His mouth tightened. His hands clenched and unclenched by his sides. Holly got the feeling he was at war with himself. Fighting back the impulse to reach for her. ‘Fine,’ he said at last. ‘Leave. I’ll call Natalia and get her to pick you up. You won’t be able to leave the country until your community service time is up.’
Holly knew it would be the longest three days of her life.
* * *
Julius stood in a stony silence as Holly was driven away by her caseworker. It felt as if his heart was tied to the rear of the car. The tugging, straining, gutting sensation took his breath away. He was sure she was lying and yet...and yet what if he was wrong? What if she had set him up from the start? She was a troublemaker. A rebel. She had openly admitted to wanting to make his life difficult. He thought back to the pool. Both times she had lured him out there...hadn’t she? It had been her idea to make love out there. It wasn’t something he would normally do. She was always poking fun at his conservative nature. Was that why? So she could set him up and shame him the in the most shocking way possible?
But then he thought of how she had trusted him enough to tell him about the horrible stuff that had happened to her as a child. That wasn’t an act. She had the scars to prove it. Her stepfather was behind this photo scandal. He had to be. Julius just had to prove it. If he could make Holly feel safe by seeing justice served then maybe, just maybe, she would trust him enough to admit to her feelings.
He reached for his phone and called a close friend, Leandro Allegretti. Leandro was a forensic accountant who occasionally did some work for Jake’s business analysis company. They had gone to school together and Leandro had spent many a weekend or holiday at Ravensdene while they’d been growing up. If anyone could uncover secrets and lies, it was Leandro. He made it his business to uncover fraud, money laundering and other white-collar crime.
‘Leandro?’ Julius said. ‘Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I have a little project for you...’
* * *
Holly had finally made it to England. She had found a tiny flat in central London and even landed a job in a deli, which should have made her feel as if all her boxes were ticked, but she felt miserable. The weather was freezing, for one thing. And it never seemed to stop raining. She had spent years dreaming of the time when she would be here, doing normal stuff like normal people, and yet she felt lost. Empty. Hollow. As if something was missing. Even the shops didn’t interest her. She hadn’t heard from Julius, but then she didn’t expect to, not really. She had cut him from her life in the only way she knew how. Bluntly. Permanently.
But she missed him. She missed everything about him. The security she felt when she was with him was only apparent to her now it had been taken away. She had felt safe with him. Now she was anchorless. Like a paper boat bobbing about in the middle of the ocean.
Holly was on a tea break in a nearby café when she flicked through the day’s newspaper and her eyes honed in on an article that was only a couple of paragraphs long about a recent criminal charge in Argentina. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw her stepfather’s name cited as the man at the centre of the investigation that had uncovered a money-laundering and drug-running scheme that had gone on for over twenty years.
Holly sat back in her seat with a gasp of wonder. It had finally happened. Franco Morales’s lawyer said his client had pleaded guilty and bail was denied. How had that come about? Who was behind it? Who had shone the light of suspicion on her stepfather?
A cramped space inside Holly’s chest suddenly opened. Julius. Of course he would have gone after her stepfather. Hadn’t he promised he would not allow anyone to hurt her? He had been true to his word. He had taken on one of Argentina’s most notoriously elusive criminals and brought about justice. For her.
Holly shot out of her seat. She had to see him. She had to see him to thank him in person. To tell him...what? She sat back down in her seat. Huddled back into her coat. She didn’t belong in his world. How could she? She worked in a deli. She had no qualifications. He was the son of London theatre royalty.
And his mother hated her.
‘Is this seat taken?’
Holly looked up to see a woman standing next to the empty chair on the opposite side of the table. She looked vaguely familiar but Holly couldn’t quite place her. Maybe she had served her in the shop in the past week or so. ‘No; I’m leaving soon, in any case.’
The woman sat down. ‘You don’t recognise me, do you?’
Holly blinked as the woman took off her sunglasses. Why anyone would be wearing sunglasses on such a miserably wet day in London had occurred to her but then she figured it took all types. Now she realised it was all part of a disguise. A very clever one, too. No one would ever guess Elisabetta Albertini would frequent a humble little café in Soho dressed like a bag lady. ‘No,’ Holly said. ‘Even your accent is different. But then, I guess you can do just about any accent.’