Chapter 23

TWENTY-THREE

Sabella

The minute Angelo is gone, I get into my car and take the highway to the northeast. I clench the wheel to stop my hands from shaking, but that doesn't prevent the tears from streaming over my cheeks as I put my foot down on the accelerator.

I can't stop thinking about the fact that Angelo paid for this car. I can't get over what he said. The closer I get to Great Brak River, the sicker I feel.

It's teatime when I arrive. I dry my eyes and smooth down my hair, trying to force calm, but my stomach is twisted into a tight ball.

Doris greets me at the door with a gasp. "Happy birthday, Bella. If I'd known you were coming, I would've baked a cake. I can quickly go out and pick one up in George."

"No, thanks," I say, squeezing past her. "But it's very kind of you to offer. Where's Ryan?"

She frowns. "In the study. Is everything okay?"

I plaster a smile on my face. "Yes."

Steeling my spine, I walk down the corridor to the room in which I haven't set foot since my dad's death. I take a deep breath and open the door. The nostalgic familiarity throws me off balance.

Nothing changed. The smell of leather and wood polish still hangs in the air. The throw on the back of the sofa is folded in the same meticulous triangle. The only difference is that Ryan sits in the big swivel chair.

"Bella." My brother gets to his feet and rounds the desk, concern etched on his face. "What's wrong?"

Fishing the ring from the pocket of my sweater, I hold it on my palm. "Angelo paid me a visit."

Ryan blanches. He leans his backside on the desk and shoves his hands in his pockets, observing me in silence.

I wrap my fingers so tightly around the ring that the sharp edges of the diamond cut into my skin. "Did you hear what I said?"

Mom rushes into the room. Celeste follows short on her heels, carrying Brad on her hip. I drop my arm to my side. Brad's face lights up when he sees me. He gives a shy smile and sucks his thumb into his mouth.

The sight of my nephew in his Spiderman costume calms me. He's a timid kid. I don't want to scare him by losing my shit.

"Bella," Mom exclaims. "I thought you were having a party in Cape Town."

Sticking her head around the doorframe, Celeste calls for Doris. Brad finally gets over his shyness and extends his arms toward me.

"Hey, Brad." I take him from Celeste and kiss the top of his curly head, inhaling the scent of his baby shampoo. "How are you, buddy?" I tickle his tummy. "I missed you."

He giggles. I almost burst into tears when he wraps his chubby arms around my neck.

In a couple of weeks, he'll already be two years old. He's growing by leaps and bounds. It goes too fast. I hate missing out on his milestones.

Doris appears on the threshold, her features drawn. "You called for me?"

"Please take Brad upstairs to play," Celeste says, giving her a meaningful look.

"Come here, big man." Doris takes him from me. "How about we read a story?" She shoots me a worried glance from over her shoulder as she carries him from the room.

"What's going on?" Mom asks when they're gone.

Taking another calming breath, I face my brother. "That's what Ryan is going to tell me."

My brother studies me with a stony expression.

"What happened?" Celeste asks, closing the door.

"Angelo happened," I say, not looking away from Ryan. "I want to know how he got into my house." I add in a bitter tone, "Or shall I say his house?"

Ryan's stoic demeanor doesn't falter.

Mom sinks down on the nearest sofa. "Oh dear God."

"Why didn't I know that Angelo Russo was paying my bills?" I ask, praying that Angelo lied, that it was just another one of his mean tricks to torment me. A sick joke. "My food, my clothes? My studies?"

Ryan's jaw bunches.

"Tell me, Ryan." I ball my hands at my sides, the ring a painful reminder in my fist. "Tell me it's not true."

"It's true," Mom says, her shoulders slouching. For once, she doesn't adopt a proud or angry air. She looks defeated, and it scares me more than anything.

"You knew?" I ask with parted lips.

My mom looks away, refusing to meet my eyes.

I turn to Celeste, betrayal slicing through me. "Did you know too?"

