Lap of Luxury (Love Don't Cost a Thing)

I remember her pale face that day, exhaustion ringing her eyes, jewels glistening among her black hair.

“The wedding was planned for her sixteenth birthday, but she never made it.”

Maybe Navarro was right, and Bethany is a little like Nataša. Another dark-haired beauty should wear them. Another proud Ravnikar decked out in jewels on her wedding day.

“She was going to marry Georgios at sixteen? But what happened to her?”

“Lucan Navarro happened to her. My father happened to her.” The old rage fills me at the thought of those gristly old bastards and the misery they sowed. Now I have to count my own brother among those who have betrayed what’s left of our family. “Father waited till their engagement was announced and then publicly disinherited her, just to see what Navarro would do. He thought it was funny.”

“And what did Navarro do?”

“He made Georgios break it off, because no son of his was marrying a pauper. Georgios did as he was told, the weak bastard. She was too young and bewildered to cope with the humiliation. She threw herself from the cliffs near our country house.”

Bethany inhales sharply.

“We found out Nataša was pregnant from the coroner. Georgios claims he didn’t know,” I say bitterly. “That’s what gave me the Beachy Head idea. Georgios killed himself the same way, because he was eaten up with guilt.”

“Damir, I’m so sorry. Maybe…” Bethany says hesitantly. “Maybe Georgios didn’t know?”

“Would that make any of this better?”

She presses her lips together. “No. No, it wouldn’t.”

I roll onto my side and regard her. “I shall adorn you with those jewels as Navarro’s blood pools at our feet. Do you like the sound of that, my princesa?”

“I want…” Bethany lies back and looks up at the ceiling. Then she mutters, almost too quietly for me to catch. “I shouldn’t want the things that I want.”

I grin in the darkness, and pull her sweet, supple body close to mine. Soon, I’ll have everything I want. The jewels. Revenge. And Bethany. All mine, with nothing to distract me from all the things I’m going to do to my lovely little pet.

Chapter Nineteen

Bethany

The sun is shining, the water is foaming behind the yacht, the drinks are cold and fizzy with gently clinking ice cubes. It’s paradise on earth onboard, and yet I’m a nervous wreck. Between worrying about Mikhail and Ciara and the rapidly blackening state of my soul, I can barely think.

And Damir? Currently he’s taking apart and cleaning two revolvers and bantering cheerfully with his men like they’re a bunch of Tarantino gangsters. He’s having the time of his life.

I suppose this makes me a gangster’s moll. I wonder what my parents would think if they could see me now. They’re no more than two blank faces in my mind, and though it makes no sense I’ve often found myself obsessing over what they might think of this decision I’ve made, or the path I’ve gone down. I take a long sip of my mineral water. Doubtlessly they’d be disappointed in whatever of my choices brought me here.

But what does it matter what they wanted or who they are? They dumped me. They can go to hell.

I push my sunglasses up my nose and turn a page of my glossy magazine. My nails are painted scarlet and I’m developing quite the summer tan, lying about on this sunbed every day by the pool. While Damir and his men make plans, I have everything I’ve ever wanted and the promise of more. Beautiful jewels are to be poured into my lap by a man who fulfills my every desire.

Eventually Damir will call on me to play my part in his little revenge fantasy, and I’ll…what? Will I be the one to lure Navarro or Mikhail and Ciara to their deaths? I put down my cold drink, feeling sickened. I think of all those final girls who survived until the end. They didn’t sit on their behinds in five hundred pound bikinis while the bad guy planned more murders.

I flip another page of my magazine angrily. There’s nothing I can do about that right now. I’m never given the chance to escape. Damir keeps me on a tight leash at all times.

At sunset, I wrap a lace kimono over my swimsuit and pad toward the bedroom for a shower. A hand wraps around my wrist and pulls me into an alcove. I expect it’s Damir about to steal a kiss and sink his teeth into my lower lip, but it’s not Damir.

It’s Boris.

His eyes bore into mine with intensity. “You think that everyone has forsaken you, don’t you?”

He’s been acting funny the last few days. I’ve caught him scowling at Damir when Damir isn’t looking, and he’s been particularly attentive to me, asking if there’s anything I need from shore and if I’m all right. He says that with heavy significance. Is Damir hurting me? Is Damir forcing me? Am I all right? And the answers to those three questions are yes but I like it, no, and I have no goddamn idea.

“There is no one to forsake me.”

He casts a furtive look around us, but we’re hidden from view. “But you want your freedom?”