14. Amara
Amara
I slam my car door and rev the engine, tires screeching as I peel out of the side street next to Caleb’s street. My hands grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white.
“Fuck you, Professor Miles.” The words taste bitter in my mouth.
A sedan cuts me off, and I lay on the horn, my anger finding a new target. “Learn to drive, asshole!”
My phone buzzes. Another message from SweetJustice lights up the screen:
FINAL WARNING. GET THE INFO OR EVERYONE SEES WHO YOU REALLY ARE.
Fuck my life!
I open my mouth and let out the loudest scream.
But my anger has turned into something else. Fear.
As I pull into the road I live on, I blink back the tears that are threatening to storm down my face.
“Think—” I hiss to myself.
The house looms before me, all glass and modern angles.
Dom’s fortress.
Maybe I should just walk into his office and ask him straight up about Angels and Sinners. Get it over with.
Dom is going to Antonio’s tonight. I can ask him questions about that. It must have something to do with the important meeting in their safe room at Angels and Sinners.
Then I laugh.
I need to laugh instead of cry.
More than laughing, I need to figure out who SweetJustice could be. Obviously, it could be a stranger, but if it’s someone I know, what kind of information would they consider valuable?
I pull into the driveway, turn off the engine, and stare ahead as I decide on a plan.
In reality, I could give SweetJustice any information. How would they know if I made something up? I’ll take a picture of myself in the club to prove I’m there and then leave before I disappear to the airport and get the guy from London to rescue me on Sunday afternoon.
It makes so much sense.
I just have to leave.
Now what do I give SweetJustice to pacify him until Sunday comes? By the username, I can assume he’s a detective or someone associated with the police force.
Is it something to do with Detective Miles, Caleb’s brother? Worse than that, is Caleb helping him by keeping me close? He panicked at the thought of his daughter catching us. Maybe he is using me for any information about his best friend.
Bastard!
He is using me.
I’ll fucking show him.
But first I’ll let SweetJustice know the people in the meeting are all the mafia heads. And then I could pretend that the Columbian Cartel is coming to Australia to discuss importing drugs, or—
“I hate my fucking life.” I bang my head against the steering wheel. “What am I doing?”
But I get a grip and do what I need to do and send a return message.
SweetBunny: I’ll get something for you soon.
I will.
But I need to think about what that ‘something’ is. It has to be something big, I know that.
I get out of my car and head to the house.
Inside, a deep voice drifts down the hallway as I approach Dom’s office.
“Five million is the limit. No fucking more. Take it or else?” His voice drips with menace, and the rumble from his throat sends shivers down my spine.
I know who he’s talking to by the poison dripping from his voice.
I edge closer to the door, heart pounding.
A dark chuckle. “Yes, I am threatening you.”
Through the crack, I see Dom seated at his massive desk.
His piercing blue eyes lock onto mine and my breath catches.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I scramble backward, nearly tripping over my own feet as I flee to my bedroom. I can’t ask him what is going down in the club. He’ll kill me.
I pull my diary from underneath my mattress and pour onto the pages of everything happening in my life. From my blackmailer to Caleb, asking me to run away with him.
That’s what I have to do.
I log onto the Pampered Princess website and see the messages from HisPrincess. The man who asked me to live with him in London. I know by his profile name he thinks I’m going to be his sugar baby and give him whatever he craves.
I can do that. For a short time, at least.
I read his last few messages, especially the ones asking me to trust him. I can’t trust anyone right now. He can get me away from here, but I don’t need to spend my life with him. I just need to get out of Australia.
I chew my thumbnail as I consider if this is my only option.
I know it is.
My sister Lia has already been shot, making me understand just how much danger is here.
She warned us about this life, about these people, and she only came to the Gold Coast to look after her sisters and then… I suck back a sob. She’s the one who was hurt and I can’t help but feel responsible.
I told her I liked this life. I did. I liked the gifts, the money, the cars. But nothing is real. If I walk away tomorrow, I have nothing. Only the same as I had before we arrived in this opulent house.
No wonder Mom is trying so hard to get a good payout.
I glance back at the screen again, reading the last few messages from HisPrincess.
HisPrincess: It’s not too good to be true if you let me show you.
SweetBunny: How do I know you’ll actually come through for me?
HisPrincess: Get your passport. Go to the Gold Coast Airport on Sunday at four in the afternoon and I’ll be waiting.