She bites her lip.

"Shit." I utter a wry laugh. "It seems I'm the only ignorant fool in this room."

"It's not like that," Ryan says.

Anger surfaces again, mixing with the ache that constricts my chest. "Then explain it to me."

"Angelo Russo took over the business a long time ago," he says in a placating tone. "Right after he stole Dad's book."

The revelation hits me so hard I feel it like a physical blow. "What?" My voice is breathless. "What does that mean?"

"He didn't only demand shares," Ryan says. "He took everything."

I grip the chair back next to me for balance. "I–I don't understand."

"We've all just been earning an allowance from him since." Ryan continues with a neutral expression. "In my case, I'm nothing but an employee working for a salary."

My mouth is so dry I have to swallow before I can get another word out. "Why?"

"He's greedy." At last, emotion flickers across Ryan's face. "Why would he settle for shares if he could have everything?"

The sentiment is so rare for my brother that it takes me a moment to place it.

Hatred.

"The house…" I look around the room. "The house in Bloubergstrand?"

"No." Ryan crosses his arms. "Dad paid off the bonds. The investments and the houses were always intact." Ryan's smile is flat. "The rest is?—"

"Charity," Mom says, all but spitting the word out. She's staring at the cold fireplace, rocking herself on the edge of the sofa.

"This was happening from the day he stole that book?" I ask, dread filling my veins.

Ryan nods.

How terrible. How humiliating it must've been for Dad to live on Angelo's money. No, not Angelo's money. The money Angelo stole from my dad when he blackmailed him to sign over his business.

The thought makes me want to empty my stomach. "What about Dad's savings?"

Ryan straightens and walks to the wet bar. "Most of it was invested in long-term funds. The trust funds were structured to be untouchable in case of bankruptcy." He pours Dad's favorite brand of Scotch into tumblers. "We couldn't touch that money. It could only pay out in the event of his death."

"Our inheritance." My heart thuds between my ribs. The reality weighs down on me, making everything feel too heavy. "What about that money? Mine is tied up until I turn twenty-five, but you have access to yours."

Mom sniffs. "I used all the money your father left me to pay off our debts."

Ryan carries two glasses over and hands one to Mom and the other to Celeste. "The business he left me is nothing but a small satellite office in Cape Town. It's the only part Angelo didn't take. It hardly makes enough money to be worth the effort."

"Hold on." I'm still stuck on what Mom said. "Debts?" I sit down on the chair facing her. "I thought we didn't live on credit."

She waves a hand. "Credit cards, wedding expenses, the funeral… It all adds up quickly."

Meaning there's nothing left.

"Don't forget that woman and her daughter got most of the money," Mom adds through thin lips.

Laura and Daisy.

It's expensive to keep one family, especially with the material standards my parents upheld, but two cost double that much.

Ryan pours another glass and lifts it with a raise of his eyebrow in a silent question directed at me.

I shake my head. On second thought, I reach for the drink. When he places the tumbler in my hand, I swallow everything in one go. The alcohol heats my stomach, dispelling some of the ice in my veins.

My eyes water from the burn of the strong liquor. "Then he pays for everything?" I can't say his name out loud. Not now. Not after what I just learned.

Ryan's silence is his answer. He pours a few fingers of Scotch for himself and, following my example, downs it in one shot.

That's horrible. Angelo is paying not only my expenses but also my family's. He's paying for our food, our clothes, and every luxury we care to indulge in.

Why would he do that? Does he take perverse satisfaction from making us dependent on him? Because Mom is wrong. Angelo doesn't have a charitable bone in his body. He doesn't do anything without a reason, let alone out of the goodness of his heart. Wait. He doesn't have a heart.

Hurt and confused, I ask, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Dad never wanted to." Ryan shrugs. "You were so young at the time. He was trying to protect you."

To stop me from blaming myself more than I already was because I was the one who let Angelo into the house. Fresh guilt needles its way into my gut.

