Closer (28 page)

Ping
,
ping, ping
.

He rose up from the bed, searching out the unfamiliar chimes of a phone message.  Buried beneath the folds of the sheets, he discovered Inez’s cell phone. 
Forgotten in the wake of seeking out Luna’s giraffe
.  He peered down at its screen.  It was the first time he could remember being able to read a phone message without a magnifying glass.

ENZO
, he read the name aloud and touched the screen to read the text.

I’m at your house but your grandmother tells me you and Luna are not here.  You cannot avoid me forever. 

A burning flame of jealousy flared inside Sven’s chest.  Inez’s phone pinged again.

If you are angry about what happened yesterday, it is because you still have feelings for me
.

Her phone pinged again.

And if you still have feelings for me, then I will not give up on us.  Te quiero, mi amor
.

Sven read the words over and over again until he realized the constriction in his heart had transferred to his clenched fist.  Visceral memories overwhelmed him.

In a sudden flashback, Sven relived the last time he had vied for a woman’s heart.  He remembered the sensation of bobbing up and down while standing on the starboard deck of his sailboat and staring down his brother who had just confessed to stealing away Celeste. Hans had been right.  He hadn’t loved Celeste and he didn’t deserve to marry her.  But the betrayal of both his girlfriend and his brother enraged him.  In a primal quest for revenge, he charged against Hans’ chest, knocking him against the steering console and bloodying his nose with a direct punch.  They scuffled, wrestling like schoolboys, before Sven struck him again—a cracking punch to the ribs.  The windy night rocked the ship.  Sven wrestled his brother like a mortal enemy until they were halted by the sound of Celeste’s scream as they knocked her overboard into the churning waves.  Hans threw the lifesaver to her while Sven drove into the black abyss after her. 

The only thing he remembered was the scorching strike to his eye socket, crashing against the hull of the ship and bursting into light like a nova star, before his hands and legs turned limp as he was smothered beneath the waves. 

Smothered beneath the waves
.  That’s how he suddenly felt in that moment. 

He touched his injured eye, overwhelmed by the memory.  Now, just like then, he held his breath, fighting against the same sense of helplessness—being dragged down, down, down as the black waves suffocated him.  It was happening all over again.  He imagined himself back on the deck of that yacht, his emotions coursing through his chest like shards of glass scraping against his heart.
Yes, he would do it all over again
, he vowed.  Because this time, he wasn’t enraged by the possibility of losing the woman he thought he loved.  This time, it was a certainty—
he knew he loved her
.

Giving in to the same vengeful impulse that had ruined his life for the past year, he lifted up Inez’s phone and texted back.

I am staying at 767 Washington Ave.  Penthouse suite 1500.  I will be here until three o’clock.  Don’t be late
.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Sven lay in wait in his dimly lit study, lounging in his chair as his eyes fixated on the video screen of the security camera.  While sipping the Holland gin from his tumbler, he studied Enzo approaching the front door of his penthouse. 

The doorman had called up minutes ago.  Sven had given him permission to send Enzo up through the private elevator, and now, he watched him search for the door buzzer before giving up and pounding on the door.  “Inez?”

The front door clicked ajar and Enzo passed through it. 

Sven swiped the screen and switched cameras, tracking Enzo’s cavalier gait as he glided along the black marble floors through the living room. 

“Inez?” Enzo called out again, meandering towards the exterior walls of glass offering the panoramic view from the skyline.  Met only with silence, Enzo doubled back through the living room along the ornamental mosaic wall and swaggered down the long corridor leading into the master bedroom, as if he expected to find her there, naked and in bed, awaiting his arrival. 

“Inez?”

Enzo checked the bathroom before exiting onto the patio and surveying the balcony suite through the panels of glass.  Then, he sauntered back into the master suite and stopped in his tracks, realizing he had missed a crucial detail during his first pass through the bedroom—the wall safe. 

Like a hunter tracking his prey, Sven downed his drink, eyeing the video screen. 

“Open the safe,” he whispered to Enzo’s image on his video screen.

As if he heard the command, Enzo rubbed his chin, edged towards the safe, and peeled open the door that Sven had conveniently left unlocked. 

Like a criminal, Enzo glanced around him, weighing his chances of being caught, before pulling out the massive stack of cash and fanning through the endless bills with his thumb.

“You’re lucky that’s intended for you,” Sven called out to him, leaning against the doorjamb.  “Otherwise, it would be considered robbery.”

Enzo tossed the stack onto the bed.  “Ah, a trick from the fancy dentist boyfriend.  I should have guessed.” He spread out his hands as if to show he had nothing to hide and circled the room.  “Where’s Inez?”

“She’s not here.  This is a meeting between you and me.”

Enzo peered through his black eyelashes.  “Really?  Does Inez know this?”

Sven challenged him with a stern glare.  “You’re here because I have an offer to make.”

“What kind of an offer?”

“A financial offer.”

