Blackmailed by the Italian Billionaire(20)

So far, nothing. No Luc. No blackmail. No nothing.

Maybe he’d forgotten all about her, but instinct told her she wouldn’t be that lucky. Then during supper, it had occurred to her that maybe Sally might know something about him, something that might help her work out what he really wanted. “My mother never mentioned him? It would have had to do with my father.”

Sally’s face took on that closed expression she always adopted when Lia’s father was mentioned. “You know your mother never spoke to me about him. She knew I wouldn’t listen.”

“But you’ve been with us forever, Sally, you must know something.”

Sally had worked for them since Lia was a baby, and had moved in five years ago after her husband’s death. Now she stayed with them by choice, and was part of the family rather than an employee.

“I know your mother was better off without him. I was glad when he went, but she would never listen to me.” Sally sighed. “I know you think you need to find him. Make him pay back the money from the house. But what makes you think he’ll go along with that plan even if you do find him? He may just laugh in your face. Forget him, Lia.”

“I’m going to. Pete’s offered to buy the piece of land that runs next to his. It will solve our problems, at least for the moment.”

“That’s great. So if you don’t need to find your father, why the questions about this Luc Severino?”



Lia pursed her lips and did her best to look innocent. “No reason. I heard the name, that’s all.”

After Luc had gone, she’d thought long and hard. He was using the threat of those pictures to blackmail her. But into doing what? What did he really want?

With the threat of losing her home gone, she wanted to forget all about her father; instead, Luc was forcing her to continue the search. And she hated to be forced.

If he did turn up, she was going to appeal to his better nature, tell him that she didn’t want to find her father anymore. And Luc would go away, and she need never see him again or think of him again.

Yeah, right. She snorted. Just how likely was that to happen? Not a night had gone by that he hadn’t come to her in her sleep, and that was what was bothering her the most—she hated him for what he was doing, but part of her couldn’t forget how he had made her feel.

Outside, the dog started barking. Mike poked his head around the door. “Lia, there’s a man here to see you.”

Lia’s hand tightened around her mug of coffee; her heart sank. “There is?”

“Yeah, and he’s got the coolest car.” Mike didn’t wait for an answer, just disappeared again.

“Shit,” Lia muttered.

“Lia!”

“Sorry—horse manure.”

Sally smiled. “You want me to go?”

For a second, Lia was tempted. Maybe she could hide under the bed or something. Then she shook her head. “No, I think this one’s for me.”



Luc’s black car was parked in the front driveway with Luc crouched down beside it, talking to Mike. She hesitated. Luc’s face was softer this time, and as she watched, he reached out and ruffled Mike’s hair, then picked him up and swung him into the driver’s seat of the car.

She opened her mouth to complain, then closed it again—this was the first time she had seen Mike animated in so long, and she wasn’t going to jump in and spoil that because she had issues with Luc. Luc was being genuinely nice—maybe he did have a better nature after all.

“It’s a Ferrari, Lia,” her brother said, his tone filled with awe.

“Is it?”

“Yes, and Luc said he’ll take me for a drive.”

“Oh he did, did he?”

“Yes,” Luc said. “I have a little brother who gets a kick out of cars too. But not tonight, kid. Tonight you get to sit there and not touch anything while I talk to your sister.”

Five minutes later, Lia scowled. So much for appealing to his better nature! It should have been obvious from their previous meeting that he didn’t have one.

Luc stood, hands thrust into the pockets of his black trousers, his cold green eyes narrowed on her.

“I’m not coming,” Lia repeated. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“We had a deal, cara.” He was silent for a moment, his eyes running over her, and she shifted from foot to foot under his intense gaze. “You are obviously your father’s daughter,” he said. “Treacherous. You probably can’t help yourself.”



A wave of indignation washed over her at his words. She wasn’t the one using blackmail. And calling her her father’s daughter? That was a low blow, and one that hit home, mainly because it had always been a worry to her over the years. After all, she certainly hadn’t gotten her character from her mother—but there was also another puzzling aspect to this conversation. “I thought you were his friend.”