"Why?" I glance between Mom and Ryan. "Why would he pay our bills?"

Silence falls over the room.

I open my fist, showing them the big shiny diamond set in gold. "What is the meaning of this?"

Mom gasps.

"Why would he give me a ring if he hates us for what happened to his family? What the hell is going on?"

"You have to tell her, Ryan," Celeste says. "She has a right to know."

"Tell me what?"

More silence.

"Ryan?" Panic and helpless anger heat my voice. "Tell me what?"

Sighing, he scrubs a hand over his face and leaves his empty glass on the desk. "When Dad employed the Russo family, he made a deal. He promised to marry you to Angelo in exchange for their alliance and services."

The ground disappears underneath me.

"The Russos weren't only interested in the money he paid them." Ryan's expression is pained. "They wanted in on the business. Angelo would've received shares and a position in the company."

Slowly, the pieces click together. "That's why they came to my sixteenth birthday party."

Ryan continues, "The deal was discussed so long before then, Dad thought they'd forgotten about it."

"But they hadn't," I say, my voice sounding strange to my own ears.

"No," Ryan says with regret. "Dad denied making the deal. Things got heated. Santino and Angelo left your party angry."

I stare at Mom for confirmation. "That's why Dad didn't want me to have contact with him." I brace myself for uttering that name. "With Angelo."

"I didn't agree with not telling you," she says, pursing her lips in the way she does when she's trying not to cry. "Then you told me how guilty you felt, and I knew your father was right. Admitting the truth would've only made you feel worse. Your father believed it was better not to saddle you with the gritty details. I think he was worried you'd be disappointed in him if you knew what he'd done."

"Promising me to a Russo?" I ask on the verge of hysteria again.

Recollections of the times I caught my parents fighting flash through my mind. The memory of my sixteenth birthday party when my mom stormed out of the study with mascara running down her eyes comes back to taunt me. Mom was upset about something Dad had done. I still remember her words that drifted through the closed door.

I'm not going to say I told you so, but I did warn you not to do business with those people. You can't let this happen.

So much makes sense now, but the truth doesn't bring relief. It only brings more torment.

"Dad regretted it the moment it had been done," Ryan says. "He went along with the conditions because no one else could deliver the service the Russos could."

"The service? What service?" My lip curls around the accusation. "Killing people?"

Ryan winces. "Santino brought Angelo for the two of you to meet. The engagement was supposed to happen when you turned eighteen."

The world starts spinning around me. I put the empty glass on the side table and grip the armrests to steady myself. The ring drops from my hand and falls with a clink on the floor.

"When Dad denied the promise he'd made, Angelo came back and stole the book."

"To blackmail Dad into honoring his promise," I say as the insight hits me.

"Yes." Ryan regards me from under his lashes. "He didn't only take the shares Dad promised him. He took over control of the business, leaving us with no power and no money, making sure we couldn't start a war."

"Is that why Dad ordered someone to kill them?" I ask. "To get back his business?"

Mom inhales sharply.

"Angelo sent marriage instructions on the day of your eighteenth birthday." Ryan holds my gaze unfalteringly as he deals yet another blow. "His family was preparing a big wedding in Corsica for June. Dad wanted to stop it. He wanted to get them off our backs."

But everything went wrong.

Celeste walks to the back of my chair and puts a hand on my shoulder. "If it makes you feel better, I didn't know that he was paying for your house either. Ryan only told me recently."

I shake off her touch. It doesn't make me feel better. Nothing can. "The Russos wanted an arranged marriage for shares and money. They have all the money. They have the business. Why does he still want me to honor the deal?"

"I don't know," Ryan says. "I thought he gave up that goal when we agreed to stop the bloodshed between our families. The only reason I can think of is that the Edwards name is respected everywhere we do business. The Russo name not so much. It's not a good name."

My laugh is cold. "You don't say. Not that we deserve any of that respect. We're no better than the Russos. We just keep up the pretense."

