The Legend of de Marco

He handed some newspapers to Rocco and said, in a serious voice, ‘There’s a picture of you and Gracie in the tabloids.’

Rocco came in behind Gracie and opened out the next day’s paper. She crept closer, forgetting her ire for a moment at the sight of a huge picture of her and Rocco at the party in New York and a caption underneath: ‘Who is de Marco’s latest flame-haired mistress?’

Gracie felt sick. Rocco closed the paper after a long moment and said, ‘Now we’ll see how protective your brother really is.’

Gracie looked at him stupidly, trying to figure out what he meant, and then it hit her. Her mouth opened. She was aware of pain, even more pain, lancing her insides. ‘You …’ she framed shakily, ‘you accused me of seducing you, but you set the whole thing up … taking me away with you so that my brother might see pictures of us and come out of hiding.’

Rocco’s face was unreadable. His mouth thinned. ‘It’ll be interesting to see if your bond is as strong as you say it is.’

Gracie looked up at Rocco and couldn’t see an inkling of the man she’d thought she was falling for. He’d never looked so cold and ruthless. ‘You’re a bastard.’

He smiled then, and it was cruel. ‘You’re absolutely right. I am.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ROCCO watched as Gracie finally turned around and walked away jerkily. He heard her door close and the lock turn. He cursed and threw the paper down, and went straight to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a whisky. His hands were shaking. He’d had a red mist over his vision all day, ever since his PA had handed him the printout of the e-mail when he’d been leaving his office to go and pick Gracie up.

He’d almost ignored it, thinking it was something irrelevant, but had then read it. At first he’d seen only the surface message. It had looked innocuous enough. But then, as he’d re-read it, he’d seen more and more—until by the time he’d got back to the apartment, where Gracie had been waiting so patiently, the words of the e-mail had become a gnarled black symbol of his humiliation at her hands the previous night. Lead had surrounded his heart.

All he’d been able to think about was how excruciatingly exposed he felt. How stupid he’d been to trust her so blindly, convincing himself all along that she was innocent. When he’d thought of the burgeoning sense of peace that had settled over him after his exhaustive swim, and how in the cold light of that morning he hadn’t regretted baring his soul to her, he’d wanted to punch something.

All that time she’d been trying to contact her brother because she believed she had Rocco right in the palm

of her hand. Rational thought had fled. There was no room for it in the state of paranoia that Rocco had been plunged into.

He’d said things to her that had made her pale and look sick and he’d felt nothing but numb. Even when she’d visibly retreated to somewhere he couldn’t reach and kept him at that icy distance he’d welcomed it. It was only when he’d spotted her wistful look towards freedom outside his building just now that something had pierced his fierce control. It had been a primal reflex not to let her go. To keep her by his side at all costs.

And now Rocco had to face the fact that he’d reacted from a place of deep, deep pain. A pain that could only be afflicting him because an equally deep emotion was involved. And he also had to face the fact that either every one of his cynical beliefs would be proved right, or he’d just made the most spectacular mistake of his life.

The following afternoon Rocco was pacing in his office by the window. Work was far from his mind. Gracie hadn’t emerged from her room, and she hadn’t answered when he’d knocked on her door. Only her hoarse, ‘Go away!’ had stopped him from breaking the door down. He’d just now rung up to Mrs Jones, who’d told him worriedly that she was still in her room.

He felt a curious prickling sensation on his neck and turned around to see a familiar figure walking towards his office. His heart sank like a stone. His employees had stopped to look too, because they knew what this meant. Rocco knew it meant something more, though—something infinitely more important than a million euros. His heart spasmed in his chest. As he watched Steven Murray walk into his office with a furious look on his face he knew it meant that he’d made the biggest mistake of his life.

The only thing that roused Gracie from her catatonic state was a familiar voice. She was dimly aware that it was evening outside. She heard it again.

‘Gracie, come on. Open the door. It’s me.’

She sat up. It couldn’t be. She had to be dreaming. Feeling as if it really might be a dream, she finally moved her legs and got up and went to the door. She opened it, and saw her brother standing on the other side.

For a long moment she just looked at him stupidly, not believing her eyes, and then the emotion she’d been denying herself erupted into noisy sobs and she threw herself into his skinny arms. He grabbed her tight and stroked her back and shushed her.

Without knowing how they’d got there, Gracie found herself sitting on a couch, with Steven pushing a glass with amber liquid in it into her hand.

She sucked in a shuddery breath, her face and eyes felt swollen. ‘I don’t drink.’

Her brother insisted. ‘You do now—go on; you need it.’

Gracie took a sip and grimaced when her insides seemed to burst into flame. She coughed a little. As the drink brought her back to life and she registered that it was really her brother sitting in front of her panic gripped her. She grabbed his hand. ‘Wait. You can’t be here—Rocco is just downstairs. If he finds you—’

She stopped talking when she felt her skin tingle and saw Steven look at something—or someone—over her head. She turned to see a pale-looking Rocco with his hands in his pockets.

‘I know he’s here. He came to see me first when he arrived.’ Rocco smiled faintly but it looked strained.

Gracie was tense. She didn’t understand Rocco’s lack of anger, or her brother’s lack of urgency. She tore her eyes from Rocco. ‘Steven … what …?’

He smiled and looked tired. ‘It’s a long story. I’ve explained everything to Mr de Marco. I was blackmailed, Gracie, by some guys I knew in prison. They knew where I was working and they had some knowledge of fraud and inside trading. They threatened to expose me to Mr de Marco. I was terrified I’d lose the best thing that had ever happened to me … The whole thing escalated until they wanted too much money and I panicked and ran …’

Steven glanced at Rocco, and Gracie saw the respect in his face.