by Trish Morey
Because she hadn’t wanted to see them—hadn’t let herself see them.
Because her stupid ill-placed loyalty had blinded her.
How she made it through the battery of one round of questioning after another she didn’t know. Maybe it was because she was numb, so deeply in shock over what had happened that it felt as if nothing could ever touch her again. And that was good. She didn’t want to feel.
Because then she couldn’t feel pain.
At last the police decided that she had helped them as much as she could and that there was no reason to hold her any longer. She was free to go.
Escorted by an officer, she was waiting for the lift that would come and return her to the outside world when the doors of one of the other interview rooms opposite opened. She almost looked away—until she saw who spilled out, and then she gasped.
Flanked by two officers, Grace walked, head held high, even though her arms were handcuffed behind her. But, despite the angle of her chin, she looked suddenly old, with dark circles under her eyes and her skilfully raised cheekbones suspending hollowed flesh beneath.
Across the waiting area their eyes met. Grace’s glinted coldly in the glow from the artificial office lighting above.
Jade involuntarily took a step forward, her lips turning up instinctively, before she realised where she was and why they were both there. Her smile slid away again. But she wanted to say something—just to let her know that if Grace needed her…
‘Grace—’ she began.
The officer alongside her put his hand on her arm to keep her where she was, but she’d already stopped at the ice-cold glare from Grace’s eyes.
‘You bitch!’ Grace said, her voice so sharp it cut the air between them like a scalpel. ‘You did this to me! I made you what you are, and this is how you repay me? I should have let you rot in that Outback town of yours. I should have burned that birthmark black!’
The lift doors opened and Jade stumbled in, waiting for what seemed like an eternity before the doors hissed closed and the lift began its grinding descent, gradually blocking out the sounds of the screaming woman, although the echoes of her words and the painful reminder of her early life continued to ring loudly in her ears long after she’d left the building.
There was a crowd gathered outside the gates of the mansion—almost as if there was a party and everyone had been asked to park outside. But the cars weren’t convertibles or coupés. These were trucks and vans with dishes and aerials on their roofs.
Uncertain, she asked the cab driver to pull up several houses away, where she stood on the kerb for a few seconds, wondering how she’d get into the house without being noticed.
‘You gonna pay me, lady?’
She blinked and paid the fare automatically in response, not thinking that she’d be better off getting right back in and finding somewhere else to stay. By the time she’d worked out that it was a crowd of reporters swarming around the entrance to the mansion the cab was already disappearing into the distance.
She looked around. The street was otherwise as it always was—quiet, serene, and a haven from downtown traffic. There was little chance of another cab passing.
Someone in the distance called out, ‘It’s her!’ and suddenly the pack was in motion, picking up cameras and other equipment, heading straight for her.
‘Dr Ferraro!’ they called. ‘Dr Ferraro!’
She knew instinctively she should run. She knew instinctively she should hide. But there was nowhere to go, nowhere to run—and, just as her mind felt frozen, her feet seemed welded to the spot. It was all she could do to watch the hungry pack draw closer.
Then, from somewhere close behind her, came the roar of an engine and a squeal of tyres, and a voice yelled out, ‘Get in!’
Loukas?
She looked around. The passenger door of the car hung open and he was waiting inside for her to join him. She tried to shake her head. None of this could be happening. Why would Loukas be here? Surely not to save her? Not after what he’d thought about her from the start. Not after all she’d done to stop him.
And all the while the pack drew closer still, the leaders now only seconds away
‘Come on! Get in,’ he urged. ‘They’ll tear you to pieces.’
And something in her mind clicked into place. After spending the best part of two days being interviewed by the police, the last thing she could face right now was reporters jamming their cameras into her face, wanting more of the same, wanting every last sordid detail of the scandal that was rocking Hollywood to its core.
Whatever fate Loukas had planned for her, at least he could save her from that.
She slid down into the seat alongside him with the first reporter only metres away. But she didn’t close the door. She didn’t have to. The car’s powerful acceleration took care of that, swinging the wide door closed as Loukas steered away from the kerb and past the ribbon of disgruntled reporters, cheated of their prey.
She took a deep breath and settled back into the luxurious leather seat, finding the familiar smell of his car much more to her liking than the stained cab she’d just exited. Until she realised what it was that she liked about it—it bore the imprint of Loukas’s own signature scent.
And suddenly she didn’t feel comfortable. She didn’t want to think about that side of Loukas. She didn’t want to be reminded of the times they’d spent in this car on their way to the beach house, anticipating what was to follow, their sexual excitement mounting as they drew closer to their destination, the hunger between them building.
Dammit! She couldn’t afford to think about those nights.
Because they were gone. Just the same as her strident defence of Grace—blown to smithereens by the truth, the real truth that Loukas had known all along and that she had fought so hard against the whole time.
She pushed her head back into the leather-upholstered headrest as the enormity of one simple fact worked its way clear from the fog of her mind. She’d been the one who was wrong.
