Deadly Secrets

Chapter 1. EIVISSA VIBES

(Sienna)

I’m never drinking again.

That was all my brain could think as I emptied my stomach contents inside the toilet, and by contents, I meant the little booze that my system refused to process from last night. I couldn’t even keep track of how many times I’d told myself the same thing over the past three weeks since Sarah and I landed in Ibiza, but my promises had gone out the window every night I stepped foot inside Pacha.

We’d been planning this vacation since we began our final year at Rubin American Boarding School in Switzerland, and I was certainly testing my limits when it came to partying hard. Every day on the island felt like Groundhog Day. We’d kick-start the day by having breakfast in our villa, then chill at a different cala —those hidden beaches with crystal-clear waters that screamed Spanish paradise. When the sun dipped below the horizon, it was time to hit the club, and I’d be ready to hunt for my next prey. This usually meant searching for a cute Spanish guy to sweep me off my feet and help me forget the nightmare waiting for me back home.

Today was our last day on vacation. Sarah would return to England, and I would have to return to New York and face my parents.

When I stepped outside the bathroom, the sunlight blinded me momentarily as I tried to take in my surroundings. My head pounded, and I reeked of vodka.

Collapsing onto the bed, I grabbed my phone from the bedside table and saw it was ten o’clock. I’d barely managed to get three hours of sleep, and the loud snores from my right made my headache even worse.

I tried remembering what had happened the night before, but the last thing I could recall was drinking tequila shots with Pedro— or was his name Pablo? —and having one of the most disappointing fucks of my life. He wouldn’t have found my clit even if I drew him a map, so I guessed I had put as much energy into remembering his name as he did in making me orgasm.

I gave Pedro— well, let’s call him Pedro —a nudge in an attempt to wake him up.

“You need to leave.” He groaned but continued sleeping, so I kicked him until he opened his eyes.

“What?” He sounded disoriented.

I was being a bitch, but I didn’t care. I’d asked him to leave, but at some point, after our unremarkable night, I dozed off, and he’d stuck around.

“I said that you need to leave.”

“Are you always this friendly with your lovers?”

A lover? Please, last night could almost qualify as PG-13.

I pinched the bridge of my nose with my fingers to bring some relief. “I have a flight in five hours, and Sarah and I need to check out in two, so please grab your things and go.” My mood was souring by the minute. I would be home in less than twenty-four hours, something I wasn’t looking forward to.

Mumbling something in Spanish that I couldn’t quite make out, Pedro quickly dressed, collected his belongings, and headed for the bedroom door. Just before reaching for the doorknob, he paused and turned around.

“Can I have your number?” he asked.

“What for?” I deadpanned. “I live in the US. I don’t see the point.”

“Joder cómo se ha levantado la americana...Well, nice meeting you, Sienna. It was fun.”

I didn’t respond. While he might have had a great night, mine had been anything but below average.

As soon as he left, I wasted no time and made a beeline for the shower. I had less than two hours to pack my things and have breakfast, and given my current condition, it felt like insufficient time.

* * *

I dragged my feet downstairs until I reached the back garden, where Sarah enjoyed breakfast. We’d secured a stunning Mediterranean villa with breathtaking sea views overlooking the pebbly beach at Platja des Codolar. Even after three weeks, the sight continued to leave me breathless.

“Good morning, beautiful,” she exclaimed cheerfully. Sarah was in a good mood, which made me suspect that her night had likely been more enjoyable than mine. I wanted so badly to smack that smile off her face…

“Hey,” I grunted in response to her happy-go-lucky attitude. Sarah laughed while she poured me a cup of coffee. I sat beside her and arranged some toasted bread on my plate. After drizzling some extra virgin olive oil over it, I added a couple of slices of jamón serrano .

God, I love Spanish breakfasts.

“I spotted Pablo heading out about half an hour ago.” So he was Pablo, not Pedro. Oops. My bad. “He seemed a little upset. What did you say to the poor guy?”

“The poor guy? Worst fuck of my life, good riddance.”

