The Undoing of de Luca (16 page)

She felt utterly rejuvenated, both inside and out.

A staff member had brought her lunch; another one had provided the finest selection of magazines. The young woman, Maria, who had first greeted her, tucked her into bed several hours later, informing her that she would return to dress her in two hours.

Ellery fell promptly asleep.

She woke to another knock at the door and, before she could even call out, Maria slipped into the room, a gown swathed in plastic draped over one arm.

‘
Buona sera, signorina
,’ she called out cheerfully. Then, in English, ‘I come to dress you.’

Ellery slipped out of bed and watched as Maria first took out the most delicate, exquisite undergarments she had ever seen. ‘These first.’

Ellery obeyed, exchanging the robe she’d slept in for the fragile lace. They felt like gossamer on her body, like silken cobwebs. She tried to glance in the mirror but Maria, smiling, shook her head and wagged a finger at her.

‘Not yet. Wait until the whole ensemble, it is finished. Now the dress.’ She undid the plastic to reveal the most beautiful and breathtaking dress Ellery had ever seen.

Made of shimmering lavender silk, it fell in a waterfall of colour from a simple strapless design, ending in a discreet yet dazzling row of lighter violet ruffles. It was a fairy-tale dress, a Cinderella dress, a dress in which to feel like a pampered princess. And Ellery couldn’t wait to wear it.

Maria helped her into it, advising her to sit carefully so as not to crush the gorgeous material. She styled her hair into a loose chignon, allowing a few artful tendrils to frame Ellery’s face. And then came the make-up: Ellery had never worn so much, yet, when she finally looked in the mirror, she didn’t look overly painted, just a better and more beautiful version of herself.

She looked, Ellery thought as she took in her own appearance, amazing. The dress hugged her bust and waist before swirling around her; Ellery turned in a quick, dizzying circle and laughed as the dress flew out around her.

‘Signor de Luca sent these,’ Maria said, holding up a magnificent pair of diamond teardrop earrings. They were real, Ellery knew, and had to be worth around half a million pounds. She fastened them in her ears with shaking fingers. ‘And these,’ Maria added. ‘He selected them in particular, apparently.’

Ellery opened the box to stare, smiling, down at the pair of diamond-studded stiletto sandals. Although they would hardly be seen under the gown, they still complemented the outfit perfectly and were the most amazing shoes she’d ever seen. She put them on and Maria handed her the final touch: a gauzy wrap in pale violet. Ellery slid it over her shoulders.

‘Signor de Luca will meet you in the hotel lobby.’

Ellery gave a shaky little laugh. She could hardly believe that any of this was real, that she—like this—was real. A few days ago she’d been scrubbing the kitchen floor, and now she was Cinderella about to go to the ball. And, at some point, whether tonight or tomorrow or five days from now, like Cinderella, she would most certainly lose all these gorgeous trappings. This had to end. Yet she didn’t want to think that way. She didn’t want to ruin the most magical night of her life with worries or fears. She just wanted to enjoy. To revel. She smiled at Maria. ‘Thank you for all of this.’

As she came out of the lift into the hotel’s opulent lobby, she saw Larenz right away. How could anyone fail to notice him, she wondered, for he was by far the most breathtaking man in the room. His curly hair had been tamed and combed back from his face and his powerful frame was perfection in an exquisitely fitting tuxedo. He turned when she left the lift, as if he’d sensed her presence, and then all of time and life itself seemed suspended as her eyes met his and held his gaze for an endless, enchanting moment.

Larenz took in her hair, her gown, her feet in one single sweep of his eyes that left Ellery breathless when she saw the blatant admiration and appreciation glinting in their navy depths.

He strode towards her, curling one arm around her waist to bring her into contact with the hard wall of his chest. Ellery lifted her face for a kiss but he brushed a kiss across her forehead instead. ‘
Magnifica.
I don’t want to spoil your make-up.’

‘Don’t worry—’

‘That gown matches your eyes perfectly. We should call that colour “Ellery”.’

