But it was too late. She recognised the taunting, reedy voice at the end of the line. It was a voice she’d been dreading hearing again since her return from Point Noire.
‘I can play along if you prefer, Anna. Hell, I’ll even call you by your new name, Brianna Moneypenny. But we both know to me you’ll always be Anna, don’t we?’ mocked Greg Landers.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘WHAT DO YOU want, Greg?’ Brianna snapped into her mobile phone as she threw her bag on the tiny sofa in her small living room.
‘What? No hello, no pleasantries? Never mind. I’m glad you were sensible enough to return my call. Although, I don’t get why you didn’t want to speak to me at your office. I made sure Pantelides wasn’t there before I called.’
Shock made her grip the edge of the seat. ‘You’re having him watched?’
‘No, I’m having you watched. You’re the one I’m interested in.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes. For now, at least. Tell me, why the name change?’
Bitterness rose in a sweltering tide, bringing a sickening haze that made the furnishings of her small flat blur. ‘Why the hell do you think? You destroyed my life, Greg. After you lied and swore under oath in court that I embezzled funds from your company, when we both know that it was you who set up that Cayman Islands account in my name. Do you think after what you put me through anyone would’ve hired me once they knew I’d been to prison for embezzlement?’
‘Tsk-tsk, let’s not blow things out of proportion, shall we? You served well under half of the four-year prison term. If it’s any consolation, I only expected you to get a slap on the wrist.’
‘It’s not a consolation!’
‘Besides,’ he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted, ‘I hear those prisons are just a step down from glorified holiday camps.’
The scar on her hip—the result of a shiv, courtesy of an inmate whose attention she wouldn’t return—burned at the careless dismissal of what had been a horrific period of her life. ‘It’s a shame you decided not to try it out for yourself, then, instead of turning coward and letting someone else take the blame for your greed. Now, are you going to tell me what this call is about or shall I hang up?’
‘Hang up and I’ll make sure your salacious past is the first thing Pantelides reads about when he steps into that ivory tower of his tomorrow morning.’
Brianna’s hand tightened around the phone at the ruthless tone. ‘How did you find me, anyway?’ Not that it mattered now. But she’d used every last penny to erase her past, to make sure every trace of Anna Simpson was wiped clean as soon as she’d attained her freedom.
‘I didn’t. You found me, through the wonderful medium of TV. Imagine my surprise when I tuned in, like every environmentally conscious individual out there who’s horrified about the Pantelides oil spillage, to find you right behind the main man himself. It took me a few minutes to recognise you, though. I much prefer you blonde to the brunette you used to be. Which is the real thing?’
‘I fail to see...’ She stopped because the Greg she’d known, the man she’d once foolishly thought herself in love with, hadn’t changed. He believed himself a witty and clever conversationalist and was never one to get to the point until he was ready. It was one of the things—many things, she realised now—that had irritated her about him. ‘Blonde is my natural colour.’