She pulled out one outfit from the bag. It was a bottle-green off-shoulder silk gown. It was beautiful beyond any dress she had ever owned. She inspected the other bags, all with dresses that were more exquisite than the last. In the boxes were shoes. And even lingerie. Her cheeks heated.
On the coffee table she spotted several more boxes, but they were smaller and were of a deep red color. She sat on the couch, an inexplicable sense of foreboding crawling up her spine. She lifted the lid on one.
And gaped.
In the first box lay a set of earrings and necklace studded with hundreds of diamonds. Interspersed with them were blue colored stones. Were they sapphires, she thought, reeling with shock, afraid of even touching them. She shut the lid and opened the next box. It contained a brooch in the shape of a shoe, the kind worn by wealthy ladies in 18th century Europe. The tip had an inlay of minute, multicolored stones arranged to look like a flower. The sides of the heel were also studded. The craftsmanship was astounding. The last box contained a bracelet, again linked by hundreds of diamonds with a single ruby at its clasp.
A note was propped beside the boxes. She picked it up with an unsteady hand.
You are to stay away from The Medeia until Markos Konstantinos has left Seirenada. A transfer has been made for you to a private villa where you can stay until your flight leaves. Your belongings will be forwarded there. You can inform Antonia once you are ready to leave the yacht.
I told you I would give you diamonds. I keep my promises, strega.
It’s a pity you couldn’t keep yours.
With trembling fingers, Sabrina opened the piece of paper that accompanied the note. It was a photocopy of the letter she had sent Markos.
Mr. Konstantinos,
I would like to talk to you about a personal matter. You will never hear from me again if it’s your wish, but please hear me out first so you can decide.
I will be leaving the day after the royal wedding. Perhaps we could meet at a venue of your choice.
I am staying at The Medeia.
Sabrina closed her eyes. At dinner when Luca had asked her if she wanted to stay in the yacht instead of the wedding, he had known. While they had been having sex last night, he knew she had gone back on her word. She sat on the edge of the bed, remorse filling her. He had been testing her. Waiting for her to come clean.
She’d let him believe that she was nothing but a shallow, grasping woman eager to score a royal invite. If that had been her only sin, Sabrina wouldn’t feel so racked with guilt. He’d left thinking that her desire for him was driven by other motives. Sabrina knew were it any other man, she would never have contemplated engaging in a hook-up in exchange for a date to the royal wedding. But she had used Luca, rationalizing her attraction as her means to an end. At least Luca had been honest from the start. He wanted her for a fling. Period.
Why had she continued with this deception? Her previous email to Markos Konstantinos, more explicit with the reason she was seeking him out, had remain unanswered. Why was she forcing herself on someone who didn’t want to have anything to do with her when she could be with someone who did?
She had been blinded by her need for validation, her hope to belong, and so she had sabotaged her short-lived holiday romance with Luca by going back on her word.
If he had become his father, then I’ve become my mother.
She took a shower, moving mechanically. She welcomed the various aches in her body, every single one of them proof that he had wanted her. She was loath to remove his scent from her skin, not knowing when she’d ever see him again. But she had to. Before she left the principality.
His rejection was a risk she was willing to take. It would cut her, but she was not a little girl anymore, making do with crumbs of affection from her mother’s obligatory visits. Visits her grandmother insisted upon. She had overheard her taking her mother to task for failing to show up every so often.
This time Sabrina would take matters in her own hands. Take a chance. If he didn’t want her anymore, she’d live with it. But she couldn’t live with the knowledge that she hadn’t tried, hadn’t risked anything because of her fears.
But first she would have to figure out where to go to regroup. And text Chase that she would indeed be staying a bit longer on the island.
Her stomach rumbled as she tried to find her way to the galley. No sense leaving on an empty belly when it might take her some time to find a place with a vacancy.
Chef Luigi, at least it was who Sabrina thought the heavy-set man was, was visibly startled to see her in the galley, but he quickly recovered his composure and greeted her with reserve.
“Buon giorno,” she said with a smile. “It was a lovely dinner last night. You’ve made me a fan of osso buco. Grazie.”