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Opening my eyes, I turn my head against the back of the spa and see him, a black silhouette hovering on the fringes of the terrace, one among the shadows. He separates himself from the backdrop of darkness and steps forward, slowly easing himself down to sit on the chaise lounge beside the tub. Without speaking, he leans forward and rests his forearms on his thighs, allowing his hands to dangle loosely between his legs.
Tension arcs between us, fairly sparking as he catches and holds my gaze with his. I shiver a bit and look away, deliberately allowing my chest to bob a bit out of the water. His eyelids droop as his gaze drops reflexively, the tip of his tongue darting out to lick his lips.
I smile to myself. Damon has worked religiously to ignore me for these past five years, but the temptation has always been there, mocking him and frustrating me.
If I could have just one person—other than Vivi, of course—want me and choose me regardless of my family’s name, it would be Damon. Such wishes are for fools, though.
“I see you finally decided to join the household once again,” I say, unable to keep the edge out of my voice. Damon has been gone for four days, giving us no word of explanation or even telling us when he planned to return. I had no idea where he was, no idea how to get in contact with him, as he didn’t seem to be receiving any of my messages. “Father’s been sick and asking for you, you know.”
He drops his head and looks at his hands, turning each palm to the sky like they contain the secrets of the universe. “I am aware,” he says.
That’s it. Just…
I am aware.
Irritation rolls through me, making me narrow my eyes and sit up a bit straighter in the bubbling water. His glance moves again to the hint of wet flesh and then lifts back to mine, unperturbed.
They’re hot, though, those eyes. Banked embers burn, turning the air around us to steam.
“These little side trips of yours, the ones you take without telling me, without giving me any explanation… they need to stop.” I don’t know where the words come from. They’re sparked, I suppose, by my aggravation that I’ve been left to deal with everything on my own and his refusal to explain or apologize for it. This is hisjob.
“Spoken like a true queen,” he murmurs, almost to himself.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s of no consequence,” he says, then continues on a sigh. “And I had matters to attend to.”
I relax back, the fight gone. He seems weary. Unhappy, even. “It’s fine, Damon. Father… he just wanted you, and you weren’t here. There’s something wrong with him.”
He’s been ailing for weeks, but whatever is making him ill has taken a sharp downturn this week. He’s spent the time in bed, his room dark and smelling of sour flesh and sickness, even though the staff has tended to his every physical need.
“I think he needs a different doctor,” I say, voicing the thought uppermost in my mind. “Whatever this one is doing doesn’t seem to be working.”
Damon’s eyes close briefly, then open. He stands and turns, slipping his hands into his pockets, then slowly, he turns back to face me. “Lulu… your father is dead.”
He ignores my sharp gasp, the water splashing as my hands fly up to cover my mouth, to prevent any of the craziness in my head from escaping.
No. Yes. What now? What comes next?
Everything.
Everything comes now.
He keeps going, strangely passionless, grimly efficient in his task of telling me my father is dead. “He passed quietly and comfortably just this past hour. I’m very sorry, Lulu.”
“Sorry.”
He’s sorry.I can’t prevent the huff of laughter that explodes from my lips. If he only knew the terrible thoughts running through my mind right now, he wouldn’t be telling me how sorry he is.
Father is dead, and instead of feeling grief, I feelfree. Lorenzo Valachi is gone, and I can do whatever I want—I canbewhomever I want to be.
I clear my throat. “How did he die?”
“I’m not certain, but from some things he hinted at, I think it was a brain tumor. I ordered an autopsy, so we’ll know more shortly.”
I let out a low hum of response.
A brain tumor.It makes sense. There were days, this past year in particular, that I thought he had completely lost his mind. He was gambling, and though he kept it relatively quiet, he was losing. And I’m pretty sure Damon was scrambling to douse fires Father had started with some of the crazy things he’d said.
