Page 68 of Choosing Hope

Fuck. I didn’t think it was possible to hate myself more for what I’d done to her.

After my night-time call with Carlo, it was impossible for me to stay in Dubai as I’d intended.

Before seeing Sophie again, I need to make inroads in resolving some of these issues in my life, so that I can go home with some positive progress. Once I’ve cut out the shit, I’ll be able to commit to her entirely.

With my flight booked, I call Carlo to apologize for the way I spoke to him. When he answers, I can tell he’s speaking through clenched teeth.

“I realize I’m not in the best position to do this, but I need to ask you a favor.”

“What?” he demands, the tightness in his tone screaming how furious he is with me.

“Well, actually, two favors.”

“You’re pushing your fucking luck, Spence.”

“Will you take care of her for me for a while? Whatever way she needs, I know you love her; just don’t let her leave. I’ll sort all this shit out, but it’s going to take some time to get my head straight,” I admit.

“That’s a given. Why do you think I came back here? She’s devastated and needs some support. She’s been feeling isolated.”

Another shot to the heart; she shouldn’t need any of these things from him. I’m her husband. I want her to rely on me. That she can’t even ask me hurts like hell.

He continues, “I’ll do my best, Spence, but I’m unsure how long I can hold this together.”

“Tell her I love her every day. Show her you love her.”

“Are you asking me to have sex with her?” he demands.

Jealousy grips the muscles in my stomach. No, not unless I’m there, but I’m astute enough to be sure now wasn’t the time for my selfishness. I repeat my former mantra,‘Carlo will never hurt her.’

“If that’s what you both want,” I choke out.

“Would you like me to remind her what a real man feels like?”

I roll my eyes at his cocky response and swallow down my defensive reply.

That was easier than I expected, but my next question won’t be. No matter how I look at this, the same answers keep popping into my mind; I need to reduce my temptations.

The simplest route to that is selling my shares in Locked. Travis is going to be seriously pissed at me, and he can’t afford to buy me out. However, last night, after our phone call, I had an epiphany: convince Carlo to take over the club.

Money isn’t an issue. Carlo’s loaded. His father, Alonso, is forever stuffing more money into an offshore account for him; Alonso never seems to get the message that money won’t buy his son’s affections.

If I can convince him to invest, my next goal will be to persuade him to move back to the UK permanently.

Travis went to school with Carlo and me; hence, they know each other well. Plus, with Carlo’s experience in hospitality, he’ll be the perfect partner for Travis; who needs someone steady to keep him grounded.

“I’ve got a business proposition for you.”

“Hmm, don’t tell me. Let me guess...” He pauses for a few seconds while my heart pounds a tattoo into my chest. “You’re hoping I’ll buy you out of Locked?”

“How well you know me,” I say sarcastically.

“You’re not as complex as you think, Compagno,” he says in his familiar flippant manner.

“Well?”

His knowing sigh suggests he’s already hooked.

“I’ve been trying to convince myself to make the offer since Friday night. That place is fucking kryptonite to you.” Hope warms my heart. “The thing is, if Travis and I still own it, isn’t it still too close? Wouldn’t it make more sense to sell to this Italian who keeps tapping you guys up? Make a tidy profit and get out altogether.”