1. Amara
Amara
Three weeks earlier
The water cradles me like a second skin as I float with my arms outstretched and on my back in the infinity pool. Beyond the glass fence, the Pacific Ocean stretches, endless and blue. The sun glints like diamonds on the water.
My earbuds are in, but no music plays. Instead, I listen to the argument drifting down from the terrace above.
“It’s the best offer you're going to get, Helena.” Dom’s voice carries that edge of finality. “Two million. Take it and walk away.”
“Two million?” Her laugh is brittle. “I deserve twenty-five, minimum. For what I’ve put up with being with you.”
A splash of water rolls over my face as I adjust my position. The sun burns hot overhead, but a chill runs through me at my mother’s response.
“Put up with?” The ice in Dom’s tone could freeze hell over. “The vacations? Credit cards? Staff waiting on you, hand and foot?”
“I’m taking you to court. My lawyer says—”
“By all means.” Dom’s laugh holds no humor. “Though you might want to ask that lawyer what rights you have.”
The water suddenly feels cold against my skin. I close my eyes, knowing what’s coming.
“What are you talking about?” Mother’s voice rises. “We’re married!”
“Are we? Show me the marriage certificate.”
“We had a ceremony—”
I float in the pool, the water lapping at my ears as I listen to the argument above. Another argument. I just wish she would take the money and take us from here. But soon I’ll have enough money of my own.
“A blessing. Nothing legal. Nothing is binding.” Each word drops like a stone. “Check the records if you don’t believe me.”
The silence stretches, broken only by the lap of water against the pool’s edge.
Then comes the sound of breaking glass - probably another of Dom’s crystal tumblers meeting its end against a wall.
Helena is good at that.
Her heels click rapid-fire across the terrace, followed by the slam of the French doors.
Minutes after the silence finally falls, I hear the heavy tread of Dom’s footsteps as he approaches the edge of the pool. I watch him from behind my sunglasses, sinking into one of the lounge chairs, a glass of bourbon in his hand.
His jaw is clenched, the muscles working as he takes a long sip. I know better than to speak right now. When Dom gets like this, it’s best to let him simmer down on his own.
Sure enough, after a few minutes, he turns his piercing blue gaze on me. “Did you hear everything?”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
The sound of heels on marble makes me tense, and I glance up to see my mother striding towards the edge of the pool, her face twisted in a scowl.
“Amara! There you are, moping around the pool as usual.” She tosses her perfectly coiffed hair over one shoulder. “When are you going to stop acting like a hermit and get yourself a boyfriend?”
“I’m relaxing.”
“You need to get out of this house!” she yells as she turns to Dom. “It’s bad for the soul being in here.”
Dom’s eyes narrow, and he opens his mouth, but I beat him to it.
“I’m thinking about going to the Conti party. Poppy wants to go too.”
She purses her lips and nods lightly. “Well, you should listen to me and seriously consider Mateo as a boyfriend. He’s the perfect mafia man. Better still, he’s a second son, so no responsibilities, and he’ll look after you.” She shoots a dirty look in Dom’s direction. “Unlike some people.”
“He likes to be called Con.” I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “He’ll also probably kill me. Con is a psycho.”
My mother laughs, the sound sharp and brittle. “Stop being so dramatic, Amara. Mateo is the most dangerous of all the Conti sons, but he’ll look after you, not hurt you.” She turns to Dom. “Maybe you should take a page out of his book and start taking care of your own.”
Dom’s grip tightens on his glass. I know I need to intervene before things escalate. “I might go to the party,” I say quickly. “We’ll see.”
My mother nods, apparently satisfied, and turns on her heel. Her heels click against the marble as she heads back inside the house.
As soon as she’s gone, I let out a long breath. “She’s full of it today.”
Dom raises his eyes. “My fault, I’m afraid.”
“It must be such a hardship being offered two million dollars.”
Dom’s expression softens slightly. “Oh, I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
“It’s okay.”
I swim to the edge of the pool and pull myself out. All the time, thoughts of Con linger.
I don’t like him. He’s dangerous and there is something about him that makes me never want to go anywhere near him, but perhaps that’s also what makes him perfect.
Maybe Mateo Conti is the only one who can protect me from the predicament I’ve found myself in.
I pull myself out of the pool, water streaming off my skin. My two-piece feels like a second skin, snug against me.
As I wring out my hair, I nearly bump into Dom.
He’s now leaning against the doorframe of the French doors, arms crossed, eyes roaming over me. His gaze lingers just a beat too long on my legs and curves before he meets my eyes.
His normally cold blue eyes hold a warmth today that feels almost comforting, but I shove those thoughts aside.
Dom is gorgeous—tall and built like a statue. He has almost-black hair that curls at his nape, a short beard that frames his jaw perfectly, giving him a rugged charm that will make any girl swoon despite being forty-seven years old.
I can’t go there.
I shake off the shiver that skitters down my spine from his intense gaze, and pretend to look around for my towel.
“About what you heard.” His voice is low and smooth.
I hold my hand up, dismissing him. “It’s none of my business.”
“Good. I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable and leaving because I’m here.”
“I’m not. I want to get out of the sun.” I brush past him toward the loungers, trying to find my towel, forcing myself to focus on something else.
“Be careful if you go to the party tomorrow. I won't be around for you to call on,” he says as he glances at the clock on the wall. “Your mother and I are leaving for Xander’s competition tomorrow at two.”
“Oh right.” Xander’s my stepbrother. He races go-karts; and is exceptionally good at it.
I’m more surprised my mother is going.
“And there’s an event after that,” he adds, his tone shifting slightly, as if recalling some unwelcome detail. “We’ll be back Monday.”
