Twisted Luck

by Mia Downing

  “But at the end, I still rot in Hell.”

  He turned his gaze back to the ceiling. “We can’t have everything.”

  I shook my head, confounded. Confused. “So today meant nothing?”

  “Of course it meant something. You wanted special, so I gave you my family’s ring in a token of friendship. My goal was to get a ring on your finger and for your mother to believe it all true. I succeeded.” His gaze remained glued in the direction of my ceiling tiles. “You knew this. All of this.”

  “What becomes of us?” I trembled as I twisted his ring on my finger, because I knew the answer.

  “You knew this was temporary.” I wanted to scream at his shrug of indifference. “After tomorrow, I return to my rightful place, doing my rightful job. That was a condition as well. But I’ll always cherish your friendship, Olivia.”

  I fought to breathe evenly, determined to not hyperventilate for once. This made no sense after all he’d shown me, all he’d given me in Italy. Sharing his journey had cemented my love for him. He had to feel something, too. Didn’t he? “So that’s it.”

  He finally turned his head and quirked a brow. “Were you hoping for something different?”

  The million dollar question, right there. I had needed him to love me to break a contract. Now I wanted him to love me because I was worth it. “Leo.” I breathed in around the ache in my chest. “I—”

  He put a finger to my lips, silencing me. “Don’t. I promised to get you to the wedding. After that, you’ll be free to do as you wish. There will be no need to tarnish your soul. Just live as you want. Find a good man and fall in love. Have a baby with him. Have two. Have a dozen. That’s my gift to you, Olivia, for stealing your soul when you were at one of the lowest points in your life. That’s all I can give.”

  As I rolled away from him, the tears that had threatened to fall finally streamed down my cheeks. The ache in my chest grew until it felt like an elephant rested there, trying to suffocate my ragged breaths and silence the heavy thudding of my heart.

  I’d failed. Miserably failed. I’d fallen in love instead of him, thanks to that twisted luck.

  And now…I’d have to go over his head.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  They say the show must go on, and despite how much I wanted to burrow my head under a pillow and just pretend this wedding day would never happen…I couldn’t.

  I rose and slapped makeup on my pale face to conceal the dark shadows as I got ready to fake the performance of a lifetime. I sucked down copious cups of strong coffee as we rode in the limo to board the plane for Costa Rica. We would endure one brief layover and land around noon local time. The wedding would take place on the beach as the sun set around five thirty. So little time for what I needed to accomplish.

  From my comfy, first-class seat on the plane, I had savored Samuel’s discomfort on his first flight ever, his knuckles white on his armrests during takeoff. He couldn’t lie about his fear to my mother since he was supposed to be a world traveler. And he was…just not by plane.

  I couldn’t say my mother had looked comfortable today, either. Something seemed off, but then, it wasn’t every day a woman got married in a distant land.

  During the limo ride, she had admitted to being stressed about the myriad of details waiting for her attention upon arrival. Samuel had said all the right things and had kissed her cheek, but she didn’t relax as she usually did under his touch.

  Now as the second flight neared our destination, she smiled at me from her seat across the aisle, glancing to my hand entangled in Leo’s to keep up the facade. How I wish I had more to offer than a smile in return.

  Leo had never flown, either, but he handled it like a true adventurer. If he had any nerves going on, he hid them well as he lapped up the luxury of flying first class. The steamed towels, the gourmet breakfast and lunch, mimosas for two, an in-flight movie…all up Leo’s very discriminating alley.

  I had spent both flights pretending to read while secretly dithering about how I’d get Leo’s signature. The backup plan that had lingered in the recesses of my mind had manifested into a full-blown idea while I cried myself to sleep the night before.

  God help me, I didn’t want to do this. I had wanted Leo to love me instead, to put an end to this the easier way. But after last night, I had no choice. I grimaced as I patted the copy of the contract he’d handed me weeks ago, now hidden in my purse. If he wouldn’t help me, then I’d help myself.

  Leo removed his obscenely expensive headphones and studied me with a concerned arch to his brow. “What’s wrong?”

