Page 74 of Sasha’s Secret

Frank’s grief had torn him apart, quickly transforming into a cold, deadly rage that had also infected his children. That rage had led directly to a dark lust for revenge. The opportunity to take that revenge had come when a cyberstalker, not content with polluting Linzi’s social media accounts with all manner of disgusting suggestions, had progressed to sending her anonymous “gifts” of roadkill. Gerry Brookes had deemed that his star client needed a head of security, and so Frank Schofield had been recruited into the position.

What no one had known was that Sandra Schofield Powell had created the stalker, and her father had been responsible for sending the packages. Sandra’s skill and talent with IT had then played a major part in Frank’s appointment as the security chief, after she’d hacked into the computer system used by the specialist consultant handling the recruitment process. Thanks to her manipulation of the applications, Frank had been the last candidate standing, so Gerry had had no choice but to offer him the job. After that, Frank had simply bided his time, waiting for the right moment to bring his son onto the team.

Once the two of them were in place, it had simply become a case of building up a solid, unblemished reputation until it was time to strike. Sandra had played her part again, using her technical expertise to create the cyber threats once more, to hack into various computer systems to corrupt information relating to the family, and to cover her tracks—until Charity and Tex had collaborated in tracking her down and identifying her, courtesy of one simple mistake.

The threats, bullying and intimidation had been intended to drive Linzi into committing suicide, but with Sasha running interference—unknown to Frank—that plan had failed. They had then switched their strategy to kidnapping the singer and demanding an astronomical ransom for her safe return.

Except… there wouldn’t have been a safe return. The official investigation had uncovered incontrovertible proof that Frank had wanted to do to Linzi’s family what a member of her family had done to his. And as if the documents and emails found on the computers owned by all three Schofields hadn’t been enough, Frank had shown not one iota of remorse as he’d described to the police how he planned to put a gun to Linzi’s head, tell her exactly why she was going to die, and then put a bullet in her brain, before he and his family fled to a country where there was no extradition treaty with the US.

The Diamond ACE Music Awards were supposed to have provided the perfect opportunity for the final phase of their plan. Brian had planted the bombs twenty-four hours earlier, and on receiving the go-ahead via text from his son, Frank had triggered them with a burner phone while on the way to pick up his son and their target. The purpose of the bombs had not been to cause serious material damage, but to create confusion and act as a diversion while they carried out the kidnapping.

During his time in the military, Rocco had fought and killed for the greater good—and not always at a distance—but the cold-blooded intent behind the Schofields’ planned abduction and murder of Linzi Suto, not to mention the ruthless execution of her boyfriend, had chilled even him to the bone. Theirs was a different kind of evil, and with their confessions now a matter of record—and a total lack of remorse for what they’d done and for the lives they’d ended—the death penalty was almost guaranteed.

The atmosphere at Casa Millefiori remained as volatile as an ocean storm. Continuing distress and turmoil rolled through the place at every level. While his job there might have come to an end, Rocco was of the opinion that he shouldn’t leave yet. For him, there was a sense of unfinished business, and it wasn’t all connected with Sasha, or even his recommendations for upgrades to the estate’s security operations once the new head of security was confirmed.

No, in his quieter moments, what weighed so heavily on his mind was the disintegration of the Schofield family. The loss they’d suffered reminded him keenly of how his own family had lost one another.

Or rather, how he’d lost them—his father, Nonna, his cousins and their families—by turning his back on them. What he’d once viewed as shackles that would enslave him to a life he’d rejected, he now saw as the loving support of a close-knit family. What had happened to the Schofields—the loss of a wife and mother, taken in isolation from what had followed—had cracked the walls of denial he’d built around his own heart, and what he felt for Sasha was widening that breach every day.

Futile though it was, a part of him wished he could go back to those summers in Sicily, when Nonna had tried to teach a teenaged Rocco how to make pasta from scratch and he’d gorged himself on her cannoli, flavored with lemons from the groves on a neighboring farm. He found himself growing to hate the distance between him and his father—not just geographical but emotional, too. Dario wasn’t getting any younger, and neither was Nonna. One day they’d both be gone, and what then?

When all was said and done, what else was there but family?

* * *

A few weeks later, after winter had given way to spring and bluebonnets bathed the Hill Country in color, Rocco knew he was running out of time. The fragments of his life swirled around him in total confusion. Awake in the early hours, with little else to do but think, all he could see was the unending conflict between all the things he wanted in his life but were mutually exclusive. On the one hand, he wanted his family back, but on the other, he wanted Sasha, for now and forever. Whichever way he looked at it, though, he couldn’t have both. One would have to be sacrificed for the other, and he would have to make that decision.

A deep sigh welled up from the overwhelming pit of misery inside him. A small movement beside him drew him out of his thoughts and reminded him he wasn’t alone in bed. He hadn’t spent a night alone since he’d told Sasha he loved her.

The woman he couldn’t stop thinking about moved again, and he found himself gazing into her eyes. The way she was looking at him tore him apart. She was lying on her stomach, partly on him, and her hand lay over his heart. The symbolism didn’t escape him. He’d delivered his heart into her hands weeks earlier.

“There’s something about this time of day that encourages the type of conversation you shy away from in daylight.” She kissed his chest. “When it feels as if the whole world is asleep, apart from us, and we can share the things we don’t want the world to hear. Our most secret hopes… or our most horrifying fears. Whatever we talk about, when the light’s just like this, it stays here, suspended in time… where it can be forgotten, if that’s the way it has to be.”

The quiet undercurrent of vulnerability in her soft voice broke his heart wide open. She was asking him to talk to her. Perhaps it was time. He shifted position so he could enfold her in his arms and hold her close. She draped her leg over his so her thigh was nudging his cock and balls.

“How am I supposed to think when you do that?” he grumbled without rancor. “I’m only a man.”

“Not only a man—and not to me. I love you, and I can’t stand to see you like this. Please let me help.”

Rocco shifted so he could tuck her more closely into the protection of his body. The irony struck deep. What she needed protection from most was him. “Can we just stay like this for a while?”

His gruff request earned him a kiss, and a fresh burst of pain flooded through him. Everything he wanted and couldn’t have was in that soft, sweet contact.

“For as long as you want.” She wrapped her arm around his torso.

He wanted to say “How does forever sound?” but forever in her arms couldn’t be his. Whatever happened, his long-term future wasn’t in this country, and so he had to level with her. He owed her the truth about the worthless promise he’d made, that everything would be all right.

Because, not only would it not be all right—he was going to end it himself.

* * *

“Sasha, first of all, I’m sorry I haven’t been open and honest with you.”

Be careful what you wish for.

The words reverberated around her mind, taunting her with what might yet prove to be her own stupidity. If Rocco was going to open up, as she’d longed for him to do, then she could probably kiss goodbye to her fantasy about him accepting the role of Linzi’s head of security, so they could stay together. “Does that mean you’re going to be open and honest now?” She tried to keep her tone light and free of her inner anguish.

“I have to be. You deserve the truth… the whole story. Before I came here, I’d just finished my latest assignment. For personal reasons, I was considering resigning, thought it was time to move on. Ros Northwood, my boss back home, offered me the chance to come here instead. It wasn’t only for a change of scenery—it was to put some distance between me and my father.”