"Don't say that," Mom exclaims. "Do not compare me with those savages."

"Come on, Mom." My smile is flat. "You know what Dad was involved in. None of us can claim to be ignorant about who we are any longer."

"Dad tried to spare you all from that part of his life." Ryan glances at Celeste. "So did I."

Another memory slips into my mind. I remember the day Angelo gave me the Ferrari for my eighteenth birthday. When Colin questioned the inappropriately expensive gift, Ryan silenced him. I had a feeling then that Ryan was hiding something.

My brother's strange behavior now makes sense. That's why he didn't make a scene. Angelo was already paying my way as far back as then. Farther still. My brother knew Angelo was planning on marrying me. That's why the gift didn't shock Ryan. Giving your future wife a Ferrari when you're a billionaire is hardly abnormal. That's why Ryan smoothed it over and deflected Colin's questions. He was keeping the truth from me while conspiring with Dad to stop the wedding from happening.

Yes, I kept a truth from him too, but damn it, the fact that I gave my v-card to Angelo didn't impact Ryan's life. The fact that Angelo supports me financially, me and my family, definitely impacts me.

"You should've told me." I jump to my feet. "You had no right to hide this."

Celeste puts a hand on my arm. "Bella, sweetie, I'm the first one to agree. Ryan was just trying to protect you."

"Don't make excuses for him." I pull away, escaping the comfort she offers. I'm too angry to accept their support or apologies. Too devastated.

"Bella, please." Mom stands, extending her palms. "We tried our best for this not to happen. You know how much your father loved you. He would've done anything to keep you from this fate."

"Including murder," I say, placing a hand on my brow as I pace to the sliding doors.

Fuck.

"Yes." Mom's tone turns hard. "Including murder. He did what he thought was best. We all want what's best for you."

I spin around to face her. "What are you saying?"

"We're not going to let Angelo win. Let him cut off our allowance. Let him remove Ryan as CEO of the South African branch and take away everything your father built his entire life. We'll find a way to survive. Ryan can work elsewhere. I can get a job."

I stare at her as horrible facts sink in. "Ryan won't find another job that pays that well, not with the current unemployment rate. And what would you do? You said yourself, that ship has sailed. What about Celeste and Brad and their future? Not to mention that Ryan will go to jail for murder if the truth comes out."

"Angelo Russo won't dare to tell the truth," Ryan says. "He's guilty too, remember?"

How can I forget? That image is burned into my brain. The nightmares still haunt my sleep.

"What are you suggesting?" I ask. "That I go on the run?"

"We stand up to him." Ryan straightens. "We say no. I'd rather be dirt fucking poor than deliver you to that monster."

I consider that, what it will be like for all of us to start from scratch, to have nothing and work our way up. I don't care about the comfort or the money. If I can't find a permanent job, I can always do small jobs to pay the bills. I don't need much.

But what about Brad and Celeste? Celeste doesn't earn a salary. A child costs money. There are things to consider, things like medical care and an education. Mom will have to lower her standards and give up her status. We'd have to let Doris go. Poor Doris. Will she find another live-in job in George? At least she has unemployment insurance. Mom will have to sell the big houses and buy a smaller place, maybe an apartment near Mattie and Jared. Thank goodness Jared isn't involved in the business, or he'd be relying on Angelo for a salary too.

Mattie and I will have a bit of money when the investment funds we inherited pay out. I can always use that cash to buy a studio apartment. If Ryan can't find another job, I can put that money at his disposal. Or we can rent a modest house in a middle class suburb, and I can board with them again until we're all on our feet. That way, we can still afford to keep Doris on.

Right now, a modest house in a middle class suburb sounds amazing. Like a dream.

"It's doable, Bella," Ryan says. "We'll survive."

Mom scoffs. "At least then that devil won't have a sword to hold over our heads any longer." She comes closer and pulls me into one of her rare hugs. "We talked about it a lot after you ended up in hospital. We all thought this way was the only solution if the push came to shove."