  “Just nerves.”

  His hand squeezed mine, and his expression softened the tiniest bit. “I can’t tell you today will turn out as you wish. You know it can’t. But I can tell you if you just relax and let things play out, it will be okay.”

  An anxious breath caught in my throat, and the sound must have been louder than I thought, because my mother glanced over at us. “I can’t do this here.”

  “You have to trust me.”

  I shook my head. “You know I can’t.”

  “Fine.” He slid the headphones back in place and relaxed into his seat in a huff.

  I closed my eyes for a moment, willing away fresh tears as my ears popped. The plane dropped in altitude, and my stomach went with it. I was out of time.

  “Excuse me.”

  I opened my eyes as the perky flight attendant handed me two sets of forms.

  “What are these?” I asked.

  She smiled brightly. “For customs and immigration. You won’t need them until the end of your trip, but it’s good to have that paperwork now.”

  I leafed through them and almost shuddered with relief. They required a signature. Leo’s signature. Thank you, luck.

  My hands shook as I rustled in my bag and withdrew the precious paper I needed him to sign. I shuffled the forms so the contract was concealed by the other paperwork, and then I sucked in a huge breath and nudged him. “You need to sign these forms.”

  He slid the headphones to hang around his neck and frowned at the documents. “Why?”

  “These are customs and immigrations forms.”

  Confusion drew his brows together.

  I couldn’t have him thinking, because he’d argue he didn’t need to sign them. He wasn’t returning the old-fashioned way. I sighed impatiently and shoved a pen in his right hand.

  “Just sign them.” I stabbed the papers with my finger. “Here, here, and here. I have your passport number.”

  “Are you sure—”

  “If you want to get into the country, yes,” I lied.

  The loudspeaker came on overhead, announcing our arrival in Spanish.

  I poked his hand. “The flight is getting ready to land. Get it done.”

  He signed the first page, went to scrutinize the second—the contract—and winced.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Paper cut.” He shook his left hand as he scowled at it. “It doesn’t bleed, but it still hurts.”

  “Seriously?” I rolled my eyes in mock disgust.

  “Yes, seriously.”

  The loudspeaker squawked again.

  “Grow a pair.” I tapped the pages in impatience. “Sign the forms.”

  I held my breath as his pen touched the line, the ink bleeding into the paper, his name scrawled in bold letters, releasing me from his contract. An odd sensation danced over my skin as if something weighted had been removed.

  He signed the last page, but my gaze fixed on the second page, on the fresh ink. All I had to do was add my signature underneath, and I’d be free. However, I’d save that for later. When I had Samuel right where I wanted him.

  Leo jerked as he stared at me with suspicious intent. “Something feels funny. What did you do?”

  “Why is this my fault?” I mustered all the innocence I could as I quickly shuffled papers into my bag.

  “Anything that goes wrong is your fault.”

  I forced a smil
e and leaned to plant a kiss on his lips. “Well, for once, you’re wrong.”

  ****

  It’s funny how time stops in some instances, and time flees in others. Time had hiked up her skirts and skedaddled the moment we landed in Liberia, Costa Rica. Sunshine and cloudless blue skies greeted us, as did several members of the hotel staff. My hands trembled as I clutched my bag against my chest, the signed contract almost burning through my leather purse.

  I could do this. I could save my mother. I didn’t need love, or Leo, or anyone else. I had a stolen signature. It would be enough. It had to be enough.

  But if it was enough, why did I feel so hollow?

  The hour drive to the hotel, a gorgeous, extravagant venue right on the Pacific Ocean, seemed like minutes. Leo cast me a few suspicious glances but for the most part enjoyed the view of grazing cattle and rice fields butting up to volcanic mountains.

  The terrain changed as we climbed a mountain and then down the other side, the Pacific stretching out before us. I rubbed my forearms as I stepped from the van, the heat doing nothing to erase the chill that had seemed to settle under my skin.