Enzo whistled.  “So her new boyfriend is already pulling strings behind her back.  I guess he’s not as honest and perfect as she thinks.”  He nodded at the portrait of Inez resting on the dresser.  “But he thinks he can buy whatever he wants, including her.”  Flashing him a cocky smile, he said, “Inez must still be in love with me.”

Sven felt the rage rising within his chest.  He pushed off the doorway’s edge and prowled towards him. “Fifty thousand dollars—in cash—if you leave the country and never contact Inez again.”

Enzo’s gleeful smile faded.  “That’s a lot of money,” he acknowledged, swallowing hard and staring down Sven.

“It’s yours.” Sven picked up the stack of cash from the bed and tossed it at Enzo’s chest.  “All fifty thousand of it.  Just agree to never contact her again.”

“But we have a daughter together.  She expects to see me.  Or at least, for me to see Luna.”

Sven shrugged, cruel and unforgiving.  “Luna will be fine without you.  I’m certain of it.”

Enzo eyed Sven’s determined stance, preventing his exit, and passed the stack of bills beneath his nose, inhaling their scent of authenticity.  “And if I accept it…this offer?  What’s to stop me from coming back into her life a year from now?  Or two?”

“I don’t think that would be wise.”  Sven said in measured words, slowly and distinctly.  “I have a video of you entering my penthouse, going to my bedroom and my safe, and withdrawing fifty thousand dollars in cash. That video could easily fall into the hands of the police, and it wouldn’t look very good for you.”

Enzo held up his hands like he had been caught.  “Ah, I see…I’ve been trapped.  Okay, fine…you win.  I’m not interested in trouble.”

Backing away from Sven, he flung the stack back onto the bed and circled around him towards the door.

“I think you should reconsider it,” Sven cautioned him, scooping up the bribe and holding it out to him like it was his final offer.  “Fifty thousand dollars—and the only thing you have to do is disappear.”

Accepting the stack, Enzo flipped through its bills again.  “And what if she comes looking for me?” he asked, as if he had found a loophole in their ironclad deal. “Then there is nothing you can do to stop her.”

“She won’t come looking for you—that I can promise you.”

Enzo cast him a sidelong glance.  “How?”

“Because I plan to love Inez and Luna more than you ever could.”

Enzo held his hands over his heart, feigning devastation.  “That’s very poetic.  But that doesn’t change the fact that Inez and I will always share a bond that is stronger than love.”

“Really?” Sven scoffed, unimpressed.  “And tell me, what is that?”

“Our child,” Enzo said firmly, his black eyes challenging him.

Sven shook his head and nodded to the bounty in Enzo’s hands. “No, I don’t think so.  Not if you accept that and walk out the door.”

They stared at each other in silence, waiting for the other to capitulate.  But in the end, Sven knew there was no contest because he knew his own strength and his opponent’s weakness—there was only one man in the room who truly wanted to be with Inez for the rest of his life, and it wasn’t the man who had fathered her child.  And there was only one man in her life who was willing to love her the way she deserved to be loved; and Sven was determined to make sure of it.

“I came from nothing, and I can go back to nothing,” Enzo finally said, like a warning shot before an attack.  “But now, I won’t ever have to worry about it again.”

He pocketed the cash and passed by Sven, intentionally bumping against his shoulder before disappearing down the corridor.  Sven held his ground without glancing back. 
It was done,
he thought.  He had succeeded in removing his rival from their lives, but perhaps at a cost far greater than a simple monetary exchange.  He gazed at Inez’s portrait on his dresser, knowing she had gifted him her ultimate trust.  The pleasure of his victory dissolved like melting ice through his heart. 
Had he just bought her salvation
or his own damnation
?

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Oh my goodness…isn’t she the most precious thing you’ve ever seen?”

Sven’s mother swept up Luna into her arms and pressed her lips against Luna’s perfectly shaped little head.  “And look at all this black hair and this tiny little nose, and these charming little feet!”

Sven flashed a smile at Inez.  She had been skeptical that Sven’s mother, Madame van der Meer—grand matriarch of one of Chicago’s most prestigious families—would have any interest in babysitting Luna for three hours in Sven’s penthouse while she and Sven attended the opening night gala of The Spire.  Apparently, Inez had been wrong.

“Oh dear me,” Madame van der Meer exclaimed, swaying Luna back and forth in her arms like she was her own kin.  “Look at the way she’s grasping my finger with her precious little hands.  And look at that little yawn.  Like an adorable
katje
.”

Inez peered at Sven, noting the flush in his cheeks. He cleared his throat, almost like an apology for his mother’s effusive affection.  “Kitten,” he translated for Inez.

Inez controlled her urge to tease him.  It was a side of Sven she had never seen—embarrassment.  It was as if he was a twelve-year-old schoolboy who barely knew how to act around his mother in front of his playground girlfriend.  The only difference was the fact that he was dressed in a black designer suit, awaiting to embark on the most important night of his career, and his mother was busy fussing and cooing over his girlfriend’s baby.

