quickly work out how much you mean to me now.’ She laughed sadly. ‘And, besides that, I’ve always felt ashamed—ashamed that I let myself be persuaded into doing something I really didn’t want to do.’
‘When you say that I mean something to you now...’
‘I know what this is for you, Javier. You believed that I ran out on you, and when you had the chance, you figured you would take what should have been yours all those years ago.’
Javier had the grace to flush. What else could he do?
‘And, for a while, I kidded myself that that was what it was for me too. I’d dreamt about you for seven years and I’d been given the chance to turn those dreams into reality, except for me it was much more than that. You won’t want to hear this but I’ll tell you anyway. I never stopped loving you. You were the real thing, Javier. You’ll always be the main event in my life.’
‘Sophie...’ He closed the distance between them but only so that he could sit closer to her, close enough to thread his fingers through hers. His throat ached. ‘I’ve missed you so much. I thought I could walk away, just like I thought that sleeping with you would be a simple solution to sorting out the problem of you being on my mind all the time through the years. There, at the back of my mind like a ghost that refused to go away. You’d dumped me and married someone else. It didn’t matter how many times I told myself that I was well rid of someone who used me for a bit of fun until she got her head together and realised that the person she really wanted to be with wasn’t me... I still couldn’t forget you.’
Sophie thought that this was one of those conversations she never wanted to end. She just wanted to keep repeating it on a loop, over and over and over.
‘We slept together, Sophie, and just like that my life changed. Not having you in it was unthinkable. I didn’t even register that consciously until you presented me with that picture and I suddenly realised that I had succumbed to all the things I’d thought I’d ruled out of my life. You’d domesticated me to the point where I didn’t want to be anywhere unless you were there, and I hadn’t even realised it. I took fright, Soph. I suddenly felt the walls closing in and I reacted on instinct and scarpered.’
‘And now that you’re back...’ She had to say this. ‘I can’t have a relationship with you, Javier. I can’t go back to living from one day to the next, not knowing whether you’ll decide that you’re bored and that you have to take off.’
‘How could I ever get bored with you, Sophie?’ He lightly touched her cheek with his fingers and realised that he was trembling. ‘And how can you not see what I need to tell you? I don’t just want you, but I need you. I can’t live without you, Sophie. I fell in love with you all those years ago and, yes, you’re the main event in my life as well and always will be. Why do you think I came here? I came because I had to. I just couldn’t stand not being with you any longer.’
Sophie flung herself at him and he caught her in his arms, laughing because the chair very nearly toppled over.
‘So, will you marry me?’ he whispered into her hair and she pulled back, smiling, wanting to laugh and shout all at the same time.
‘You mean it?’
‘With every drop of blood that flows through my veins. Let me show you how great marriage can be.’ He laughed. ‘I never thought I’d hear myself say that.’
‘Nor did I.’ She kissed him softly and drew back. ‘And now that you have, I won’t allow you to take it back, so, yes, my darling. I’ll marry you...’
* * * * *
Maya Blake
‘ONE PLATINUM CHRONOGRAPH WATCH. A pair of diamond-studded cufflinks. Gold signet ring. Six hundred and twenty-five pounds cash, and...Obsidian Privilege Card. Right, I think that’s everything, sir. Sign here to confirm return of your property.’
Zaccheo Giordano didn’t react to the warden’s sneer as he scrawled on the barely legible form. Nor did he react to the resentful envy in the man’s eyes when his gaze drifted to where the sleek silver limousine waited beyond three sets of barbed wire.
Romeo Brunetti, Zaccheo’s second-in-command and the only person he would consider draping the term friend upon, stood beside the car, brooding and unsmiling, totally unruffled by the armed guard at the gate or the bleak South East England surroundings.
Had Zaccheo been in an accommodating mood, he’d have cracked a smile.
But he wasn’t in an accommodating mood. He hadn’t been for a very long time. Fourteen months, two weeks, four days and nine hours to be exact. Zaccheo was positive he could count down to the last second if required.
No one would require it of him, of course. He’d served his time. With three and a half months knocked off his eighteen-month sentence for good behaviour.
The rage fused into his DNA bubbled beneath his skin. He showed no outward sign of it as he pocketed his belongings. The three-piece Savile Row suit he’d entered prison in stank of decay and misery, but Zaccheo didn’t care.
He’d never been a slave to material comforts. His need for validation went far deeper. The need to elevate himself into a better place had been a soul-deep pursuit from the moment he was old enough to recognise the reality of the life he’d been born into. A life that had been a never-ending whirlpool of humiliation, violence and greed. A life that had seen his father debased and dead at thirty-five.
Memories tumbled like dominoes as he walked down the harshly lit corridor to freedom. He willed the overwhelming sense of injustice that had festered for long, harrowing months not to explode from his pores.
The doors clanged shut behind him.
Zaccheo froze, then took his first lungful of free air with fists clenched and eyes shut. He absorbed the sound of birds chirping in the late-winter morning sun, listened to the distant rumble of the motorway as he’d done many nights from his prison cell.
Opening his eyes, he headed towards the fifteen-foot gate. A minute later, he was outside.
‘Zaccheo, it’s good to see you again,’ Romeo said gravely, his eyes narrowing as he took him in.
Zaccheo knew he looked a sight. He hadn’t bothered with a razor blade or a barber’s clippers in the last three months and he’d barely eaten once he’d unearthed the truth behind his incarceration. But he’d spent a lot of time in the prison gym. It’d been that or go mad with the clawing hunger for retribution.
He shrugged off his friend’s concern and moved to the open door.
‘Did you bring what I asked for?’ he asked.
Romeo nodded. ‘Sì. All three files are on the laptop.’
Zaccheo slid onto the plush leather seat. Romeo slid in next to him and poured them two glasses of Italian-made cognac.
‘Salute,’
