Chapter 4 Building Trust

I take a deep breath, and my fingers tighten on the doorknob. Cold under my fingers, the glass reflects the chill in my chest. Though I am no stranger to his strength, today feels different. I want solutions. I have to understand what is beyond the façade, the meticulously crafted picture he has created around himself. Stepping into the known space, I force the door open. The sleek, polished furnishings, the cool, contemporary lighting, everything of it feels colder now. Kendrick, his back to me, gazes out the window, city lights throwing long shadows over his face.

You wished to meet me? Though my heart is pounding, my voice is calm. He turns slowly, gaze fixed on mine. Sofia. I was hoping for you. I don't flinch, although I would like to. He looks unrelentingly. The tension between us crackles like static in the atmosphere. "I have to understand why you are hiding stuff from me," I say, moving forward. Kendrick, if you're concealing information, you can't expect me to trust you. Honesty has to be the foundation of this, whatever it is between us. Though his lips twitch with the ghost of a smile, it does not relieve the crushing tension. "Honesty?" Overwhelmingly, he approaches closer. "You believe, Sofia, that you should know all?" I squint. I merit responses. I merit respect. He gazes at me with a combination of annoyance and humour. So you believe I have been insulting you? I stop, the gravity of his inquiry setting in. "Indeed. I believe you are exploiting me. All of this, this contract, this... whatever it is you want from me, isn't simply business, Kendrick. It's private. And I have to understand why. Kendrick's face becomes more serious. With his jaw tight, he first opens his mouth and then shuts it. "Sofia, I never meant to harm you," he grumbles, his voice quieter than I had anticipated. "I want you, though." I want you more than I have ever wanted for anybody else. The words are weighty and thick in the air. That leaves me speechless. I'm caught in the tension, the tug between him and everything I believed I knew about him. He breaks the moment by stepping back. You can either support me or you can oppose me. The following several days are a haze. I try to remain concentrated, attempting to keep my thoughts on the work and not the guy who appears to be always on my mind. But I can't help it. Kendrick's shadow hangs over all, even my own thoughts, the choices I make, and the actions I conduct in Blackwell Enterprises. I want clear thinking. That leads me to start digging. I sift through anything I can find, make calls, and extract files. The more I search, the more my stomach turns. This business, Kendrick's participation in its prior transactions, seems odd in some way. The darker the mysteries the deeper I go. Then I discover it. A paper trail leading directly to Mason. His name continues coming up connected to dubious transactions, under-the-table trades, and a list of people who ought to have stayed away from Blackwell Enterprises. Staring at the file in astonishment, I recline in my chair. This is the time I have been waiting for; the time the reality of Kendrick's empire starts to come apart. But rather than feeling relief, a cold, creeping fear sweeps through me. I feel a weight on my chest and a sense of betrayal constricting around my heart. Mason's participation. Kendrick's quietness. The years-old buried lies. I no longer know who to trust. The phone interrupts my musings. Hi? I despise it; my voice shakes. The voice on the other end says, "I hope you're ready to face the truth." It's warped and unrecognisable. Still, I can feel a chilly shudder down my back. What do you mean? Mason is more involved in this than you believe. Much deeper than that. What about Kendrick? He's not the guy you believe. The niggling doubt eating at me won't go away. I want solutions and I know where to find them. But the nearer I approach Kendrick, the more difficult it is to distinguish the man from the entrepreneur. Though I can't tell how far back they go, I'm beginning to notice the fractures in the facade. My heart racing, I go to his office. Though I'm finished letting him dictate the story, the last few days have been full of distance and irritation. Why not inform me? I say, my tone cutting. Kendrick looks up from his desk, his gaze inscrutable. "What should I say?" You know just what I mean. What I discovered. The untruths. Mason's been playing me this way. The rising rage in my chest burns. You should have told me why. Rising slowly and walking around the desk, he moves purposefully. I was safeguarding you. From everything. From those. "Guarding me?" I say again, incredulously. Kendrick, you have been exploiting me. You have been exploiting me for your personal benefit, and I am sick of it. He halts