I was being unreasonable, but Sarah knew me well enough to realize that Pablo wasn’t the issue. I’d been avoiding any conversation related to my summer internship at Cos Pharmaceuticals, the company my dad started five years before I was born. “Shall we grab something to eat on our way to the airport?”

“C’mon, Sienna. Stop deflecting. Tell me what’s going on.” Sarah sighed. “You’ve been a bit off the entire trip. You’ve always been a wild card, but you’ve never been this careless or insensitive. Have you talked to your parents yet?” Sarah was right, and as much as I was inclined to continue skirting around the topic, my friend happened to be the most determined person on the planet, so I knew she wouldn’t let it slide.

“There’s nothing to tell. I’m supposed to start my internship in three weeks and go to college in September.”

“You don’t sound excited.” She took a sip of her coffee.

“I’m excited about college, but definitely not the internship.” The prospect of working for my father was far from appealing. Our relationship had deteriorated beyond repair when he decided to ship me off to Switzerland at age twelve. The last thing I wanted was to spend more time than necessary with him before I left for Stanford. Don’t get me wrong, I was genuinely grateful for meeting Sarah. Without her, my time in Rubin would have been a nightmare. “I’d rather drink piss, but it was a condition he imposed if I wanted him to cover my college tuition and expenses. If enduring a month of working with him means he won’t cancel my AmEx Platinum, then I’m willing to make that sacrifice.”

“You sound like a brat.” Sarah chuckled.

“You know I am.” I gently nudged her with my elbow. “My mom has been calling me nonstop, trying to convince me to go on vacation with them, but I can’t be bothered. I’d rather spend that time home alone.”

“Are you sure?” she pressed.

“Yes. If I must choose between preparing pellets to feed the lab rats or spending some quality time with them in Cabo, I’ll choose labor over hammocks. It’s the least painful option.” Sarah knew how I felt about returning home every summer. She could count with her two hands the number of times I had traveled back to New York in the past six years or how many times I had faked not being disappointed when my mother had called me saying they couldn’t visit because of my father’s demanding work schedule. His company had always been his priority, and as much as I didn’t want it to affect me, it did.

“Miles texted me,” Sarah added.

Miles and I dated for six months until I broke up with him a month ago. I could lie and say it was because I was going back to the US while he was heading to Australia, but the truth was that I’d grown tired of his stupid ass.

“What does he want now?”

“He said you’re not answering his texts.”

“Maybe Miles should take the hint and stop messaging me.” I’d been avoiding his texts for the past two weeks. He insisted on us staying friends and that he would come and visit me as soon as he could…

I hope he doesn’t show up in California because he won’t like the sound of my door hitting his tanned Aussie face.

We stayed silent for a few more minutes as we finished our breakfast, savoring our last moments of peace under the Spanish sun. An hour later, we were both packed and waiting for our local taxi driver to arrive.

Sarah would fly to London via Madrid, where we would say our goodbyes before I boarded my connecting flight to New York.

* * *

After an uneventful flight and several champagne glasses, I arrived at JFK International Airport eight hours later. As soon as the arrivals doors swung open, I immediately spotted my mom holding a bouquet. I took a deep breath and summoned my warmest smile as I approached her.

“My dear Sienna! I’ve missed you so much.” She squeezed me tightly as tears streamed down her face. Marie Moore stood at just five-three, but her strength more than made up for her petite stature. Her light brown hair was shorter than I remembered.

“You’ve cut your hair!” I beamed.

“Yeah, do you think it suits me? Your father insists it makes me look younger,” she remarked. Fortunately, I’d inherited my mom’s features—her cute nose, full lips, and sun-kissed complexion. With her short hair, she could easily pass for my older sister.

“You look fantastic. Speaking of the devil, where’s Dad?” She anxiously nibbled on her lower lip before replying to my question, yet even before she uttered a word, I could already anticipate the answer.

“I know he promised he would come too, but you know your father. Something urgent came up. He wanted me to tell you how sorry he is.” Her voice carried a tone of disappointment, but we both understood that disappointment was a recurring theme for Edward Moore. “Let’s go home. I’m eager to hear all about your trip to Ibiza.”