‘I had a good reason,’ Marco said through gritted teeth.
‘No. You didn’t.’ Claudia took a step closer to him and glared up into his face. ‘You dragged me maliciously into your sick vendetta because that was what you wanted. And you never allowed me the simple courtesy of defending myself against crimes I didn’t even know you believed me guilty of.’
‘What courtesy did Vasile give my family?’ Marco demanded. ‘Did he ask my father’s permission to seduce my mother into betraying him?’
‘That’s horrible,’ Claudia said. ‘But it has nothing to do with me.’
‘You’ve been involved with him,’ Marco accused.
‘No, I haven’t,’ Claudia declared. ‘Until a few days ago I hardly gave him any thought. I had no idea what he was like.’
‘Of course you knew,’ Marco said. ‘You told me he made your skin crawl.’
‘Just because I didn’t take to him on the few occasions I met him does not mean I knew what terrible things he was capable of,’ she said. ‘And Bianca didn’t know what he was like either.’
‘Don’t you dare bring Bianca into this,’ Marco said angrily.
‘Why shouldn’t I? This all started with Bianca.’ Claudia was picking up speed and there was no way she was going to let Marco dictate what she could and couldn’t talk about. ‘If you’d ever told her to watch out for Primo Vasile, she wouldn’t have been so vulnerable to him. She would never have talked to him or accepted a drink from him.’
‘Don’t tell me how to look after my sister,’ Marco grated. A surge of cold fury powered through him as he looked at Claudia. She would regret using his sister to argue against him.
‘Why not? You did a lousy job of it,’ she said. ‘You were so arrogant you assumed your protection of her was all encompassing. You tried to control her life—but instead you took her away from a true friend and kept her ignorant of a genuine threat to her safety.’
‘She would never have encountered Vasile if you hadn’t invited her to that party,’ Marco said. ‘She didn’t need to know about him and the level of depravity he stooped to when he destroyed our family.’
He glared at Claudia. How did she have the audacity to stand there and accuse him of failing his sister? She was the one who had done wrong. She was the betrayer—the snake in the grass.
‘Not when she was a child, I agree,’ Claudia said. ‘But, although she was still young when we met, she was a grown woman. There was every chance she was going to come across Vasile at some point.’
‘Not without a helping hand from you,’ Marco said, but a nasty stab of doubt pricked him.
Claudia was wrong. She had to be. He would have done everything to keep Bianca safe—she hadn’t needed to have her innocence sullied by knowledge of Vasile.
Except he hadn’t kept her safe. That harsh, uncompromising truth thrust itself into the front of his mind.
‘I knew nothing about it,’ Claudia said. ‘But a few days in your company and I’m starting to see how people like you and Vasile operate. I admit it’s perfectly feasible that somehow Vasile was tracking my friends and contacts. Maybe it was even Francesca who took me to the first event where I met Bianca. I don’t remember and it doesn’t matter.’ She took a breath and carried on. ‘If you were even halfway decent you would have genuinely given me the benefit of the doubt and talked to me. And I promise I would never have let Bianca come anywhere near Primo Vasile.’
‘Don’t compare me to a bastard like Vasile,’ Marco said, anger making his voice hard. ‘He is nothing but filth. The lowest sort of scum on this earth.’
‘You’re exactly the same,’ Claudia retorted. ‘You’ve been blinded by hate—it’s turned into an obsession. You’re so hell bent on revenge that you’ve lost any sense of right and wrong.’
‘I’m not like him.’ Marco rejected the idea furiously. ‘I would never do what he has done.’
‘You’ve already done it,’ Claudia cried. ‘You are guilty of all the same crimes.’
‘No,’ Marco said, suddenly gripping her arms with his hands. His blood was raging through his body, making him tremble with anger. She was going too far.
‘You seduced me, just like he seduced your mother,’ Claudia said. ‘All with the intention of destroying me and my family, the way he destroyed yours.’
‘It was not the same thing,’ Marco said, tightening his fingers on her arms to emphasize his words.
His head was throbbing, making it hard to think straight. But he knew she must be wrong.
‘It doesn’t matter what you say.’ Claudia stepped backwards, jerking out of his grip. ‘Whichever way you present it, it comes to the same thing. You are completely heartless.’
Suddenly a terrible expression passed across her face—a look of disgust combined with total devastation. Then, as if she was unable to bear another second with him, she turned and walked jerkily away.
He stood frozen to the spot, unable to make himself move to try and stop her. Then, just as she reached the door, she turned back and spoke.
‘Your hatred of Vasile has completely consumed you,’ she said. ‘And now, whether you admit it or not, you’ve become the man you hate.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
CLAUDIA flung herself across the veranda and staggered on to the sand, choking back the torrent of tears that was threatening to burst out of her. She would not cry in front of Marco. She would not cry until she was out of his sight.
She ran across the beach towards the sea, stumbling as the soft sand shifted beneath her feet, and finally sank down to her knees at the water’s edge, sobbing her heart out.