  A wedding team met us at the front entrance, and a woman tried to whisk me away from my mother to get ready alone.

  “Mom,” I pleaded, surprised. “I thought we’d be together this afternoon.”

  “Samuel thought this would be better. I have to approve things, and I do want to stay hidden from him once I get my gown on. Some of the tradition needs to be upheld.” She squeezed my hand. “I want you to be pampered and enjoy yourself. I’ve arranged for you to have a massage before you have your hair and makeup done.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered politely as my mom kissed my cheek.

  “Come, Leo.” Samuel smirked over her shoulder. “We’ll all see you at the altar, Olivia.”

  “They’re taking you away, too?” I sounded needy and whiny to my ears. Leo should be the last one I wanted to see given what I’d done, but I wanted to curl up somewhere with him one last time and just…let time stand still.

  Leo cupped my cheek, smoothing the soft skin with his thumb. The smile curving his handsome lips failed to reach his eyes, though. “It won’t be long.”

  I stood on tip-toe to whisper, “But don’t you want sex before the wedding?”

  “Mr. Weston?” the attendant inquired.

  “There’s plenty of time to celebrate afterward.” Leo kissed me softly, his lips lingering for a heartbeat. Then he turned to follow Samuel.

  I watched him go, admiring how much he’d changed as he carried his own garment bag in one hand, his luggage in another, looking so handsome and normal and…human. Despite being anything but.

  “Ms. Denning?”

  “Coming.” I sighed and followed the young woman toward a different part of the building.

  But then I stopped the assistant with a touch to her shoulder. “I need to speak with Mr. Weston before the ceremony. Older Mr. Weston,” I clarified as I glanced over my shoulder. Leo had disappeared down a long hallway.

  “There should be a few moments available. There will be tents set up outside the wedding venue where the wedding parties can wait. The groom and his groomsmen have that one, there.” She pointed outside.

  A path led to the beach, the deep blue of the ocean rolling into shore in magnificent waves. About halfway down to the water, an elegant white tent stood under a palm tree with part of another tent barely visible on the other side. Just beyond, an elegant arbor and a small seating area defined the wedding space. The sun dipped lower in the late afternoon sky. It had been right overhead at the airport and now the golden globe seemed to be free falling to dusk.

  “Thank you,” I said. “That will be perfect.”

  I clutched my bag to my chest as I squared my shoulders and followed her to begin my afternoon of beauty. I still had luck on my side for a few, short hours. This had to work.

  ****

  Later, I trembled as I approached the groom’s tent near the wedding venue on the beach. I smoothed the skirt on my dress, hoping the dark, red-wine color would hide the dampness from my palms. Down the path to the water, the blue sky dripped with yellows and gold as the sun made its decent, the reflection reaching across the deep-blue water to the beach. A gorgeous evening for a destination wedding.

  One I prayed wouldn’t happen.

  I took one last, deep breath as I tried to temper the racing of my heart. I gripped the pages in my hand tighter, hoping the sweat hadn’t marred Leo’s signature. I listened at the canvas doorway. No conversation, just the clink of ice in a glass of swirling liquid.

  I hoped he was alone. And drunk. Drunk would be good. But I settled for alone as I tugged at the canvas door and stepped inside.

  Samuel sat alone in a fabric-draped chair, sipping amber liquor from a glass, his arm draped over the back of the chair beside him. His tuxedo fit him like a glove, his hard body encased in elegant fabric that accentuated his broad shoulders. His jet-black hair had been spiked in the front, the temples and sideburns still silver and sexy as hell.

  He glanced up, his brows arching in surprise, his eyes hardening with hatred. The corner of his mouth quirked in smug superiority. “Come to beg one last time?”

  “I have an offer.” I stepped forward, letting the tent flap close behind me. Instead of cowering in the chill of his assessment, I drew a reassuring breath. I was banking on that hatred.

  Ice clinked in his glass as he set it down. His cold gaze dragged down my gown with contempt. “It’s a little late for an offer.”

