Chapter 15

15

Olivia

I made a mistake. He looked at me with so much emotion, so much everything in his eyes. He looked at me like I was his, and I told him the one thing I knew would make him hate me. It was the only way to get him to leave, to make him believe that I had feelings for someone else. How's that even possible, when all I can do is think of him? I was so sure he wouldn't believe me, but I must be a better actor than I thought. I met his gaze and I lied. Clearly, all those acting lessons paid off; he believed me. I looked into his eyes, and I lied convincingly enough for him to walk out of here hating me.

I lied to him and broke my heart—I mean, his heart, and now he hates me. That's the result I wanted, right? I close my eyes, and my head spins. The adrenaline recedes, leaving me shaking. A shiver grips me. I'll never be warm again . Not after what I did to him.

A doctor walks into the room, "Ms. Johansen, you're awake. Do you mind if I examine you?"

I nod my assent.

He approaches me, takes my pulse, then begins to examine me.

"How soon can I leave?"

He continues to listen to my heart with his stethoscope, then checks my eyes and proceeds to ask me a few more questions.

"Doctor, you didn't answer. How soon can I leave?"

He finally straightens. "Your vitals are looking good. I'd like to keep you for another night for observation."

"I'd like to leave right away," I choke out.

"Out of the question. We need to make sure there are no other complications from the wound. There shouldn't be, but it's a precaution."

"Tomorrow. I need to be out of here by tomorrow. I cannot stay another day."

"Eager to join your fiancé?" He smiles kindly.

"Who?"

"Your fiancé, Mr. Sovrano. He stayed with you throughout the night, refused to leave."

"He's gone now. I asked him to leave."

"Ah." He scans my features. "Everything okay?"

I nod. No, I've made the biggest mistake of my life.

I'd never be able to live with myself if I married a Mafia guy. Besides, Massimo has too powerful a personality. Too mesmerizing. If I were with him, I'd lose myself; I'd forget myself and the goals I set for myself. The promises I made to myself when I left home, and which I've fought so hard to fulfill. I can't give up on it. Not now. I owe it to myself to stay on track. To get back to pursuing my dream of becoming an actress. I'm going to get the kinds of roles I deserve, the kind I spent my life working toward. I couldn't give it all up for a man... Could I? Tears prick the backs of my eyes. I sniff, then close my eyelids so they don't spill.

"There, there." He pats my hand. "It's normal to feel woozy after what you've been through. If all goes well, we can discharge you tomorrow. Of course, you'll still need to take antibiotics to keep infection at bay, and make sure you take care of your dressings?—"

"A phone. Can you get me a phone, please?"

"Of course. All of your belongings, including your phone, were delivered by Mr. Sovrano. We'll get everything to you."

The doctor turns to leave, and I stare out the window. He made sure I had everything I needed before he left. And I broke his heart. I didn't have a choice. It's the right thing to do. It is.

One of the nurses returns with my phone and my handbag, which I left in the dressing room in the theater. I probably won't know how bad the scar is until the bandage comes off. Meanwhile, I need to get out of here before Jeanne or Penny decides to visit. There's only one person who can help me.

I pick up my phone and dial Declan's number.

"You sure you're okay?" Karina helps me into the back of the SUV, then straightens.

"You sure you're okay helping me?" I retort.

She laughs. "What do you think, honey?" She addresses her words to the man behind the wheel of the SUV. "Are we okay coming to the rescue of Declan's friend?"

The man, who's wearing a suit that's been hand-tailored for him, meets her gaze in the rearview mirror and smiles. "We seem to be making it a habit. Good thing I had my jet on-hand."

"Umm, what do you mean ‘making it a habit'? Has Declan asked you to help another of his friends before?"

"Not Declan." She shuts my door, then walks around to slide into the passenger seat upfront before she turns to face me. "But we got a similar SOS call to help out your friend Jeanne and her now-husband Luca when they were running from their kidnapper."

"You're the one who helped them?" I wriggle around, trying to make myself more comfortable. "I wondered how they managed to get back to Palermo in time for the rehearsal."

"My husband—" she places her hand on the man's sleeve "—loaned them his jet so they could fly to Palermo and make it in time for the rehearsal."

"And that's how you got here so fast? You used the jet?" I ask.

"What's the use of having your own plane if you can't use it when a friend needs help?" The man turns to me, a twinkle in his eyes. "I'm Arpad Beauchamp, by the way."

"You're Declan's brother." The family resemblance is unmistakable. Same broad shoulders, high cheekbones, that look of being trouble in their eyes.

"Indeed." He tilts his head. "And you are a friend of his from LA?"

"Indeed." I smile back.

He laughs. "Any friend of Declan's is a friend of ours. Thanks to you, I finally heard from him. He's been so busy, now that his movie is a big hit, it's been months since I last spoke to him."

"It's good to meet you?—"

"Olivia Johansen." I shake his hand. "Thank you for helping me out."

"Couldn't refuse the chance of getting out of my office. Besides, this way, Karina and I get to visit Sicily. We've always wanted to come, haven't we?"

"We'd hoped to visit after we got married, but things have been so hectic of late." Karina leans over and plants a kiss on his cheek. He pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, and a heated look passes between them. Gosh, why do I get the feeling that I'm intruding? Clearly, they're in love and care for each other.

She leans back in her seat and Arpad guides the vehicle forward. After I'd called Declan and explained the situation to him, he'd told me to sit tight and that he'd reach out to me in a few hours.

"So, you live in London?" I ask the couple.

"I used to live in LA, where I still run my own security agency. But after we married, I moved to join my husband. Now we split time between both cities."

"And what do you do, Olivia?" Arpad asks.

"I'm a dancer, and the lead actor in—" I stop. "A dancer," I say firmly.

I'm not a lead actor anymore. I'm not going to be well enough to reprise my role in the musical anytime soon, and even if I were, would they accept me with a scar on my face? While I won't know how it's going to look until the bandages come off, fact is, I did hurt myself. Chances are, my face isn't going to look as flawless as it used to be. And I don't know what the hell that means for my career. I need a place to lie low and think through my options.

I'd have loved to leave Palermo, but the doctor discharged me on the condition that I check in with him over the next few weeks, until he's satisfied I'm healing properly. He knows my case, so it didn't make sense to return to London and start from scratch. Instead, I decided to find a place here and lie low. I can't go home to Penny, where she or Jeanne would easily find me. They're not going to forgive me for giving them the slip, but right now, I don't want to meet them or anyone I know and try to explain myself. How can I explain myself when I don't even understand? I just need space.

We drive in silence, for which I'm grateful. We head toward the outskirts of the city, more inland, away from the coast. After nearly an hour of driving, Arpad turns onto a narrow road that's bordered with trees on both sides. They meet in a canopy over the top, so sunlight dapples the windshield. We turn another corner and pull into the driveway of a two-story building. With whitewashed walls and a wraparound porch, as well as the flowers that grow in profusion in the garden and span both sides of the driveway, it's gorgeous. Arpad brings the car to a stop. Karina gets out and opens my door. I slide out, and she hooks her arm with mine. "Come on, I'll show you around."