It was Loukas who had been right all along.
Her throat tightened, her mouth ashen. How could she even start to admit it?
How the hell could she begin to tell him how much she was sorry? How much she wished she’d listened to him instead of blocking out everything he said as if his words were poisoned? His warnings should have made some sort of sense, given she’d been starting to have her own concerns about Grace’s hunger for money. Instead she’d blocked it out with walls made of her loyalty to Grace. Her stupid, ill-placed loyalty that had been shattered until it tumbled down and now lay in ruins around her.
She turned her head a fraction and glanced at his profile. His jaw looked set, his eyes rigidly glued to the traffic. Hardly a surprise. He was bound to be angry with her. She hadn’t believed his claims and then she’d all but accused him of cheating the foundation out of a million dollars. And that was all before he’d found her standing over his sister, preparing to operate, as if she was the one who was crazed.
She had to be crazy.
But suddenly being crazy seemed the easy option. No longer did she recognise her world. It had tilted way off axis, turning truth to lies and lies to truth and heroes to villains. And still none of it made sense. She was a stranger in a strange new world.
Even the fact that it was Loukas who had come to her rescue tonight was crazy. He was the last person she would have expected to whisk her away from more embarrassment and more pain. He must hate the very sight of her.
So she’d ensure he didn’t need to put up with her company any longer than was absolutely necessary. She took a deep breath.
‘Thank you,’ she said finally, sounding too loud as she fractured the silence between them. But she owed him at least her thanks for getting her away from the reporters—even if being trapped with him in his car was hardly what she’d call sanctuary. ‘You can drop me at a hotel anywhere convenient.’
He only grunted in response and kept right on driving. She turned her head
away, determined not to be affected by his obvious distaste for her. But when they’d passed an entire strip of hotels she turned to him again. ‘I said you could let me out. What’s wrong with any of these places?’
‘You’d be tracked down by the media in ten minutes flat.’
‘Look, I can take care of myself.’
‘Which is what you were doing back there so impressively, no doubt.’
‘Then where are you taking me?’
‘Where do you think? Somewhere you’ll be safe, and the last place they’ll think to look for you.’
Panic welled up inside her. He couldn’t be serious!
‘No! Not the beach house. I won’t go. You can’t expect me to stay there.’
‘You have no choice. Right now you have nowhere else to go,’ he said, closing down the argument.
Loukas was garaging the car when she entered the living room. The first thing she noticed were the newspapers scattered on the coffee table, the headlines screaming out at her.
Fallen From Grace
The Deepest Cut
No Saving Grace
A Foundation of Evil
She picked up the least inflammatory-looking paper and skimmed the front-page article before dropping the newspaper back down on the table and sliding open the glass doors leading out to the deck.
The story was splashed all over every one of the papers, with the Demakis name everywhere, and yet for all that it looked as if it wouldn’t do the Senator’s chances in the upcoming primaries any harm at all.
Pia was clearly the helpless victim, with Loukas painted as the hero—saving her from disfigurement or death or maybe even both.
On the other hand Grace was portrayed as a crazed psycho who believed the myth built up around her so much that she actually thought herself to be a goddess—way above both other mere mortals and the law.
Maybe there was some truth in that, Jade acknowledged as she leant down and rested her forearms on the deck balustrade, relishing the tang of the fresh sea breeze after being stuck in the airless box of a police building answering questions for so long.
Grace had always loved the celebrity that came from being a vital part of the world of the rich and famous. She’d loved the buzz that came from being courted by the fabulously wealthy who needed to be fabulously beautiful as well. She’d wielded the power to change lives and fortunes in her hands. She’d been a goddess to them!
And now the scandal of Grace’s undoing was causing shockwaves that were reverberating throughout Hollywood’s celebrity circles—not to mention causing a great deal of appointment-rescheduling.
Thank God she was out of it for now. Thank God the clinic was closed and she could step back from this crazy industry. Because this wasn’t what she’d had in mind when she’d come to LA. She’d wanted to make a difference for good, to help people make the most of their lives. And yet when she’d joined Grace’s clinic all that had changed.
Sure, for a while it had been exhilarating, exciting, and she’d loved the pace of life and the challenge. But she hadn’t been helping the people who needed it most, and if she hadn’t been working with her very own heroine, planning for the future of the foundation, surely she would have thought about moving on.
The foundation. What a joke! There was no foundation. Not the way she’d wanted. There was a fund, to be sure. But just how Grace had planned to make use of that fund…
A noise behind her alerted her to Loukas’s presence. She turned to see him standing stock-still in the doorway, his eyes calmly surveying her. She shivered as his cold eyes chilled the air around her. How long had he been there, watching her?
‘Are you all right?’ he asked, his voice flat and almost lifeless.
‘Is that why you brought me here? To ensure that I was all right?’ she responded, half wishing that he had, half hoping that he might have acted out of at least a modicum of concern for her welfare, even after everything that had happened.