“It’ll be nice for you to get away from business,” I say and smile lightly, trying to mask the knot in my stomach that forms as I fish for information again.
“It will.”
“And if it’s just a nice break for the two of you. Who knows? You might fall in love again.”
Dom chuckles darkly, but there’s an edge to it. “There’s no again.”
My heart sinks a little as I watch him step back inside the house, shoulders tense beneath his fitted black shirt.
The idea of having the place to myself sends butterflies racing through me—no arguing parents or constant reminders of what is lurking outside these walls.
“Amara!” My mother’s sharp voice cuts through my thoughts as she steps onto the terrace again, her heels clicking angrily against the marble floor. “Cover yourself up. Caleb is here.”
I take a deep breath and roll my eyes.
She throws me a towel. “And make sure you wear something nice tomorrow at the party. You need to look nice for Mateo. You need to get closer to him.”
“Excuse me?” I wrap the towel around my body and pick up my phone, checking my messages.
“You need a boyfriend, Amara. Anything instead of sulking around here all day!”
She doesn’t have a clue how much I want to get away from here.
My heart constantly pounds against my ribs like a trapped bird seeking escape from this cage we call home.
Anger bubbles up as I shoot her a glare before storming off into the house and toward the staircase.
“Hi Amara,” Caleb says. I stop and turn. He steps closer. The dark frame of his glasses enhance his gray eyes as they stare into mine.
“Hey, Caleb.” I smile back, forcing myself to keep things light and hope that my body or flushed face doesn’t betray me.
I know I should step away. He’s my stepdad's best friend, and my professor at college. Whenever he comes to my home, I focus on keeping my voice casual and not like my heart is skittering against my breastbone. “What brings you here?”
“I’m playing golf with Dom this afternoon.” His hand pushes through his light brown hair as his eyes flicker around him.
“Golf,” I repeat.
“And I came to check on a party that Poppy mentioned. Something about going to the Conti house tomorrow evening.” He pauses, leaning casually against the wall. “I told her she could only go if you’re going.”
“Right.” I sigh. “I’m going.”
His gaze sharpens. “I’ll drive you there and back.”
I feel a flutter in my stomach at the thought of spending time with him, but I squash it down.
I nod slowly. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
“And…” He hesitates slightly before continuing, “you can sleep in the spare room at my place after the party. Dom mentioned he and Helena will be in Victoria for the weekend.”
My heart races as our eyes lock. I know what he’s implying, and for a moment I want it as everything else fades into his gaze.
“That works,” I say carefully, keeping my voice steady.
“Oh! That’ll be wonderful!” Mother interrupts as she struts back into the house like a queen surveying her domain. “You and Poppy will have a great time together.”
Caleb clears his throat and gives her a tight smile while my insides twist with irritation.
Can’t she take a hint?
“Thanks for coming by,” she adds brightly before disappearing into the kitchen.
As soon as she’s gone, Caleb leans closer to me, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “I’m looking forward to you staying.”
My teeth scrape over my bottom lip as I try to contain a grin.
The warmth from his body radiates towards me; I fight against wanting to lean into him. “Are you?”
“Oh, and Caleb.” Helena comes back from the kitchen with a glass of champagne in her hand. “Don’t be keeping my husband out all night. We have a flight tomorrow.”
I don’t wait for Caleb to reply. I step away from him and head to the staircase. With each step I take, I feel his eyes burning into me from behind.
“I won’t,” he replies.
“Have a nice game,” I say at the top of the staircase as heat creeps up my neck.
“I’ll try.” He gives me one last lingering look that sends shivers through me. But I have to get to my bedroom. Time is running out.
SweetJustice gave me ten minutes to get online and wait for his instructions.
I check the message on my phone again. Then I connect to the Pampered Princess website, the one I joined to save up enough money to get away from here. To have a normal life, travel the world and have some fun.
Even if it means leaving Caleb behind.
I slip into my room and lock the door, my hands trembling as I pull open my desk drawer. The blonde wig and the baby pink lace mask lie there, a reminder of what I’ve become.
While logging into the Pampered Princess website, my heart pounds against my ribs.
It only slows when I see he’s not online yet.
The door handle jiggles, and I slam the drawer and my laptop shut.
“Amara?” Mother pushes the door open, and I try to steady my breathing. “This door keeps getting stuck?”
“I thought I locked it.” I force a smile, though my insides are twisting.
She perches on the edge of my bed, studying me with those calculating eyes. “I know you think I’m being pushy about Mateo, but I only want what’s best for you.”
My throat tightens. Despite everything, I know she means it. In her own warped way, she wants me safe, protected, even if it’s with a mafia man. “I know, Mom.”
“Good.” She kisses my forehead and leaves, closing the door behind her.
I wait until her footsteps fade down the hallway before reopening the laptop.
My cursor hovers over his profile picture, and my stomach lurches.
There I am, standing next to Mr. Anderson outside the fancy restaurant we had lunch at.
His arm is around my shoulder as he presses a kiss against my cheek.
Funny, but the meeting was innocent, yet SweetJustice believes the picture implies he is my sugar daddy.
He is wrong, but in the wrong hands…in Dom’s hands... The thought makes me sick.
The message notification blinks:
SweetBunny,
You’re failing.
I need more information from you.
And a little birdy told me that your stepdad’s plane is booked to leave the Gold Coast Airport at 2 PM tomorrow. I’ll give you until 7 PM tomorrow to send me the information I need.
You know the consequences.
SweetJustice
My fingers grip the edge of the desk until my knuckles turn white. Maybe Mom’s right. Maybe Mateo Conti, with all his darkness and danger, is the only one who can protect me from this nightmare.