  “I think you’ll like this one.” I sat down across from him and set the contract on the table. “This is now mine. Leo has offered to sign me over to you…as a wedding gift.”

  His gaze flicked to the contract, his fingers spreading as if he was dying to pick it up. Instead, he feigned disinterest with a wave of his hand. “There’s no way he’d sign you over to me.”

  I shrugged under his judgmental stare. “That’s his signature.”

  His glance strayed a little longer this time, almost caressing the fresh ink of Leo’s scrawled signature. He wanted it. Wanted me.

  “All this page is lacking is my signature. Then I’m free to sign a new contract.” I licked my lips and begged the words to come forward without stammering. My heart beat so fast I swore he could hear it. “With you.”

  Like spring courting winter, his cold eyes lit up, warming to my offer. “I see. And your conditions?”

  “You don’t contract my mother. Period. That’s what I want in return.”

  “That’s it?” He swirled his ice in his drink and drained the remains. “You don’t want to live forever?”

  “Is that possible?” I faltered internally, not expecting this. “The contract I had with Leo didn’t have a time limit, though he had discussed ten years.”

  “No, it’s not possible,” he all but sneered as he plunked down his glass. “And yes, ten years is a usual contract limit. Though I prefer to keep things…open.”

  I didn’t want an open contract. I wanted to know. “I’m hoping we can come to an agreement on the length of contract.”

  “I don’t know.” He rubbed his chin in contemplation. “Your mother is worth a lot. I’ve put months and months of time and effort into winning her soul. I’m so close I can almost smell victory, and it smells a lot like wedding flowers.”

  I tried not to flinch. From the length of the shadows on the sides of the tent and the renewed bustling outside, the wedding hour approached. I had to seal this deal. “You’re a rich man.”

  “So?”

  “You hate me. I’ve been nothing but trouble for you and for Leo. I’m worth it.” I now knew how a mouse felt when it looked into the eyes of a snake before it died. The lingering mid-day heat in the tent did nothing to fight off the chill that raised the hair on my neck. “You can afford the luxury of forgoing my mother’s soul for mine.”

  “Yes, I can.” He lifted his glass, and like magic, more liquid appeared ov
er fresh ice. “I find this intriguing, Olivia.”

  “Do you?”

  “I do.” He sipped, smiling over the glass until it lowered. “What happened in paradise? You wear Leo’s ring, yet here you are with a signed addendum to annul your contract.”

  “I don’t understand.” I lifted my chin with false bravado. “That ring was for show.”

  “Do tell.” He steepled his fingers and tapped them against his lips as he contemplated me with something that smacked of amusement. “How much do you think Leo will suffer as he witnesses your torture?”

  I blinked and shook my head, hoping the action hid my shudder. “He won’t suffer at all.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “I’m sure.” I squelched down the inner voice that demanded to know why I hadn’t considered how Leo would feel about this. He obviously cared. Even Samuel could see it. But his plans had been to save only me. I needed him to save my mother, too.

  “As I said, that’s his signature.” I tapped the contract in earnest.

  “Yes, it is his signature, but we both know you conned him into signing somehow. I’m not sure how you went about getting it, but win for me.” Samuel glanced at his watch. “Do we have an agreement, then? You sign your soul to me, and I’m going to be very nice and promise I won’t call in that contract until after midnight tonight since you’re afraid I’ll kill you right now. In return, Muriel Denning’s soul becomes off limits.” He held out his hand.

  “Will you consider a ten-year contract?” I gulped, knowing I was asking too much. But Leo had been clear my last contract didn’t have a time limit. I was banking that Samuel would want to keep me alive a little while longer. “I’d like more time with my mother.”

  His smile grew, and he extended his hand farther. “I’ll consider it. Yes. After midnight.”

  I didn’t want to shake it. God help me, I had no other solution. I let his warm hand engulf my sweaty one in a firm shake. “Deal.”

  He reached into his pocket and produced a piece of ancient parchment covered in illegible black ink. On the table between us, a quill pen with a blood-red feather appeared next to a silver knife and a little inkwell.