She picked them up and turned to the door just as Vincenzo strode in.
A delicious shiver worked its way down her spine the way it always did whenever he was near, her heart beating faster, tension and flutters of heat collecting in the pit of her stomach. Along with a desperate, tight feeling she couldn’t shake.
He was in a perfectly tailored midnight-blue suit today, with a black shirt that only emphasised his compelling, dark magnetism. With his inky hair and obsidian eyes, the harsh planes and angles of his face, he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen in her life.
Don’t feel anything for him. You can’t.
No, of course she didn’t. She was just...admiring him. And she liked being near him and touching him and having him look at her. She was happy whenever she was in his presence, so happy...
But it was nothing more than that. And it certainly wasn’t love.
She smiled and took a step towards him, but he didn’t smile back. And he didn’t reach for her the way he normally did. The expression on his face was carved from stone, his black eyes cold. He looked the way he had when she’d first seen him in his office nearly a week ago. Unyielding. Ruthless...
A chill crept through her.
‘Is there something wrong?’ She tried a smile, hoping he would smile back, let her know that everything was fine. ‘I was just going down to the pool and—’
‘It’s time to pack, Lucy.’ His voice was cool. ‘You’ll be leaving in an hour.’
She was aware of a rushing sound in her ears, her vision tunnelling, darkness creeping in around the edges. ‘What do you mean, leaving? You gave me your word that—’ She stopped dead as he thrust out his hand.
He held something small, square and blue.
A passport. A United States passport.
The rushing in her ears grew louder, her vision wavering, her breath coming short and hard. She didn’t understand. Why was he giving her a passport?
You know why.
She had an inkling. It was what she’d asked for when she’d initially come to him: an escape. To disappear to a new life in the States. With a new name and identity so no one would ever find her. Where she would be safe at last, just as her mother had wanted.
But that was before she’d realised he would never let her go the way she’d hoped. Before she’d accepted the weight of her own guilt and her need to make amends for the crimes she’d committed for her father. She’d accepted that her future was a cell and, if she wasn’t exactly happy about it, she wouldn’t balk at it either.
Except this was...not a cell. This was the escape she’d come to him to help her find.
‘I don’t understand.’ Her voice sounded hoarse. She glanced at the passport in his hand and then at him. ‘What does this mean?’
‘What do you think it means?’ There was only granite in the words, the hard edge of stone. ‘I’m not handing you over to the authorities, Lucy. I’ve organised a passport for you with a new identity, visas, social security numbers, everything you’ll need to start a new life in the States. Your father will never find you, I’ll make sure of it.’
She began to shake, the tremors starting in her stomach and moving outwards, to her hands and knees. This surely couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be giving her freedom. Not after everything he’d told her about justice and making amends. About guilt and the law and taking responsibility.
‘But...’ She tried to make sense of what was happening. ‘I was going to be handed over to the authorities. That’s what you were going to do and I—’
‘I changed my mind.’ His voice was like a blade, cutting her off. ‘I’m not going to hand you over to the police.’
‘Why not?’ She searched his face to find some signs of his reasoning, but there was nothing. His features were stone. ‘You were very clear that’s what you were going to do. I don’t understand why you’re changing your mind.’
‘You were forced into doing those things for your father, Lucy. You had no choice. And even if you had, you’ve paid many times over for those crimes.’
‘But I haven’t,’ she said hoarsely.
‘Haven’t you?’ His gaze cut like a knife. ‘Weren’t the years you spent as your father’s prisoner a jail term? Wasn’t that house he kept you in a cell? He took your mother from you, civetta. And that is a life sentence.’
She felt as if the ground had shifted under her feet. As if she were walking in quicksand that would suck her down at any moment. She’d never thought he’d change his mind. Never thought he’d present her with the freedom she wanted, enabling her to keep the promise she’d made to her mother long ago. A freedom she didn’t deserve...
Is that really true, though?
Something hot swept through her. He’d told her she wasn’t responsible, that she couldn’t blame herself, that she was worth saving, and then, over the course of the past couple of days, he’d shown her. He’d taken care of her, made her feel valued, made her feel precious, and more—he made her feel worth the sacrifice her mother had made for her.
‘You are worth saving, Lucy Armstrong...’ he’d told her, and he’d believed it. This beautiful, passionate, strong man who’d changed her, healed her...
She stared at him and the ground kept shifting, the landscape kept changing, that hot, bright emotion continuing to sweep through her, crushing everything in its path. It was raw and intense and it filled her with strength, made her feel ten feet tall and bulletproof.
And she knew what it was. She knew the truth deep in her heart, in her soul.
The feeling was love.
Was this what her mother had felt when she’d protected her? This sweep of power? Blinding and sure and so utterly certain. A burst of purity, filling her with a confidence she’d never dreamed she’d have.
She’d been so afraid of this feeling all this time. Afraid of its power. The kind of power that made someone stay with someone who hurt them. That made them give up their lives for someone else. But she understood now, she got it.
Love wasn’t something to fear, it was something to embrace. Because love was strength and it was courage, and that was what her mother had drawn on to take that blow to protect her. Her love for her daughter.
Lucy’s eyes filled with sudden tears. She couldn’t let that sacrifice be in vain. Her mother hadn’t just wanted a life for her, she’d wanted her to be happy. And that was the best monument, wasn’t it? Happiness? Not just for her, but for him too, because they’d both been through terrible things and they deserved it.
They deserved to have a future. And it would be love that would give them that future.