By that point she was beyond caring whether Marco could see her. She was beyond coherent thought. The anger that had fuelled her only moments before had completely evaporated, leaving behind a desolate shadow of the woman who had defended herself so passionately, fearlessly standing up to Marco and calling him out on his appalling actions.
All that was left of her was a helpless wretch, huddled alone on the beach, weeping in solitary misery.
She felt horribly bereft. It was as if she had lost someone profoundly important to her—yet she knew she was grieving for something she’d never really had. Nothing had been real.
It had all been a lie.
Marco watched Claudia stumble across the beach, gripped by a maelstrom of raging emotions. As she collapsed beside the water he realised at once that she was weeping. Suddenly the fury that stormed within him was extinguished, and something deep inside him contracted painfully.
Claudia had said he had no heart—but she was wrong.
He could feel it breaking as he watched her weep.
At that moment he knew with absolute certainty that every word she had ever told him was true. And that he had taken her trust, the innermost secrets of her soul, and he’d used them against her in the worst possible way. He’d manipulated her and abused her trust. He’d chewed her up and spat her back out.
Her final words—you’ve become the man you hate—echoed agonisingly inside his mind.
The idea that he had turned into a monster like Vasile was utterly abhorrent—yet the truth in her accusation lacerated his soul. She had been right when she’d told him that his need for revenge had blinded him to what was true.
All along something inside him—which he’d forced right to the back of his consciousness—had recognised the signs of her innocence. His heart had known the truth, but his mind, filled with hatred and the obsessive need to avenge his family, had overpowered that truth. The anger that had driven him since his mother’s betrayal had consumed him and he had chosen how to interpret everything Claudia had ever said or done, according to his own warped agenda.
When she’d told him that Vasile and Francesca were blackmailing her into marriage, he had believed her. In fact, he’d even felt a flash of concern for Claudia. But he had chosen to brutally suppress it, because it didn’t fit in with his preconceived ideas about her. Instead he had concentrated on the cold satisfacti
on he’d felt, knowing that Vasile was desperate enough to do such a reckless thing.
Nothing had added up, but he had ploughed on regardless—too arrogant to re-evaluate.
Too scared to expose the chink in his heart.
A thunderbolt of understanding hit him square in the chest, making his heart thud and his eyes widen as he stared across the beach at Claudia.
He’d been too scared to expose his heart to her for one simple reason.
He was in love with her.
He’d been in love with her since the summer when they’d first met.
But she was the daughter of his enemy’s partner. She’d been living in the home that should have been his. It had been impossible for him to admit those feelings—even to himself.
But, despite his constant denial, his feelings were real. That was why he’d spent so much time with her and why he had trusted Bianca with her, even though there’d been a niggle at the back of his mind telling him that he should keep his sister away from anyone even remotely connected to Vasile.
When Bianca had fallen into danger, he had to blame someone. He couldn’t bear to admit that his love for Claudia had made him careless with his sister’s safety. That he’d let her go unaccompanied to that party so that he could spend a blissful weekend alone with his lover.
He’d reacted instinctively, falling back on past prejudices and misconceptions. When his friend had called from Turin that night to tell him what had happened, it had been easier to blame Claudia. He’d lowered his guard and he couldn’t stand feeling exposed. Even the mere possibility that Claudia had played him was intolerable—so he had clamped his heart shut and left.
Now he looked at her through the frame of swaying palm trees that surrounded the villa and he cursed himself.
All along she’d been open and honest with him, trusting him with treasured memories and secrets that were deeply meaningful to her. The young woman who spoke with such heartfelt emotion about the loss of her mother, about her beloved grandmother teaching her to bake and about her distress over her father’s illness could never have been guilty of the things Marco had blamed her for.
Suddenly Marco felt his eyes filling with moisture.
He blinked in surprise and put his hand up to touch his face. It was wet with tears.
He never wept. Not even the night when his father had died and he’d discovered what Vasile had done to his family. That night he had barricaded his heart and filled his head with plans for revenge.
But now, somehow, Claudia had penetrated the ice packed around his heart. His defences had crumbled away, leaving him open and exposed. He was feeling her pain as sharply as if it were his own.
He couldn’t bear to think of Claudia suffering, but her pain was all his fault. He longed to run across the beach to her, enfold her in his arms, tell her how sorry he was and beg for her forgiveness.
But that wouldn’t erase all the agony he had caused. And he knew she wouldn’t believe him. He had lied to her too much for her to believe him now.
He rubbed the back of his hand roughly across his face and dragged his eyes away from the window. Watching her sitting on the beach wouldn’t help. He had to find a way to make things better. He had to find a way to prove he loved her.
The next morning Claudia stood on the powder-soft sand, letting the crystal clear water lap gently over her feet. She was slowly sinking. With every suck and pull of the waves the white sand shifted slightly until it was covering her feet, almost up to her ankles.
She couldn’t seem to move. She just didn’t have the energy.
She’d spent a sleepless night all alone in the magnificent four-poster bed, staring miserably at the sumptuous silken fabrics that draped tastefully around her, thinking about Marco and all the times they had spent together.
It was so hard to believe that it had been meaningless, but she had to accept it. She ought to leave—she didn’t think Marco would try to stop her—but somehow she just couldn’t. She’d never felt so desolate in her entire life.
