Chapter 4
The doors of the private penthouse suite slid shut, sealing out the noise and chaos of the hotel below. The suite was bathed in warm, soft lighting, a stark contrast to the harsh brightness of the ballroom. Alexander gently set Sophia down on the plush velvet sofa. She immediately pulled her knees to her chest, her worn sneakers leaving faint dirt marks on the upholstery.
"Are you mad at me, Daddy?" Sophia asked, her voice shaking. "Grandma said you were mad at me. She said that's why you went far away and didn't want me anymore."
Alexander felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. He knelt in front of the sofa, ignoring the ruin of his tailored trousers. He reached out and gently took her small, dirty hands in his.
"Sophia, look at me," Alexander said, his voice thick with emotion. "I never stopped wanting you. I went to Europe to build our business so you would never have to worry about anything. I called every week. Grandma told me you were at school, or playing, or sleeping. She lied to me, sweetheart. She lied to me every single day."
Sophia’s lower lip quivered. She looked down at the moldy bread she had finally dropped onto the coffee table. "She said if I cried for you, the bad man would put me in the dark room again."
Alexander clenched his jaw so hard his teeth ached. He pulled a pristine silk handkerchief from his suit pocket and gently wiped a smudge of dirt from her rosy cheek.
"I am going to find this bad man, Sophia," Alexander promised quietly. "And he is going to pay for what he did. But right now, we need to take care of you."
He stood up and picked up the room service telephone. "This is Alexander Sterling in the penthouse. I need a pediatrician sent up here immediately. Discretion is mandatory. I also need your kitchen to send up hot soup, fresh bread, roasted chicken, and every dessert you have. Now."
He slammed the phone down. Sophia was staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"All of it?" she asked softly.
"All of it," Alexander confirmed, managing a small, reassuring smile. "While we wait for the food, how about we run a warm bath? We can get rid of all that alley dirt."
Thirty minutes later, Sophia was sitting at the massive mahogany dining table, wrapped in a fluffy white hotel bathrobe that dwarfed her tiny frame. Her hair was washed and combed, her rosy skin glowing despite the gauntness of her cheeks. She was eating a bowl of chicken soup with a ravenous intensity that broke Alexander's heart.
He sat across from her, a glass of untouched scotch in his hand.
"Slow down, sweetie," Alexander cautioned gently. "You'll make your tummy hurt."
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Sophia paused, the silver spoon halfway to her mouth. "Daddy... what is going to happen to Grandma?"
"Grandma is going to answer for her crimes," Alexander said darkly. He took a sip of his scotch. "Starting with where she put my money, and ending with where she put you."
