Page 24 of Hard Lessons

“Thank you.” She ended the call. Fifteen minutes and she’d be on her way.

She walked around the apartment, skimming her fingertip over the island, the table, the back of the sofa. The sofa was the only place she associated with Luca. They’d fucked over it after being in the apartment less than two minutes.

What other memories would I have, if we hadn’t gone with Giovanni that day?

She stared into the bedroom, a place she knew so well, but only from nights alone thinking of the what-ifs. Wishing he was with her. Wishing they’d opted for a life away from crime, illegal deals, intimidation, and violence. But prison was part of their history and no doubt his future too.

One thing she’d come to be sure of in the last year was she didn’t want locks, bars, and keys in her life. And the only way to do that was to live cleanly. To stay on the right side of the law... permanently.

Perhaps she should have gone to America sooner.

“And miss all the fun I’ve had in London.” She giggled and looked out of the window. The view alone was worth millions. Really, she’d been doing Giovanni a favor looking after the place. Keeping it clean and tidy and lived in.

She glanced at her watch, a pretty Tiffany number she hadn’t been able to resist, then slipped into Gucci pumps.

“Goodbye,” she said, glancing around one last time. A tinge of sadness hit her and she avoided looking at the wall Luca had been pushed up against and frisked. His big body, usually so indomitable and commanding, subdued by the rough hand of the law.

Without further hesitation, she placed the keys on the table in the hallway, then pulled the door shut behind her. Giovanni would know she’d left before the day was out. Serena wasn’t stupid enough to think she wasn’t being watched. Hell, she’d felt the heat of eyes burning into the back of her neck on more than one occasion. And she was sure the apartment’s security guy had been slipped a few hundred to report on her comings and goings.

But what the hell.

She had no interest in dating London men. There was nothing for the spies to see or report. Serena had no desires to go out clubbing and roll in drunk at two a.m. No, dinner with a few new girlfriends she’d met at the gym, shopping, theater, art galleries. That suited her fine and didn’t draw any unwanted attention.

I only want Luca.

Losing him, having him ripped from her life, had hurt like a damn whip across her heart. For weeks she’d cried, moped around, wished it had been different. Wishing their last moments hadn’t been charged with jealousy, threats, and rebukes.

But Serena hadn’t been brought up to be a quitter. She was a survivor. Even if the love of her life had been locked up, her new life shattered, and her actions unforgivable, she’d carried on. Just like she was now.

She waved a cheery goodbye to Nic, the chubby guy who sat behind a desk marked security. He was reading a copy ofMen’s Health—ironic—then pushed through the revolving doors.

A blue BMW sat outside, engine running. She pulled open the door. “Heathrow, booked in the name of Ricci?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ve got a suitcase.”

“No problem. I’ll get it.”

“Thanks. But be careful, it’s new.” She watched the driver stow her luggage. It had one hundred thousand pounds secreted away in it. It was ready to get changed into dollars, just as soon as she could find the right kind of place to process that kind of cash.

The trunk slammed shut and she hopped into the car. The driver got back in, started the engine, and pulled out of the apartment drop-off zone.

Her heart was thumping as she stared back at the lobby. Another week and Luca would be showing up on the polished tiled floor. He’d hit the elevator button, ride to the top floor, and then...

Damn, he’d be furious when he found out she’d gone.

On second thoughts, furious wasn’t a strong enough word. He’d get that steely glint in his eye. His jaw would tense. And he’d be silent—a dangerous, heavy silence—as he flexed and unflexed his fingers and every sinew and tendon in his body turned to stone.

A shiver went up her spine and she turned away. Being on the other side of the Atlantic was definitely the place to be when Luca Morretti was deeply unhappy.

Soon they were weaving their way through the London traffic. Serena silently bid farewell to local landmarks she’d come to know well during her time living in the city. Beautiful old buildings, imposing and ornate, tucked away cafés, expensive boutiques with pretty window dressings.

As they turned right at a set of lights she turned her cell phone off then removed the sim card. It only took her a few seconds to bend it back and forth and wreck the chip. She’d buy another one when she got to America. Let her brother know her new number and that was it. Her friends in the UK were no longer part of her life. That would put both them and her in danger should Luca come looking.

“He won’t find me,” she mouthed to herself for the hundredth time.

How could he? She’d booked the flight with a phone call, then collected the tickets from the post office because she’d been out when they’d been delivered and they’d required a signature. The rest she’d organize when she got there. Likely just book into an airport hotel for the first night—the way she had when she’d arrived in London.

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