Very late that evening she was due to meet Francesca and Vasile for the wedding—it was strange to think that right at that moment they were somewhere over the Atlantic, flying unawares into Marco’s trap. Presumably that was what had kept him busy all night, talking on his mobile phone, tapping emails into his laptop computer.
She could have called them, warned them of Marco’s intentions, but she believed he was telling the truth about their illegal activities. They had definitely tried to blackmail her, by lying about her father’s health and falsely accusing him of theft. However, although she wouldn’t try to stop Marco, she had no intention of going with him to be present when he challenged them. She wasn’t interested in that. She just wanted to fly home and be with her father.
She knew he would be all right if Francesca went to prison. They had been living virtually separate lives for years. Claudia suspected that if her father wasn’t so kind hearted he would have divorced her a long time ago.
A sound coming from behind her drew her out of her thoughts and she glanced over her shoulder to see Marco only a few feet away. He was coming towards her across the beach, looking absolutely awful. A sharp jab of concern for him went through her as she took in the pained expression on his face. There were dark circles under his haunted eyes and his jaw was shadowed black where he hadn’t taken the time to shave.
‘Are you all right?’ She spoke instinctively, momentarily forgetting that she wasn’t supposed to care whether he was all right or not. She tried to turn to face him, but her feet were still buried under the sand and she stumbled.
Marco was at her side in an instant, gently holding her steady. For a moment she thought he was going to pull her into his embrace—that was what she longed for him to do—but then, once he was certain she had regained her balance, he let go of her and stepped away.
Her heart sank, although she told herself she was stupid to even think about Marco embracing her ever again.
‘My feet got stuck.’ She said the first thing that came to her mind and lifted her gaze to meet his. ‘You look awful,’ she added. ‘What happened? Has something gone wrong with your plan?’
‘Everything was wrong with my plan,’ Marco said. ‘It was my plan that made me hurt you so badly.’
Claudia frowned up at him, letting his dark eyes delve deep into her eyes for the longest moment. He looked sincere. But, despite the small spark of hope that ignited within her, that maybe he’d realised that he’d been wrong about her, she had to be cautious.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I am sorry for everything—I’ve been so wrong. I am entirely to blame.’
‘It’s not your fault that Primo and Francesca tried to blackmail me,’ Claudia replied, trying to keep her emotions steady. She didn’t know where Marco was going with this unexpected apology but she had no reason to trust him. She’d done that in Wales, even knowing how he’d left her so coldly four years earlier, and it had brought her nothing but distress.
That wasn’t entirely true, a tiny voice inside her head insisted. She’d been happy that evening in Wales. He’d brought her comfort, despite the fact that he was working towards his own goals. And he’d taken her to Turin and discovered that her father was not terminally ill.
‘It was my fault,’ Marco said. ‘I could have ruined Vasile years ago—then he couldn’t have touched you. But that wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to hound him and make him suffer. I pressurized him intentionally, hoping he would be forced to take desperate measures that would give me something good to use against him. That was what drove him to embezzlement and finally to blackmail.’
Claudia stared at Marco, a bewildering array of thoughts and emotions bombarding her.
‘I’d tear out my heart and give it to you,’ Marco said, suddenly catching hold of her hands and holding them close to his chest. ‘I’d do it in a heartbeat if it would help to make you feel even the slightest bit better.’
‘I don’t want that,’ Claudia said. ‘Ho
w would your suffering help me?’
‘I’m sorry for everything I did,’ he said again. ‘I know that will be hard for you to believe, after everything I’ve done to hurt you.’
‘I want to believe you,’ Claudia whispered, looking up at him. The emotional distress he was feeling was evident in his tortured expression, and she pulled her fingers out of his grasp to reach up and cup his face with her palm. His skin was warm and his stubble rough against her palm.
For a moment he closed his eyes and leant his cheek into her caress. Then, almost as if he couldn’t allow himself even that small amount of comfort, he tipped his head away and looked at her.
‘I wanted to do something—give you something—to prove I mean what I say,’ Marco said. ‘At first I couldn’t think of anything. There is nothing that could ever be enough. I can never make up for what I did.’
‘You don’t have to do anything,’ Claudia said. ‘I believe you’re sorry.’
And it was true. Somehow, deep inside, she knew he was sincere.
But she didn’t want his apology. She didn’t want his suffering.
She wanted him to love her—like she loved him.
‘Come inside with me,’ Marco said, taking her by the hand and leading her up the beach to the villa.
When they reached the doorway Claudia stopped in her tracks and stared into the huge living room in surprise. She had gone down to the sea through the bedroom door that morning and hadn’t seen what Marco had done in the living room. No wonder she had heard him moving about half the night.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Claudia said, letting her gaze run over the gorgeous Christmas decorations that adorned the entire room. There was even a Christmas tree standing tall and proud by one of the elegant windows, sparkling with multicoloured lights.
‘No, not that,’ Marco said, leading her into the room and pulling her down on to the sofa beside him. ‘Well, yes, I did decorate for you. But this is what I want you to see.’
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