I chew my lip. "Including Mattie?"

My mom holds me at arm's length. "Mattie agrees."

"What about the shame?" I ask. "Your wealthy friends are going to look down on you. They won't invite you to their parties if you're not adding value to their guest list."

Mom lets me go. "I'll make new friends."

"I appreciate that you're all willing to make such huge sacrifices," I say. "Let me think about it, okay?"

Ryan gives me a dark look. "When will Angelo be back?"

My throat constricts. "Tomorrow."

"Then we know what to do." He kisses the top of Celeste's head. "You women stay here. Tomorrow at first light, I'll go to Cape Town to talk to Angelo."

"Do you think he'll just accept it?" Celeste asks in a small voice.

Ryan rubs her arm. "We won't give him a choice. What's he going to do? Dad is dead. If he decides to leak the truth about the bribes, we'll just have to keep our heads high."

"You're an accomplice in the bribes," I point out.

"It's my word against his. I can always claim I didn't know what Dad was doing. There's no evidence proving that I was involved."

I search my brother's face. "It will be a hell of a scandal."

"We already dealt with the scandal of Dad's affair and his so-called suicide." Ryan chuckles. "What's another one?"

"That's very brave of you," I say.

"I was willing to swallow my pride and not disillusion you about where the money came from as long as he didn't bother you again." Ryan frowns. "When Celeste and I moved back here, he rented the villa with a very clear instruction that he wanted you to live there. I had no idea he'd come back with a fucking ring."

My gaze shifts to the diamond that sparkles insistently on the rug, its light refusing to be extinguished, no matter how sinister the reasons that bling is meant for. It's at least four or five carats, worth a small fortune. I'll have to return it to the villa and leave it there for Angelo to find.

Bending to pick up the ring, I say, "It's not your fault. You couldn't know."

"Ryan is right," Mom says. "You better stay the night, Bella. It's too late to drive back."

She doesn't say it's probably safer for me here, but that's what we're all thinking.

I nod, trying to gather myself as I walk through the door. "Excuse me. I need some air."

None of this would've happened if Dad had honored his promise. But Dad never had any intention of keeping that promise. Of that, I'm sure. It's ironic that there was a time I would've gladly put Angelo's ring on my finger. I did, didn't I? I wore his signet ring with pride before I knew what he'd done. All that is in the past now, and things will never be the same.

Escaping outside, I take in the familiar view of the sea. Even this favorite sight has been tainted. A single, careless, forbidden moment spoiled everything.

The breeze has picked up. Grabbing a throw from the sofa on the veranda, I wrap it around my shoulders and climb down the dune.

Despite the memories, the deserted beach provides a measure of peace. I sit down at the edge of the water and dig my toes into the sand. I try to think, to come to a decision, but Ryan is right. There's only one thing I can do, and it scares me. It terrifies me, because I know what Angelo is capable of.

The only thought that soothes me is knowing he doesn't need me for anything other than my so-called good name. There are hundreds of women with good family names in the world. He can easily find someone else to make a good match. It doesn't have to be me.

A shadow falls over me.

Alarmed, I jerk.

"Hey," Colin says. "It's only me."

"Shit." I place a hand over my heart. "You scared me."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to." He sits down next to me. "I went for a jog and saw you coming down here from the top of the road." Studying me closely, he adds, "I thought you were having a girls' night in Cape Town."

I blow out a shaky sigh. "There isn't a party."

He frowns. "Why?"

Shifting sideways, I face him. "Angelo proposed."

"What?" His expression turns thunderous. "He came to see you again? That son of a bitch. Where is he now?"

"I don't know. He left after telling me I had until tomorrow."

"For what?"

"To prepare myself." I shrug. "To get used to the idea."

"I never wanted to kill someone with my bare hands, but I swear?—"

"Please, no more talk of killing. I've had enough of that."

