SOPHIE & THE DUKE 🔞

Chapter 9

Gio

4months later

I glanced at the pictures scattered across my desk, an angry glare in my eyes. Alfonso had hired a private investigator to track down Sophie after her disappearance four months ago. No one knew her whereabouts. They had managed to locate her house, where we discovered that Sophie was adopted at the age of six months , having been left alone on the streets. Moreover, she was denied the opportunity to finish college due to mistreatment by her foster mother and sisters.

"So, are you telling me she has vanished from the face of the earth?" I exclaimed, my fury clenching my jaw.

"We are doing our best, your grace," he reassured, emphasizing their commitment to finding Sophie.

"You may leave. I will call upon you when needed," I dismissed him, watching as he bowed and exited.

Taking a seat in my office chair, I flexed my arm. I needed to see her, not only to apologize for my rudeness but also because I yearned for the brief intimacy we shared. I scoffed at the difficulty I had encountered in finding satisfaction elsewhere for over four months. My body refused to respond to anyone or anything except the memories of our passionate encounter at the Villa.

It was merely physical, nothing more. Perhaps I could propose she become my mistress. Yes, that was the logical choice.

My sheets felt cold, and I craved release. This prolonged absence of intimacy was unprecedented for me. How could that woman have done this to me? Was she using some kind of enchantment? I desired her more than anything—an addiction specific to Giovanni Arcardi, the Duke of Castro.

I would make her my mistress, and once I grew tired, I would discard her and fulfill my duty of marrying one of the women chosen by my mother, solely for the purpose of bearing children—nothing more.

I couldn't love anyone, love was for the weak. I had resigned myself to a fate devoid of love, convinced that it was a sentiment reserved for the weak. I vowed never to become a vulnerable man again, not after witnessing the tragic demise of my beloved sister, Anna. She had been consumed by a love that remained unrequited, a love that ultimately led to her untimely demise.

The wounds inflicted by Anna's loss were too deep to be spoken of within the confines of our grief-stricken family. Seven long years had passed since that fateful day when she, just eighteen years old, was tragically taken from us. Each member of our family clung tightly to the memories we shared with her, as if holding onto them would somehow preserve her essence within our hearts.

Throughout the years, I had developed a cynical view of love, perceiving it as an ephemeral emotion that held no intrinsic value. Its power had proven to be destructive, capable of tearing lives apart and leaving behind an unfathomable void. I guarded myself against its intoxicating allure, determined not to succumb to its whimsical grasp.

Love, or what I had perceived it to be, had become a distant concept, a notion that held no sway over my thoughts or actions. I had crafted a shield of indifference, shielding myself from the vulnerability and potential heartbreak that accompanied such sentiments.

I rose from my chair and stared out the window of my towering skyscraper, contemplating my resolve. I would find Sophie and bring her back to Italy, making her exclusively mine.

She would be my mistress, answering only to me and my desires.

One month later

"Your grace, she has been found," Alfonso declared, his voice carrying a mix of urgency and relief. He presented me with a series of photographs capturing Sophie's image, and as my eyes fell upon her, I noticed a notable transformation. In one picture, she stood in front of a quaint bookshop, adorned in a flowing sundress and a voluminous jacket, clutching a shopping bag in her arms. Another photo revealed her tending to a garden in the place she now called home.

A surge of relief coursed through my veins as I gazed upon her familiar face. My Sophie.

In an attempt to alleviate my frustrations, I had ventured into a rather unconventional pursuit—I decided to acquire one of the NBA clubs based in Atlanta, a whimsical indulgence born out of a need for diversion. It seemed fitting to immerse myself in something seemingly unrelated to matters of the heart. The Americans, with their insatiable appetite for wealth, had eagerly embraced the opportunity to benefit from my financial resources.

As I delved into the intricacies of owning a professional basketball team, a newfound sense of amusement and excitement began to take hold. The grandeur of the sport, the roaring crowds, and the passionate energy that reverberated throughout the arena offered a temporary reprieve from the emotional entanglements that had consumed my thoughts.

With Sophie's discovery, a surge of anticipation coursed through my veins. It was as if the newfound thrill of owning an NBA club was perfectly timed, coinciding with the prospect of reuniting with the enigmatic woman who had captivated my attention.

"We traced her whereabouts to South Carolina, your grace. She has been residing there for the past five months," Alfonso informed me, grounding me back to reality. His tone remained neutral as he disclosed an additional piece of information. "Furthermore, I discovered that she is pregnant. She regularly attends appointments at the local hospital."

My head snapped up in an instant, my emotions spiraling into a tempestuous whirlwind. "Pregnant," I uttered through clenched teeth, my jaw tensing with anger.

So, the wretched little harlot has found herself with child, I seethed within the confines of my mind.

"Does she reside with anyone, perchance a man?" I inquired, my voice laced with an unmistakable venom.

"No, based on our findings, she lives alone but has a consistent male visitor who frequents the bookshop and occasionally visits her residence," Alfonso divulged, providing me with the information I sought.

"Stupida cagna," I muttered under my breath, my fury intensifying.

"Prepare my private jet immediately. Instruct my secretary to cancel all forthcoming appointments. I have an urgent matter to attend to," I commanded, a sense of purpose infusing every word as I abruptly rose from my seat, striding purposefully out of my office. There was no time to waste—I needed to make the necessary preparations and witness these developments firsthand.