‘You can’t—’

Larenz arched an eyebrow. ‘No? Perhaps a little more mystery is required. Do you know, when I first saw you I remarked on your eyes? I thought they were the colour of a bruise, but that is far too sad. They are happy now,’ he whispered in her ear, ‘the colour of the most beautiful sunset I have ever seen.’

Ellery let out a little bubble of laughter. ‘Is this the famous Italian charm?’

‘You’ve only noticed now?’ Larenz pretended to sound hurt. ‘Come, our car is waiting.’ He bent his head to murmur in her ear, ‘And, as always, nice shoes.’

The party was held in another of Milan’s best hotels but, so dazzled by everything, Ellery could barely take in the glinting chandeliers, black-suited waiters circulating with champagne, the clink of crystal and melodious tinkle of a piano offset by the low steady murmur of a hundred different conversations. Yet they all stilled to silence when she entered the ballroom on Larenz’s arm.

Ellery felt herself freeze as five hundred pairs of eyes seemed to train right on her. ‘They are wondering who this Cinderella is,’ Larenz murmured. ‘And, of course, the men are jealous of me.’

‘And the women?’ she tried to joke.

‘Wish they were so beautiful,’ Larenz replied smoothly, ‘of course.’

Yet the unreality of the evening didn’t fade as Ellery circulated through the ballroom, glued to Larenz’s side, watching as he chatted and laughed easily—mainly in Italian—with hundreds of different people.

After two hours Ellery had a headache from the constant noise, and a raging thirst from having consumed nothing but two glasses of champagne since they’d arrived. Her beautiful dress felt a little tight under her arms and her shoes pinched her toes. Besides that, all she’d had to eat since noon was a salad and she was starving.

Standing next to Larenz as he joked in Italian with a balding businessman, she had an intense, insane desire to be tucked up in bed with a bowl of popcorn and a good book.

‘Dinner is about to be served,’ Larenz told her. ‘You have been so patient, enduring all these business conversations.’

Ellery tried to smile. ‘It’s nothing.’

‘Still, I’m sure you’re hungry.’

‘Yes…I’ll just nip to the loo first. I’d like to freshen up before we sit down.’

She made her way through the maze of people, grateful for the blast of cooler air when she finally emerged from the crowded, overheated ballroom. A waiter directed her to the ladies’ room, which was blissfully empty. She had just gone into a stall when she heard two women enter, speaking for once in English.

‘Have you seen de Luca’s latest?’ one woman asked, her voice sounding bored and laconic.

‘That wilting flower? She won’t last long.’

Ellery froze, then leaned forward to glimpse the two women now reapplying their lipstick in front of the huge gilt mirror.

‘They never last long with Larenz,’ the first woman observed. ‘Yet he seems to be giving this one the star treatment. That gown is from his new line of fashion, and did you see those earrings? She looks like such a little mouse. Larenz must have given them to her.’

The second woman let out a trill of sharp laughter. ‘Payment for services rendered. She must not be such a mouse in bed.’ She smacked her lips and capped the tube of lipstick. ‘He always gives them the star treatment before the axe falls.’

‘Well, this one should be gone by tomorrow, then. I thought he was seeing someone else—a Greek girl, Al-something.’

‘That heiress? No, he sent her packing ages ago.’ The woman shrugged and capped her lipstick. ‘Oh, well. I’m sure we’ve just about seen the last of this mistress. I wonder who he’ll be on to next.’

Ellery didn’t hear the rest of the conversation; the buzzing in her ears was too loud. She waited until they had gone and the room was empty again before she left the stall. In the mirror, her face looked pale and shocked.

The gossip hadn’t surprised her; she’d known, of course she’d known, that Larenz had had plenty of women. She’d even known they didn’t last long. And whether or not
she
would last long—well, she knew just how long she was meant to last.

No, none of the casual yet vicious gossip had surprised her; it was the word the woman had used so carelessly.

Mistress.

She was Larenz’s mistress—a woman to be used and discarded. Just like her father had used and discarded both his wife and his own mistress—the woman who had shattered both her and her mother’s worlds.