My heart pitters against my breastbone as my finger hovers over the reply button.
SweetBunny: I’ll be there.
My stomach drops to the floor.
What the hell am I doing?
I have no choice. Once Dom and his mafia friends find out it was me who betrayed them, I’m as good as dead.
Yet for some strange reason, Dom’s words from our encounter in the pool slip into my head. “Because I want you.”
Dominic de Luca wants me.
Or does he?
Can I take the chance that he’ll save me?
I write the words he told me in my diary and a little about what happened with Dom in the pool.
I don't call him by his name, just use his initial.
Then laugh when I add Big to the D. He is big.
I felt so small when his muscular body pressed against mine.
How his tattoos looked like they came to life with the sunlight glistening over them as he towered over me.
But it doesn’t give me any clarity. Writing words down normally lets me see things differently—not today.
I drop back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling as I think about Dom. About how I need to find out something about him. Enough information that will bring him to his knees, no doubt. But he is so dangerous, and I'm already making him suspicious.
Can I take the risk with my plan, or will he see right through me?
Just as I hide the diary, my phone dings. I know who it is.
The final deadline is here.
Saturday is getting closer and the messages have been coming thick and fast since this morning.
I shimmy off the bed and read the message.
SweetJustice: I need more information. As well as wanting you to find out exactly who will be at the meeting, I need to know the time the mafia leaders are meeting. And who they are meeting.
I close my eyes and fall onto my bed. How on earth do I get that sort of information?
I grab my phone and type.
SweetBunny: Dom would never tell me that.
SweetJustice: Flutter those eyelashes and I’m sure he’ll tell you anything.
Oh my God, he wants me to seduce him.
SweetBunny: He’s my stepfather. I can’t flutter my eyelashes at him.
SweetJustice: Do what you need to do. Or your pretty little face won’t be able to hide behind your mask when everyone finds out exactly what you do to earn money.
An image of me with Dom pressing me against the pool wall flashes on the screen.
Another message comes with an image attached. It shows me in the pool with Dom. My legs wrapped around his waist.
SweetJustice: Is he your client too? How would he feel if this picture got out?
I’m frozen.
I don’t know how to respond.
But I do know the photo must have come from a street camera used to control parking around the beach.
And only someone in power would get access to that.
My phone rings—Mom’s name flashes on the screen. I want to ignore her and google Detective Miles, Caleb’s brother, but first I answer her call.
“Hi Mom,” I say, trying hard to keep my voice from sounding like I’ve lost all hope.
“Are you okay? You sound different.”
I laugh. “I’m fine.”
“You sound sad, baby?” she says. “If I tell you I have an apartment for you, me and Milly, how would you feel?”
“I’d like to get away from here,” I tell her. All I wanted was to stay here a little longer and finish my university course, but now I don’t really care. London seems like a much better escape plan.
“By the time you finish uni, I’ll have it decorated and it’ll be ready for you and your sister.”
I sigh. It’s too far away. Three more months of university feels like an eternity when I’m being blackmailed by someone who might be a police detective.
I glance at my laptop screen for the hundredth time, checking for a response from HisPrincess.
“I’ll need to go, Mom.”
“Tell me what color you want your bedroom painted, sweetheart. Oh, and the apartment has the most gorgeous views of the river.”
Is that all that matters to her?
I pull my knees up to my chest, trying to keep my voice steady. “That sounds great.”
“So you can come the moment you finish studying.”
A heavy sigh escapes me. One last try. “Why don’t we get on a plane tonight and fly to Europe?”
The pause on the other end of the line makes my stomach clench. Everything stops as I wait for her answer.
“You need your education, sweetheart. I don’t want that being ruined. We can travel as soon as you’re finished.”
“Okay.” The word comes out flat, defeated.
“I’ll see you one day next week. I’ll take you for lunch.”
“I’m back at uni next week.”
“Wow. That break flew by.”
“Yeah.”
I refresh the Pampered Princess page again. Still no response from HisPrincess. The clock in the corner shows nine am London time. My stomach churns. He’ll be awake and at work by now.
“Speak to you soon. I’m going to call Milly to tell her the good news.” Mom disconnects and I immediately switch tabs to check SweetJustice’s profile again. There must be something I missed, some clue to who’s behind this nightmare.
A notification pops up. My hands shake as I click to open it.
HisPrincess: I’ll be there.
A smile spreads across my face. Finally, a way out if I need it.
Now I can do what I need to do.