It was insane, and yet it also seemed so important. Could he care for her? Just a little? After what they’d shared, surely there was something, some tiny residual shred of feeling for her?
‘I brought you here so the reporters can’t find you. What else?’
What else indeed? A bucket of cold water couldn’t have doused her pathetic hopes more effectively. She had been insane to even think it. After all, right from the start he’d never acted out of concern for her. He’d only ever wanted her so he could use her against Grace.
All thoughts of wanting to apologise to him evaporated in an instant in the cold, hard light of his attitude.
His face tight, his voice sounding strained, he continued before she had a chance to get her simmering thoughts in order. ‘I’ve put some fresh linen in the guestroom. I’ll get someone to pick up some clothes for you in the morning. Goodnight.’
Then he was gone.
‘Just how long do you plan on keeping me here?’
Loukas looked up from his newspaper, replacing a cup of coffee in its saucer with a low clatter. Jade was pacing behind the wide serving bench that separated the kitchen from the living area, her hands busy with each other as she paced, and turned, and paced some more. This was only her second morning at the beach house, and yet already her face looked tight and drawn.
Then he let himself do what he’d been avoiding doing all of yesterday, and let his eyes skim over the rest of her. Her curves were there, under her summer cut-offs and halter top, but she seemed, more angular in places. She’d lost weight.
He frowned. That was the last thing he wanted. ‘Come and eat some breakfast. You look gaunt.’
‘I’m not hungry.’
‘You need to eat something.’
‘How long?’ She stopped pacing and turned to face him, her eyes pleading while at the same time resolute. ‘The police said I was free to go. So how does that give you the right to kidnap me and lock me away?’
He raised his cup and took another slug of coffee. He needed the caffeine after two nights of trying—and failing miserably—to sleep half a dozen rooms away from where she lay. How many times had he imagined he heard her soft footfall coming down the hall? How often had he dozed off, half dreaming, half imagining that she was in his arms again, only to wake and find them empty or wrapped around twisted sheets?
And how many times had he been tempted to take those few short steps himself?
But that would serve no purpose now. She was only here so that he could protect Olympia. Nothing more.
But he didn’t know how long it would take. All he knew was that already it seemed too long. So instead he asked, ‘Have you read today’s papers?’
She shook her head, tucking strands of loose hair behind her ears. She hadn’t tied it back this morning, and the ends dusted the line of her bare neck and shoulders. Something inside him clenched, and he forced himself to drag his eyes away from the sensual marriage of bare skin and whispering hair.
‘I can’t bear to read any of it.’
‘Mayor Goldfinch has been arrested. Seems he was hooking up with Della-Bosca to have access to the foundation’s fund. They both wanted a slice of that pie. It looks like the end of that career.’
‘Bastards! Both of them!’ she said, so emphatically that he looked up in surprise. But jail was nothing more than they both deserved. And to think she’d felt sorry for Grace when she’d discovered what kind of man he really was!
‘How could they steal money away from children’s hopes and dreams like that?’ she asked. ‘How could they do that? And why did he even need to? He’s already got a huge property development fortune.’
‘Not any more. He’s been losing money for years, living in debt and relying on cash flow, waiting for another big success to take him out of it. Della-Bosca was good at masking what she’d been doing with the foundation funds, but not that good. Once he found out about her misappropriation of funds, he demanded equal access to keep his mouth shut. Between the two of them the foundation didn’t stand a chanc
e.’
He watched her curiously for a few moments, and she wondered what he was thinking. No doubt he believed that she should be in jail too.
And then she remembered what she’d done that awful morning, before Grace’s house of cards had collapsed around her, when she’d called Loukas demanding he pay up his promised one-million-dollar donation and keep his promise to the children.
Her eyes fell shut and she breathed deep on a long blink. Oh, God, no wonder everything was such a mess. She had forgotten completely about his money.
‘Loukas,’ she said, licking her lips, buying herself time as if it might find her some courage, ‘I’m not happy with how you treated me—how you used me like you did. But there’s one thing I need to apologise for. About the foundation.’ She paused for a few moments then. ‘You made that donation like you said, didn’t you?’
‘I told you I had.’
‘And they stole it—along with the rest of the money?’
‘So it appears.’
‘Then I’m sorry. I was angry when I called you. I thought you hadn’t paid…’
‘You don’t need to apologise,’ he said, rising from his chair and turning towards the windows, hands on hips. ‘It was your call that made me decide to confront Della-Bosca myself. That’s why I was there. That’s why I was lucky enough to find Olympia.’
And that was why he’d found Jade standing over his sister next to a madwoman, and looking for all the world as if she had been the one intending to operate. Her throat tightened. ‘You know…I wasn’t…’
‘I know,’ he said, his voice thick and strained, as if he was trying to keep it under control. And looked away, as if he would rather change the topic completely than continue this conversation.
Her tongue found her lips again, fighting a losing battle to keep them moist. She needed to press on. There were still more things she needed to say, whether or not he wanted to hear them. They had to be said before she changed her mind.