That haunting,unforgettablenight burned into her memories, staining her soul, flaying her sexual organs.
The night she buried her husband and slept with his brother.
There was a lot that people didn’t know.
A lot that Giancarlo didn’t know either.
If he did, then maybe he wouldn’t hate himself. Or keep distance between them.
But some things weren’t her secrets to share.
God. God. Stop thinking about him, Lucia. She chastised, zipping her case closed.
Giancarlo.
Or Capone, as he was known now.
Biker. As dangerous as her father.
But yet not to her.
To her, he was her haven and had held her heart since she was eighteen.
Not that he wanted it.Ouch.Unrequited love, what a fucking bitch.
Some might say Lucia was a typical, ditzy blonde and dependent on daddy. Only suitable for pushing out babies and doing as she was told.
She lived in the modern world yet governed by olden-day fashions where women had no rights and opinions of their own.
To him, business was business, and there was no room for emotion with money.
She remembered the night she was brought back to her father’s house, after Santiago was killed. She’d known it was his doing, of course. But there was no show of affection.Go unpack, Lucia. We won’t speak of this again.
And that had been that. As if she’d returned from a trip and not from the police station.
Lucia knew the one remaining man from that whole devastating saga wanted to be as far away from her as possible. If anything, Giancarlo felt obligated to her because of guilt. However, she’d absolved him of any wrong-doing long ago.
Slinging a messenger bag around her back, Lucia picked up the roller case and padded soundlessly to the door while her heart thudded.
She’d always had a nervous laugh when in situations where laughter wasn’t the right thing to do. It couldn’t be helped. The nervous tick tried to work its way up her throat, and Lucia pushed it down. She was on the other side of the house, but it would be her bad luck if someone heard.
It was fast work down the winding staircase, creeping through the corridors, hearing the house staff in the kitchen. Holding her breath, Lucia tiptoed into the garage. She didn’t bother flipping on the lights for fear they triggered a warning in the staff quarters. Luckily, Lucia knew the two rows of eight cars and quickly grabbed the BMW keys from the lockbox.
So sure she’d be caught as she started the electric engine, the reason for the choice when it didn’t make a sound.
It was only when she depressed the gate control Lucia let out a breath, also freeing a bubble of laughter from her chest.
She wasn’t out of the woods yet, but it was the closest to freedom she’d ever felt, and she was euphoric as she increased her speed, taking her further away from the compound.
Life was about choices.
Or so the saying went.
Not for Lucia.
Neverfor Lucia.
Follow orders, obey the rules, and never ask for anything not already offered.