Vincenzo abruptly shut the laptop he’d been working on, the constriction in his chest getting tighter. No, surely not. She wasn’t him.
She didn’t have a history of corruption of her own family and she hadn’t actually led people to their deaths as he had.
You think she should pay for her crimes while you escape having to pay for yours?
He was paying for his crimes. What he’d told her that night was the truth. He was serving a life sentence, using his contacts and his knowledge to help the police. Dedicating his life to the pursuit of justice.
He’d put a lot of people behind bars, more than if he’d been rotting in a cell himself. And it wasn’t as if the life he had now had anything to do with freedom. Yes, he had money and a life of ease, but he lived in a cage all the same. A gilded one. Hemmed in by security, since not a day went by when someone didn’t make an attempt on his life. Isolated, since he could trust nothing and no one. Curtailed in everything he did because, as far as he was concerned, everything had one point and one point only: justice.
He had paid and he was still paying. He’d be paying for the rest of his life.
Fine, but do you really think she should? Hasn’t she paid already?
Putting the laptop down on the table beside him, he got off the lounger and paced over the green lawn towards the stone parapet that stood between him and the cliff face.
Her life had been a misery, spent in fear and loneliness, and so really she had paid. She’d been forced into committing offences and, regardless of what he’d told himself about choices, Lucy hadn’t had one. Was she really guilty? And did she really deserve to be handed over to the authorities?
But then, what would he do with her if he didn’t? She’d asked him to help her escape, find a new life for herself in the States...
Or you could keep her.
A fist closed around his heart, squeezing him tight, making it so he could hardly breathe.
He could keep her. She could live here in the villa. With him.
Slowly, Vincenzo turned around, his gaze settling on her where she lay on the sun lounger, a primitive sense of possession filling him. Perhaps he wouldn’t give her up. Perhaps he would keep her. She would be there whenever he wanted her, warm and silky and sweet. Giving him her honesty and her passion. Her loyalty and her trust. He wouldn’t have to be alone any more. He would have her.
And why not? He was paying for his crimes, but why couldn’t he have something for himself? And it wouldn’t be only for himself. It would be for her too, because she’d told him that he was important to her, and surely staying with him was more important to her than being imprisoned in a cell?
Is that really what she needs, though? And isn’t being trapped on this island with you really just another cell?
A chill washed over him, burning away the burst of possessiveness. It was true, he could keep her here with him. And he could make her happy, he was sure. In fact, perhaps he even should, since with her help he’d be able to take down even more people than he would on his own.
But what kind of life would that be for her? She’d be in constant danger from those looking to use her to get to him, unable to go anywhere without security. It would be a curtailed, narrow sort of life.
It was the life she’d escaped when she’d run from her father. The life her mother had told her to get free of.
You can’t do that to her.
Over on the sun lounger, Lucy sighed and turned her head, her hair trailing down her back. He could see her face, naked without her glasses, and for the first time he didn’t see vulnerability and fear there. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was curved slightly in a satisfied way, and she looked at peace. She looked...happy.
He could give her more of that here, but not for ever. She was curious and intelligent and he could imagine her living a life without fear, where she was free to explore everything that interested her. Where she could put those impressive financial skills to better use in a way that would fulfil her, not cause her guilt and pain.
But that life wasn’t with him. He’d chosen his path and it was a solitary one; he couldn’t make her walk it with him. And if he couldn’t trap her in a cage here with him, he couldn’t trap her in any other cage either.
The knowledge filtered through him, not fast like a lightning strike but slowly, like the sun rising.
He couldn’t give her to the authorities. He couldn’t let her go to prison.
Yes, she’d broken the law but there were extenuating circumstances. She’d lost so much and there was so much good she could do out in the world. So much good she would do, because of the kind of person she was.
What things could she do if she was allowed to follow her own passions? What kinds of things could she create if she weren’t hemmed in by fear?
What kind of person could she become?
Ah, but he knew already. She would be amazing.
He couldn’t keep that from her. He wouldn’t.
It went against everything he’d thought justice was, but maybe there were more forms of justice in this world than he’d previously thought. And besides, it would be a greater injustice to put her back in a cage than it would be to take her out of it.
Determination sat inside him, a new sense of purpose.
He’d never wanted anything more from this life than to bring down the people who hurt others and he would keep on with doing that. She’d brought him a little space of peace and he would remember that for ever.
But she wasn’t his and she never would be. And the greatest gift he could give to the world would be to let her go.
Lucy sighed again and rolled over, glancing to where he’d been sitting. She frowned when she didn’t see him, sitting up and looking around.
Then her gaze found his and her face lit up, and she smiled.
No, that was the sun rising. That was the lightning strike. Her and her smile, and the way she looked at him. As if he was a sight that made her happy and gave her joy.
Then she held out her arms to him and he felt something inside him crumble and fall away, like a narrow cliff path collapsing under his feet. There was nothing to stop him, nothing to hold on to. One moment the path was firm and solid, the next he was in the air and he was falling.
It was dizzying, terrifying, a rush of intense happiness and hope, along with a despair that he hadn’t felt since he’d betrayed Gabriella.
He didn’t know how he was ever going to give his civetta up.
But he was going to have to.
CHAPTER TEN
LUCY PAUSED BESIDE the bed and briefly debated whether to grab the book she’d been reading to bring down to the pool, or the financial magazine Vincenzo had given her. The book was some nice escapism, but the magazine had some interesting articles, and she wasn’t sure what she was in the mood for. Both, perhaps?