His voice could freeze hell itself.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Fresh blood seeped through the bandage on his forehead. The torn sleeve of his designer suit glinted cruelly in the sunlight. Even disheveled, the man radiated lethal elegance.
"You seem in quite a hurry." His gaze pinned her like a butterfly to corkboard.
Sophia clenched her fists.
The $45 million debt pressed against her ribs like a boulder. This man could solve her problems with a snap of his fingers—but the cost would be her soul.
Isabella Valentine's wedding date loomed closer each day. Asking Ethan for help meant stepping into quicksand.
"Don't flatter yourself." She wrenched her arm free, voice brittle. "I have an appointment."
"Sophia!"
She didn't look back.
Ethan's expression darkened. Zachary Evans materialized at his elbow, murmuring urgently.
"Confirmed?" Ethan's pupils dilated.
"Beyond doubt. Miss Lowell couldn't possibly raise that sum in ten minutes."
A mirthless smile curled Ethan's lips. "Trying to escape me?" His knuckles rapped the car window. "Dream on."
Zachary vanished like smoke.
Outside the ER, Sophia scrolled through her contacts with shaking fingers. Theodore Orlando's name glowed on the screen—her last hope.
The phone vibrated violently. A loan shark's number flashed.
"The deadline hasn't—" Her voice cracked.
"Mr. Roscente settled your debt in full." The thug's tone dripped newfound respect. "Your aunt is already en route home."
Sophia froze.
"Miss Lowell." Zachary's voice came from behind her. "Mr. Roscente requests your presence."
Inside the black Maybach, Ethan exhaled a lazy smoke ring. Through the haze, he watched his prey approach. Victory tasted sweeter than the Cuban cigar.
The door opened. A wave of tobacco assaulted her senses.
Sophia's stomach lurched. Pregnancy had stolen her tolerance for the scent she once found intoxicating.