"Bella." He grips my chin. "I know you've never been completely honest with me. I know there's plenty you're not telling me."

Pulling free, I look away. "There's plenty I didn't know myself."

He's quiet for a moment. After a beat, he says, "Marry me. Tomorrow."

I look back at him quickly. "What?"

"Marry me," he says again. "Tomorrow morning. There'll be nothing he can do about it when he comes back for you."

Staring at him with disbelief, I scoot back. "It's not like that between us."

The muscles in his temples bunch. "We care about each other. We're best friends. We understand each other. I know you better than you know yourself. I already told you, in my opinion, that's the best foundation for a marriage."

"We were talking about a relationship, not marriage, and we were no more than teenagers."

"My age never prevented me from knowing what's right for me. I'm a practical man. You know that. We'll work together. I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't sure."

"Oh, Colin." I bite my lip. "You don't know half of it. If you did, you wouldn't make such an offer."

"Then tell me." He catches my ankles and pulls me closer. "Tell me everything, and don't leave a damn thing out. Go on. I dare you."

"Even if I could tell you, I wouldn't. You'll run for the hills."

"I'm not scared off that easily," he says with a crooked smile. "Try me."

"You'll never look at me the same again."

"Tell me," he says, squeezing my ankles. "If I'm still here when you're done, you'll marry me." He makes a funny face. "Won't that make all your problems go away?"

I can't help but laugh. "You're impossible."

His expression turns serious. "I'm listening."

For a moment, I wonder how it will be to be his wife. We have a good, solid friendship and mutual interests. There may not be sparks, but I love him in a different way. We can be good together. I can be a decent wife to him, making up for the shortcoming of passion in other ways.

We share the same values. Our families are friends. Whether his family will still be friends with us if they know the truth is to be seen. I doubt that. But Colin is different. He's never been judgmental. For a fleeting moment, I catch a glimpse of a safe, tranquil life with him, a life in which there's no crime or fear. No bad history.

The idea of that life is so appealing that I tell him. I tell him everything, starting from the beginning when my dad made the deal and ending with the ring I still carry in my pocket. I don't leave any sordid detail out.

He doesn't interrupt me once. He listens intently until I've finished. When I finally fall quiet, I hold my breath, expecting his scorn or his disgust, but Colin being Colin, he simply wraps his arms around me and hugs me.

The relief is so overwhelming that I burst into tears. It's not just the weight that lifts off my shoulders. It's that after everything I told him, he doesn't hate me.

"How can you still like me?" I ask through my tears.

He rubs circles over my back. "Oh, Bella. How can I not?"

Pulling back, I wipe a hand over my face. "I didn't want to put you in a difficult situation."

"Hey." He brushes a hand over my hair. "Your secrets are mine, remember?"

I smile at the reminder of the pact we made as kids.

"Tomorrow," he says, his gaze earnest as he catches mine. "We should get married in Cape Town. It'll be easier to organize there. We won't be able to find a marriage official last-minute here, and the minister won't do it on such short notice. He'll insist that we attend those compulsory marital sessions first."

"I don't want you to marry me just to save me."

He smiles. "I've always been saving you, haven't I?" When I frown, he takes my hand. "Look, I know you don't love me with sparks and fireworks and all that jazz. That's not what I want. My job is going to be hectic. Someone like you will get that. You won't expect me to be home for dinner at six every night. I want someone who'll give me the freedom to be me, and I'll give you the space you need to grow. We can just take it day by day. We'll figure it out."

"What about your family?"

"They'll be ecstatic." He stands, pulling me with him. "They don't have to know the details. We'll just say we decided to get married on the spur of the moment."

I better go home and tell everyone the news. Ryan won't have to drive to Cape Town after all. "I don't deserve you, Colin."

He wraps an arm around my shoulders. "You deserve happiness, Bella." Leading me toward the path, he says, "Come. We have a lot to do."