“Mother—” Sven interjected, interrupting Madame van der Meer as she nestled kisses into Luna’s belly.  “Inez has left you the bottles and milk in the refrigerator.  But you’re not to heat it up.  You must leave it on the counter for a little time before giving it to the baby.”

Madame van der Meer shooed her son away with a dismissive wave.  “How many children have I raised, Sven?  Hmm?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes up at something imaginary in the air.  He answered in Dutch, a reflexive response after being scolded by his mother.

“Yes, that’s right,” she answered back in perfect English.  “Two.  Two
boys
, no less…so I am well aware of how to care for an infant—especially one as easy and lovely as a baby girl. And I certainly don’t need any instructions on how to care for her unless it’s directly from the mother.”

Sven held up his hands and backed away.  “I will say no more.”

“Good.”  His mother nodded firmly.  Inez suddenly saw the source of Sven’s authoritative demeanor.  Her indistinct accent gave her an aura of sophistication while her striking green eyes and peacock face confirmed the origins of Sven’s well-defined facial features and rugged beauty. 

“Now, tell me my dear,” Madame van der Meer asked, lowering her eyes and voice towards Inez with deference.  “What should I know about your daughter, so that I may put your mind at ease while you are away from her?”

“Just that she loves being held, she hates being in her crib, and if she cries, it’s usually because she’s looking for this…”

Inez passed off the rubber giraffe to Madame van der Meer, who tested its squeak with a delighted laugh.  “Oh my, you
do
love that, don’t you?” Sven’s mother squeaked the toy more times than her son could apparently bear.

“Mother—” Sven finally insisted.  “We’re going to be late to our very important
work
function.  You must let Inez say goodbye to her child now.”

She turned away from her son with a shrug; clearly she didn’t give a damn.  “I’m certain your fancy gala can wait,” she informed him with certainty.  Turning to Inez, she said, “Sven and his brother, Hans, think the only thing important in life is work.   But as women, we
know
the exact opposite is true.  Happiness.  Happiness is the only thing that matters in life, and nothing would make me happier than to have my own boys grant me the gift of
kleinkinderen
.”

Impatient and uncomfortable, Sven circled the kitchen island and cleared his throat again. “Grandchildren,” he reluctantly translated.

“Yeah, I got that one that time,” Inez replied, stifling a smile. 

Earlier that evening, she had confided in Sven that she was insecure about meeting his mother.  She had doubts that Madame van der Meer would be impressed with her status as a young single mother.  Sven had shrugged it off, just like his mother shrugged him off now.  He had divulged to her that not even his own mother and father had been married.  The customs in the Netherlands were less conventional about nuptials and more interested in offspring.  For Inez, it seemed impossible to imagine Madame van der Meer as anything other than a traditional socialite.  Now, she realized that her assumptions had been wrong. Madame van der Meer may have been an heiress and philanthropist, but it was clear that in her own private moments Augustina van der Meer was like so many other women who simply loved children.

Inez studied Madame van der Meer’s black beaded sweater top and passed over a baby towel.  “And here…you’ll definitely need this.”

“For bathtime?” Sven asked earnestly.

Tsk
.  Sven’s mother clucked like a hen, clearly annoyed at her son’s ignorance. 

“No,” Inez replied.  “For burping time, spitting up time, or just plain drooling time.”

Madame van der Meer exhaled dramatically with a lamenting sigh.  “How is it possible that men can build entire skyscrapers, but know so
little
about babies?”  She tossed the towel over her shoulder and raised Luna up over it.

Sven tapped his foot and extended his wrist, glancing at his glimmering watch.

“Inez—” he petitioned for their rescue.

Inez caught a glimpse of her reflection in the stainless steel countertop of the kitchen island, certain her gown, hair and makeup were as ready as they would ever be.  She moved towards Luna and gave her a gentle good-bye kiss on her head.

“We’ll be home before it gets too late, but if you grow tired, the balcony suite is made up and ready for you,” Sven instructed his mother.  “A rocking chair and Luna’s crib are also there.”

She shooed him away with a dismissive wave.  “I’m just glad you have a date tonight.  I hate it when you and Hans try to drag me to all your company functions.”

“We do it to keep you entertained, Mother.” 

“Then, give me more kittens,” she insisted.  Taking the bottle into her hand, she started away from them and towards the balcony suite before quickly turning around and addressing Inez with a formal nod.

“You’re wearing the Prince Alexander heirloom tonight, I see?”

Inez touched the emerald and diamond choker around her neck.  Despite the crisp platinum setting draped against her skin, she had forgotten she was wearing it.  “Yes, I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all.  It looks lovely on you.” Madame van der Meer tilted back her head and gazed down her long, aquiline nose at the priceless treasure around Inez’s neck.  “And I hope you get to keep it.  That way, perhaps I will have the pleasure of babysitting for you again.” Shifting her hawkish eyes to Sven, she cautioned him in a maternal tone.  “In the meantime, however, I will pray that my son doesn’t ruin the chance of that for us both.”