PunishingPhoebe (3 page)

Her tongue broke its paralysis, but she
hesitated. An image of Anya flashed behind her eyes. Her sister navigating the
streets of New York with a white cane, at the mercy of any number of things she
couldn’t control. Just a year ago Anya had been a happy, normal
nineteen-year-old, until the headaches and loss of night vision, followed by
the rapid onset of total blindness. Sitting before her was the answer to
restoring her sister’s sight.

Salvatore’s pen hovered over the check.
“Well, do we have a deal, Miss Sanders?”

“No.” Her voice was little more than a
whisper. “I want twice that.” It left a bitter taste in her mouth to form the
words, but she tried to suppress her outraged pride and think logically. No
matter how loathsome Salvatore’s attitude and offer, she owed it to her sister
to do everything she could to restore her sight. She had taken care of Anya for
years, and now wasn’t the time to stop. She would do anything to get her sister
into the program in Boston, regardless of what it did to her pride or
self-esteem.

He barely batted an eyelash. “Of course.”
With a flourish, he filled in the blanks and ripped off the check. He waved it
at her, and Phoebe forced herself to walk forward to take it from his
outstretched hand. Her stomach cramped when she held the slip of paper in her
hand, and her vision blurred when he said, “Everyone has a price, Miss Sanders.
Yours was cheap, just like you.”

“I’ll tender my resignation tomorrow.” She
turned away from the nasty old man to keep him from seeing her tears.

“Tonight,” he said firmly. “Once it’s on
Luca’s desk, I will personally see you to the airport.”

She whirled around. “What?”

“I just bought something from you, Miss
Sanders. Your absence. You will be leaving the city tonight.” He glowered up at
her. “I want no opportunity for Luca to see you again, to have you conveniently
change your mind as soon as the check clears.”

What did it matter where she was? Whether
in New York or Ghana, Luca would hate her if he ever learned she had accepted
money to resign. She had no doubt Salvatore would tell him if she didn’t leave.
As vindictive as the man was, he would probably tell Luca anyway. Once he knew
the truth, she didn’t want to be anywhere near him. It would be too humiliating
to have to face him again.

“Fine, but I can find my own way.”

“I said—”

She cut him off. “I have business to take
care of first, but I guarantee you I’ll be out of New York by tomorrow.” With
any luck, she and Anya could get a flight to Boston later that night.

He seemed on the verge of arguing but
settled into silence. His eyes never left her as Anya went to her desk to turn
on her computer. When the word processing program loaded she typed a brief
letter of resignation, giving no reason for her abrupt departure. She feared
Luca would think the worst, maybe worry about her, but knew Salvatore would
soon enlighten him to the truth of the situation.

The printer spat out the page quickly and
Phoebe signed her name before she could have second thoughts. The check she had
slipped into her pocket seemed hot, burning through her clothes, and nausea
nearly overwhelmed her when she laid aside the pen and rose to her feet. She
left the letter centered on the desk, along with her nameplate and a small
potted plant. She didn’t worry about retrieving sundry items she had brought in
when first hired. With a twinge of sadness, Phoebe picked up the silver-framed
photo on the edge of her desk, looking down at her sister’s countenance. The
two of them looked happy in the picture taken on the Santa Monica pier, and
they had been. She remembered that day, how carefree they had been just weeks
before their parents would be taken from them and all innocent joy would be
lost forever.

Phoebe didn’t look at Salvatore as she took
her final walk across the office. When he started to speak, she held up her
hand. “Save it. I have no more patience for your senseless hatred, old man.” It
gave her a tiny spark of pleasure to speak her mind, but it was the only bright
spot of the day, aside from knowing she could finally offer her sister hope
again.

* * * * *

“But how?” Anya asked for at least the
tenth time in twenty minutes.

Phoebe bit back an impatient sigh. “Don’t
worry about that right now. Just concentrate on getting yourself ready. Our
flight leaves tomorrow morning at nine-thirty and the clinic is expecting you
at one o’clock.”

“I can’t go. My classes…my part-time job…”

“The university will still be there when
you’re finished with treatment, if you still need to go there. Don’t worry
about working. I have enough to cover our expenses for a while.”

Anya sounded upset. “I’m not sure about
this.”

“Why are you hesitating?” She winced at the
sharpness of her words and softened her tone. “This is your only chance to ever
see again, kiddo.”

“I know, but I’m scared. It’s so risky, and
the results are mixed.”

She sighed impatiently. “It will be worth
it when you’re back to normal again. Please don’t worry so. I’ve always taken care
of you, haven’t I?”

“Yes.”

She would bet Anya was chewing on her lower
lip right then, though she couldn’t see her through the phone. “Trust me. Focus
on getting your sight back and let me worry about everything else.”

After another hesitation, the other woman
sighed. “All right. I’ll be ready. When will you pick me up?”

“I’ll come for you around seven. We can—”
She broke off when her doorbell rang, followed almost immediately by a loud
pounding. Her mouth went dry and she barely managed to hide her apprehension
when she spoke again. “I’ll call you back later. There’s someone at the door.”

She hung up the cordless and tossed it on
the sofa as the knocking became more insistent. Instinct urged her not to open
the door and she hesitated with her hand on the chain, unable to summon the
courage to even peek through the peephole. She already knew who her visitor was
and why he was there. He knew. She didn’t know how, but he must, and she
couldn’t face him.

“Open the door this minute, Phoebe. I know
you’re home. Your doorman said you haven’t been out all evening.”

His anger was palpable through the wood
separating them, and she shivered under the force of it. “Please go away, Luca.
I’m busy.”

“I’ll bet. Open the door, or I’ll call the
police.”

She frowned. “I think you’re confused.
Shouldn’t I be the one calling the police if you don’t leave?”

