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‘So you keeping me against my will is meant to be part of my punishment?’
He smiled. ‘You don’t have to stay. You have many options available to you. You can call the police, tell them I’m holding you against your will, although that would be hard to prove since three hundred people saw you chase after me last night. Or you can insist I return your things and reinstate your lease. If you choose to walk away, no one will lift a finger to stop you.’
‘But that’s not quite true, is it? What real choice do I have when you’re holding a threat over my father’s head?’
‘Leave him to flounder on his own if you truly believe you’re guilt-free in all of this. You want to make a run for it? Here’s your chance.’
His pointed gaze went to the door and Eva realised they’d completed the short journey from the bank to the iconic building that had brought Zaccheo into her life and turned it upside down.
She glanced up at the building Architectural Digest had called ‘innovative beyond its years’ and ‘a heartbreakingly beautiful masterpiece’.
Where most modern buildings boasted elaborate glass edifices, The Spire was a study in polished, tensile steel. Thin sheets of steel had been twisted and manipulated around the towering spear-like structure, making the tallest building in London a testament to its architect’s skill and innovation. Its crowning glory was its diamond-shaped, vertiginous platform, within which was housed a Michelin-starred restaurant surrounded by a clear twenty-foot waterfall.
One floor beneath the restaurant was Zaccheo’s penthouse. Her new home. Her prison.
The sound of him exiting the car drew her attention. When he held out his hand to her, she hesitated, unable to accept that this was her fate.
A muscle ticced in his jaw as he waited.
‘You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Me helping you bury my father?’
‘He’s going down either way. It’s up to you whether he gets back up or not.’
Eva wanted to call his bluff. To shut the door and return everything to the way it was this time yesterday.
The memory of her father in that hospital bed, strung up to a beeping machine, stopped her. She’d already lost one parent. No matter how difficult things were between them, she couldn’t bear to lose another. She would certainly have no hope of saving her relationship with her sister if she walked away.
Because one thing was certain. Zaccheo meant to have his way.
With or without her co-operation.
CHAPTER SIX
EVA BLEW HER fringe out of her eyes and glanced around her. The guest suite, a different one from the one she’d slept in last night, was almost three times the size of her former bedsit. And every surface was covered with designer gowns and accessories. Countless bottles of exclusive perfumes and luxury grooming products were spread on the dresser, and a team of six stylists each held an item of clothing, ready to pounce on her the moment she took off the dress she was currently trying on.
She tried hard to see the bright side of finally being out of the red dress. Unfortunately, any hint of brightness had vanished the moment she’d stepped out of the car and re-entered Zaccheo’s penthouse.
‘How many more before we’re done?’ She tried to keep her voice even, but she knew she’d missed amiability by a mile when two assistants exchanged wary glances.
‘We’ve done your home and evening-wear package. We just need to do your vacation package and we’ll be done with wardrobe. Then we can move on to hair and make-up,’ Vivian, the chief stylist, said with a megawatt smile.
Eva tried not to groan. She needed to be done so she could find her phone and call her father. There was no way she was twiddling her thumbs until Monday to get a proper answer.
Being made into Zaccheo’s revenge punchbag...his married revenge punchbag...wasn’t a role she intended to be placed in. When she’d thought there was a glimmer of doubt as to Zaccheo’s threat being real, she’d gone along with this farce. But with each hour that passed with silence from her father, Eva was forced to believe Zaccheo’s threats weren’t empty.
Would he go to such lengths to have her choose precious gems, remove her from her flat, and hire a team of stylists to turn her into the sort of woman he preferred to date, if this was just some sort of twisted game?
Her hand clenched as her thoughts took a different path. What exactly was Zaccheo trying to turn her into? Obviously he wasn’t just satisfied with attaining her pedigree for whatever his nefarious purposes were. He wanted her to look like a well-dressed mannequin while he was at it.
