she would have been totally honest.
She heard a movement and saw Luca stride towards the front door, dressed now in black trousers and a black top.
He looked utterly intimidating, but Serena gathered all of her courage, stepped into the apartment again and said, ‘Wait, Luca, please. Don’t go.’
LUCA STOPPED AT the door, his hand on the knob. Had he even heard that? Or was it his imagination conjuring up what he wanted to hear from a siren who had him so twisted inside out that he barely knew which way was up any more?
He didn’t turn around and forced out a drawl. ‘What is it, minha beleza? You’re ready to come this time?’
He felt dark inside, constricted. He’d really thought he’d seen something incredibly vulnerable in Serena—he’d finally believed that she truly was exactly as she seemed—and then...wham! She couldn’t have made more of a fool of him if she’d professed undying love and he’d believed her.
There was no sound behind him and he whirled around, anger like a molten surge within him. When he saw the pallor of Serena’s cheeks and how huge and bruised her eyes looked he pushed down the concern that rose up to mock him and said scathingly, ‘Nice try, namorada, but I’m not falling for whatever part you want to play now. Frankly, I prefer a little consistency in my lovers.’
Luca went to turn and leave again, but Serena moved forward jerkily. ‘Please, just wait—hear me out.’
He sighed deeply, hating the ball of darkness in his gut. The darkness that whispered to him to run fast and far away from this woman.
He turned around and crossed his arms, arching a brow. ‘Well?’
Serena swallowed. Her hair was like a white-gold curtain over her shoulders, touching the swells of her breasts under the robe. Breasts that Luca could taste on his tongue even now.
Incensed that she was catching him like this, and yet still he couldn’t walk away, he strode past her over to his drinks cabinet and delivered curtly, ‘Spit it out, will you?’
He poured himself a glass of whisky and downed it in one. Hating that she’d even made him feel he needed the sustenance. His hand gripped the glass. He wouldn’t look at her again.
‘Serena, so help me—’
‘You were pushing me to talk...and I didn’t want to. So I pretended just now...pretended that I wanted to be alone. I didn’t mean what I said, Luca.’
Luca went very still. An inner voice mocked him. She’s still playing you. But he recalled the way she’d looked so hunted...just before something had come over her expression and she’d morphed into the ice queen in front of his eyes.
Slowly he put the glass down and turned around. Serena looked shaken. Pale. Yet determined.
‘I’m sorry.’
Her voice was husky and it touched on his skin like a caress he wanted to rail against.
He folded his arms. ‘Sorry for what?’
She bit her lip. ‘I wanted you to think that I’d had enough so you’d leave, but that’s not true.’
‘Tell me something I don’t know,’ Luca drawled, and saw how she went even paler.
He cursed out loud and went over to her, taking her by the arm and leading her to a couch to sit down.
‘Serena, so help me God, if this is just some elaborate—’
‘It’s not!’ she cried, her hands gripped together in her lap. ‘It’s not,’ she said again. ‘You were just asking me all these things and I felt threatened... I’ve never told anyone what happened. I’ve always been too ashamed and guilty that I didn’t do something to stop it. And for a long time I doubted that it had even happened...’
Luca knew now that this was no act. Serena was retreating, her mind far away. Instinctively he reached out and took her hands, wrapping them in his. She looked at him and his chest got tight. Damn her.
‘What happened?’
Her hands were cold in his and her eyes had never looked bigger or bluer.
‘I saw my father kill my mother when I was five years old.’
Luca’s mouth opened and closed. ‘You what?’
Serena couldn’t seem to take her eyes off Luca, as if he was anchoring her to something. Her throat felt dry.
‘When I was five I heard my parents arguing...nothing new...they argued all the time. I sneaked downstairs to the study. When I looked in through the crack of the door I could see my mother crying. I couldn’t understand what they were arguing about, although in hindsight I know it was most likely to do with my father’s affairs.’
Luca was grim. ‘What happened?’ he asked again.
‘My father backhanded my mother across the face and she fell... She hit her head on the corner of his desk.’
Serena went inward.
‘All I can remember is the pool of blood growing around her head on the rug and how dark it was. And how white she was. I must have made a sound, or something. The next thing I remember is my father dragging me back upstairs. I was crying for my mother...hysterical. My father hit me across the face...I remember one of my baby teeth was loose and it fell out... A doctor arrived. He gave me an injection. I can still remember the pain in my arm... The funeral...everything after that...was blurry. Siena was only three. But I can remember the doctor coming a lot. And once the police came. But I couldn’t speak to them. I wanted to tell them what I’d seen but I’d been given something that made me sleepy. It didn’t seem important any more.’
Her voice turned bitter.
‘He got it covered up, of course, and no one ever accused him of her death. That’s when it started. By the time I was twelve my father and his doctor were feeding my medication habit. They said I had ADHD—that I was difficult to control. Wilful. That it was for my own good. Then my father started saying things like bi-polar. He was constantly perpetuating a myth of mental uncertainty around me—even to my sister, who always believed that I tried to take my own life.’
‘Did you?’ Luca’s voice was sharp.
Serena shook her head. ‘No. But even though I denied it my sister was programmed by then to believe in my instability just like everyone else. My father even made a pretence of not allowing me to take drugs for the condition—while he was maintaining a steady supply to me through the doctor on his payroll.’
Luca shook his head. ‘But why didn’t you leave when you could?’
Serena pushed down the guilt. She had to start forgiving herself.
‘I couldn’t see a way out. By the time I was sixteen I was living the script my father had written for me years before.’
She reeled off the headlines of the time.
‘I was a wild child. Impossible to tame. Out of control. And I was addicted to prescription drugs... Siena was innocent. The good girl. Even now Siena still retains an innocence I never had. My father played us off against each other. If Siena stepped out of line I got the punishment...never her. She was being groomed as the perfect heiress. I was being groomed as the car crash happening in slow motion.’
Luca’s hands had tightened over hers and it was only then that Serena realised how icy she’d gone.
‘Why haven’t you ever gone to the police about your mother’s death?’
Shame pricked Serena. ‘Who would have believed disgraceful, unstable Serena DePiero? It felt hopeless. I felt hopeless. And