“Feel free, but you’ll end up in jail right
beside me. Extortion is a felony, you know.”

His threat sounded serious and she
swallowed the lump in her throat as she opened the door, leaving on the
security chain. She winced at the rage in his expression and her knees
trembled. “Please go away,” she said in a weak whisper.

“Let me in.”

Phoebe shook her head. “We have nothing to
say to each other.”

Luca lunged forward, his face inches from
hers. With gritted teeth, he said, “I have plenty to say to you. It’s your
choice whether your neighbors hear it too. If you don’t want a scene, unchain
the door and let me in. Now!”

She closed the door in a hurry, confident
he would withdraw his face in time. It was tempting to turn the deadbolt again,
instead of releasing the security chain, but she had to face him. Somehow, it
would be easier if she wasn’t wearing a silky red robe she’d slipped on for
comfort. And nothing else.

He barged in as soon as the chain rattled
against the door, not even waiting for her to open it again. Luca slammed the
door behind him, never taking his gaze from her. She stared at him anxiously,
wondering what he would do next. “What are you doing here, Luca?”

“I went into the office to work on the
Giovanni merger. There’s still a lot left to accomplish before we officially
take them over.” His disheveled state indicated he had been working hard. His
tie was crooked and he had discarded his jacket somewhere. She had never seen
him in anything except a suit, so the crisp whiteness of his shirt was enough
to make her mouth water, even under the circumstances. It set off his brown
complexion and emphasized the darkness of his short hair and eyes.

Phoebe blinked, trying to tear her
attention from his body. She nodded, daring to hope he was here for something
business-related. “I left a stack of memos on your desk before leaving.” Maybe
he hadn’t seen the letter of resignation on her desk. Perhaps his anger was due
to a hitch with the deal.

He disabused her of that hope quickly.
“Which time before leaving, Phoebe? Your letter stunned me. Not a word of
explanation, not even anything remotely personal.” His eyes, already dark with
anger, seemed to burn blacker still. “You thanked me for the opportunity to
work with me and said you had to resign. Don’t you think you owed me an
explanation?”

She swallowed down moisture at the back of
her throat. “It’s a family situation.”

“Don’t lie to me anymore. You’ve lied
enough already.”

Her eyes widened. “When have I ever lied to
you before?”

The words were more of a growl than a
statement. “When you submitted your resume, for one. You told me you’d taken
time off to reevaluate your career. I guess you were afraid I wouldn’t hire you
if you admitted the truth about your last place of employment.”

She sagged forward. Why hadn’t she
anticipated Salvatore telling Luca everything? It had been the old man’s goal
to alienate her from Luca, and what better way than his twisted version of what
had happened with Danny Seaton? “I can explain.”

“I don’t care.” A vein bulged in his
forehead. “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters anymore.”

The finality of his words suggested he was
on the verge of leaving and she battled a surge of relief mixed with sadness.
This wasn’t how she had wanted things to end between them.

She squared her shoulders. “If that’s all
then, I have business to attend to.” She still had arrangements to make for
their stay in Boston and was awaiting a fax from the assistant of the director
of the clinic with further information about the study in which Anya was
enrolling. After all that, she hoped to have time for a good cry.

“That’s not all,” he said silkily. “I’m not
through with you yet.”

“What do you want from me?” she asked
through trembling lips.

“What I paid for.”

Her confusion must have shown, because he
expounded. “When I saw the letter, I knew my father had something to do with
your abrupt resignation.” He shook his head. “Can you believe I actually feared
for your safety? I thought he might have harmed you. I didn’t see how else he
could have persuaded you to leave me, not when we were getting so close.”

She closed her eyes as each word speared
her heart like a dart. “Please…”

He ignored her interruption. “I didn’t
believe him at first. I was certain he was lying. You aren’t the kind of person
he described. You would never lie to me about your past. You certainly couldn’t
have driven a married man to attempted suicide after your affair went sour. You
absolutely wouldn’t allow my father to buy you off—not only that, but
threatened him with sexual harassment charges if he didn’t meet your price.” A
harsh laugh, holding little amusement, escaped him. “I was wrong about you,
wasn’t I?”

“I didn’t—” She broke off, knowing he
wouldn’t believe her assertion she hadn’t threatened Salvatore, especially
since she couldn’t deny his other charges. Numbness settled over her at the
crushing weight of disappointment reflected from his eyes. “I’m sorry if I hurt
you.”

He blinked, and any trace of vulnerability
disappeared. “I’m not hurt, Phoebe. I’m not even angry now.” His body language
belied that statement. “In fact, I’m grateful to my father for showing me just
what kind of person you are. I have no reason to feel guilty for what I’m
doing.”

“What’s that?” she asked warily.

“Claiming what I bought.” He scowled. “P
apà
wasn’t happy about me reimbursing him
the cost of your cooperation, but didn’t keep protesting when I threatened to
have him removed from the board. He knows I can do it, so he fell in line.”
Luca reached out to take hold of her upper arms, drawing her closer. “I own you
now.”

Phoebe shook her head. “You can’t own
someone else.”

“The check I wrote to my father says
otherwise.”

She bit her lip, frantically trying to
decide on a course of action. She would have to return the check. He couldn’t
threaten her with extortion if she didn’t cash it. But she couldn’t return it.
After what she’d gone through to acquire the money, she couldn’t just hand it
over, leaving Luca with a horrible opinion of her and no job. It seemed
unlikely he or Salvatore could prove extortion anyway, based simply on the old
man’s claim she had tried to blackmail him with the threat of sexual
harassment. She still didn’t have the time or money to fight the claim right
now if she wanted Anya to get her sight back.

He seemed to read her mind. “Don’t bother
returning the money. You’re well worth the price of acquisition…or you will
be.”