“Sophia.” I said her name and the image of her standing in front of me a few nights before flooded my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut and brought a hand up to rub at them, trying to make the image disappear.
Saying all of this was more difficult than I thought it would be. I stopped pacing and kept my back to Emma. When I finished the story, I wouldn’t be able to look at her face and see her expression as I told her what kind of man I truly was.
“He presented her to me on my birthday, tied to a bed and blindfolded.” I heard her gasp behind me, but I kept on, trying to get it all out. “That was the second time my life changed. From what I know now, I was being bred to join the business John was a part of, a business Donicko ran. A business that dealt in selling girls.”
I bowed my head and stared at the floor as I got to the point and continued to speak.
“Sophia became my constant. We were both trapped in Hell with no way of knowing how to get out of it. She became my everything.” I scrunched my brows together as the words came out. “So many things held me back from just walking her out of the house. I had too many things going against me, and John knew I wouldn’t put Sophia in danger. She was already in enough.” I ground my teeth as the memories came back to me. “They took advantage of my love for her. My need to keep her safe.”
I let out a heavy breath and continued.
“In order for me to save the one person I cared most about, I had to help with their endeavor. Something I wanted no part of, but I felt like I’d had no choice.”
I lifted my head and looked at the wall, placing my hands on my hips.
“I lured girls to a lifetime of Hell to save one,” I scoffed at myself and shook my head. “All that time, I knew there would be a chance that they’d go back on their word and keep Sophia anyway, but I had hope. I wanted it to be true. But that was also taken away.”
I finally turned and looked at Emma. Her mouth was partially hanging open, eyes wide with shock.
“I don’t understand. Are you being serious?” She stood from her seat and brought a hand to her forehead.
I looked away from her and nodded, unable to see the panicked expression on her face.
“Mason, my sister works for John, and she’s had an affair with Donicko.” I could hear the panic in her voice. “Are you telling me she’s in danger?”
I turned toward her and lifted my hand to calm her, making sure to keep my distance.
“No, she’s too well known for them to do something like that.”
“I-I need to leave.”
The panicked expression was still on her face, and I moved to block her from leaving.
“Listen to me, Emma.” She stopped, but she didn’t bring her eyes up to look into mine. Instead, she stared at my chest, mouth set in a straight line. I didn’t blame her for not wanting to look at me; I didn’t want to look at me, either. “This information is going to be out in the open soon. I couldn’t keep it in any longer. You might still have questions, but this is what you needed to know. I’m not a good person. My past is far from pretty, and we all need to pay for what we’ve done.”
I lifted a hand and ran it through my hair, speaking my next words carefully. “You say you like me more than you should, but do you like me now that you know me? This is my darkest secret. This is the man you’d have to see every day,” I stated, gesturing to myself.
She shook her head and a tear fell down her cheek.
“I need to go,” she said through her tears.
I moved to the side and watched her walk out of my life. I knew it would come to this. I knew she would walk away and fuck, I didn’t blame her. I couldn’t stand living in my own skin, so how could I wish for someone to stay with me after knowing what kind of person I truly was?
I stood there for a few more minutes, thinking about how much my life was going to change within a matter of days. The decision to air my dirty laundry didn’t come easily, but after seeing Sophia trapped in her own mind, I knew I had to do something, something I should have done a long time before.
I walked into my office and headed toward my desk, grabbing the scotch along the way. The pain I felt in my chest was the reason I’d stayed away from any sort of connection.
Another loss to add to my list.
Taking a seat at my desk, I grabbed a glass and poured some scotch. I had no idea what the outcome of my actions would be, but I was willing to accept it.
Grabbing my phone, I slid my finger across the screen with the intention of calling Victor, the only person I knew who could defend me, when I saw I had a missed call with a voicemail. I dialed it to listen.
“Mason, it’s Phil Morison. I received your email. Give me a call as soon as you can, day or night.” I listened as he read off his phone number and jotted it down.
Phil Morison happened to be Steve Morison’s dad, part-owner of one of the prestigious newspapers in New York.