in front of me, near enough for me to sense his breath on my skin. "You believe I am unaware of what this is doing to you?" His voice is low and intense. I never meant to harm you. I wanted you, though. This business, this empire, it's larger than both of us. My throat is constricted and I shake my head. You still haven't said the truth, though. He moves in closer, locking his gaze on me. Perhaps I never will. Perhaps the reality is not something you can bear. My heart pounds as I turn away. Kendrick, if so, why am I still here? Why do I still battle for you? He doesn't respond right away, but his gaze softens. For a short while, I notice something more in him. Something genuine. Sofia, you are the only one who can rescue me. Frozen in the centre of Kendrick's office, I feel the weight of his words hanging between us. Trying to understand what he just said, my heart races and my pulse beats in my ears. His admission breaks the thin barrier I have spent years constructing between us. Kendrick's voice is low, raspy, almost imploring as he says, "I never wanted to hurt you, Sofia." His look is intense and desperate, holding mine. I did what I had to do. But I need you to trust me right now. Allow me to show it to you. Let me correct this. Swallowing hard, I battle the oncoming feelings about to overwhelm me. I want to scream, to ask questions, to distance myself from the guy who has hurt me so deeply. A dangerous side of me, however, wants to believe him. Wants to think the guy in front of me isn't the one who wrecked what we once possessed. You want me to believe in you, I say, my voice shaking with rage and a deeper, softer emotion I won't admit. After all? After the deception, the control? His eyes flare with what seems to be sorrow. I understand. The past is unchangeable. But I beg you for one more opportunity. For our benefit. For what lies ahead. The stillness between us is dense and stifling. I can feel his draw, the weight of his presence. It's all too much, but I can't leave. You don't understand, Kendrick, " I say softly, almost inaudibly. I cannot only forget. I can't just act as though nothing occurred. He approaches nearer, bridging the gap between us. As he whispers, his breath warms my flesh. Sofia, I'm not telling you to forget. I ask you to pardon me. I beg you to pardon me. His words cut deep, and as they soak in, my heart skips a beat. I wish to trust him. I want to collapse into his arms and let him mend everything, to act as though the past never occurred. But I am unable to. I'm too damaged, too marked. My head a tornado of opposing feelings, I move back. Kendrick, I don't know whether I can, " I reply, my voice raspy. Though the agony in his eyes remains constant, his look becomes steely. I suppose we'll see then. Standing in the entrance of my flat, the echoes of Kendrick's confession still resonating in my head, the night is dense with silence. Fumbling with my keys, my hands tremble from the pressure of his words, which feel like a stifling cloud on me. I want room. I have to consider. The phone rings, loud and demanding, but first I have to close the door behind me. My heart skips a beat and I freeze. Who could be phoning at this hour? Hi? I murmur, my voice quivering with anxiety as it climbs my back. Though strange and distorted, the voice on the other end is clearly urgent. The voice cautions Sofia, "You're walking into something far bigger than you think," each syllable a grave, foreboding weight. Kendrick cannot be trusted. He's not who you believe him to be. I catch my breath in my throat. My stomach turns. Every instinct urges me to hang up, to disregard the warning, but something about the voice, the tone, grabs me with fear. Who is this? I insist, my voice cutting even though fear is gnawing at me. But no one answers. The queue dies. Cold perspiration forming on my brow, I stood there looking at the phone in my palm. I wish to disregard it, to attribute it to some joke, but I cannot. The phrases keep resonating in my head. Kendrick can't be trusted. The idea strikes me like a gut punch. Feeling the walls closing in on me makes my heart race and terror in my chest. Needing to leave the limits of my flat, the limits of my mind, I throw my coat over my shoulders and walk into the night air. But just as I get to the street, a shadowy figure steps out, their face obscured in the darkness. "Sofia," the figure murmurs, their icy, familiar voice. My heart races. Who are you? I whisper, my heart in my throat. The figure moves closer and in the low light I at last identify the face. Mason is it. He grins, but his eyes reveal a chill that turns my stomach. Sofia, you've been asking the incorrect questions, he continues, his voice silky almost too smooth. Now you are going to find out exactly how far this goes.