These clothes, these jewels, these
shoes
—all of it was…what had the woman said? Payment for services rendered. She was a bought woman, a scarlet woman, a
slut
—

This wasn’t just a fling; she had no control. These rules, these terms, were not hers. This wasn’t, Ellery realized numbly, remotely what she’d wanted. She’d been such a fool, thinking it was. Convincing herself it was. And, worse, she’d been fooling herself in believing that Larenz might now feel more for her than a passing fancy—

He always gives them the star treatment before the axe falls.

Standing there, gasping, reeling from pain, Ellery felt it had already fallen.

Chapter Ten

S
OMEHOW
, Ellery made it back to the ballroom; by that time everyone was filing out towards the dining room. She couldn’t see Larenz and for once she was glad. She had no idea what she would say to him.

She was horribly conscious of the curious gazes and speculative stares, and now they no longer held admiration or even jealousy but malice or pity. Everyone here—the cream of European society—knew that she was Larenz’s mistress. Expected her to be on the way out of the door. Accepted that she had received this gown, these jewels, everything—for sex.

The only reason she was here was because she’d had sex with Larenz de Luca.

Of course. It was obvious; she couldn’t understand how she’d not made the connection before. She’d deceived herself so unbearably, Ellery thought. A hard knot of misery lodged in her middle, spreading outwards and taking over her whole body. She’d told Larenz, told Lil, told
herself
that she’d wanted a fling. She’d believed it. At least, her mind had.

Her heart wanted something else entirely. Her heart wanted a relationship. Her heart, she realized despondently, wanted love.

And, with the word
mistress
echoing horribly in her mind, she fully understood just how much of a fool she’d been, how empty what she had with Larenz—she couldn’t even call it a relationship—was.

Blindly, she left the crowds heading into the dining room, hurrying through the lobby so fast she nearly slammed into someone and one of her stiletto sandals slipped from her foot. Ellery barely noticed until a young porter grabbed it and caught up with her.

‘Signorina! Signorina! Vostro pattino!’

Ellery took it blindly, mumbling,
‘Grazie…grazie…’

‘Just like Cinderella, eh?’ The porter said in English, and Ellery flashed him an utterly mirthless smile.

‘Yes, just like Cinderella,’ she replied woodenly. She’d already turned into a pumpkin and it wasn’t even midnight.

She took a taxi back to the Savoia. At the concierge desk, she asked for another room and the man behind the desk frowned at her.

‘It is not necessary,
signorina
—’

‘Yes, it is,’ Ellery said firmly. ‘How much is your…most basic…room?’

The man frowned again and quoted a price that Ellery could never afford. Swallowing, she said, ‘
Scusi…
you’re right, it’s not necessary.’

She needed to get her things from the Presidential Suite anyway, and she should at least write Larenz a note and explain.

Yet how could she explain? How could she articulate that she’d agreed to his damned terms, to this whole wretched fling, because she’d thought she’d be in control? She’d thought she wouldn’t be like her mother then, waiting and pining and miserable. She’d thought she could handle it.

Yet, hearing those women in the ladies’ room, Ellery had realized she wasn’t like her mother at all. She was worse. She was like her father’s mistress. That was what this fling was: accepting presents, staying in gorgeous hotels, being wined and dined and
spoiled
, just as Larenz said, and all because she was his lover. His mistress. Payment for services rendered. An agreement whose terms he had chosen.

She felt like an idiot for not making the connection before, for not realizing what it all meant.
Of course
she was Larenz’s mistress. Of course a fling with a rich and powerful man would end up being like that.

Yet she’d been so determined not to act like her mother, she’d ended up acting like something far worse instead: the woman she despised, the woman who had stolen her father’s heart, not only from her mother but from her, too. The woman who had taken everything from her, even her memories, leaving her only Maddock Manor.

That
was why she stayed.

And it was why she had to leave now. She couldn’t be that kind of woman. She couldn’t even pretend to be that woman for a moment.

Ellery dragged herself up to the suite, fumbling with the key card, and finally managed to unlock the door, kicking off her hated sandals as she entered the living room.

‘What the hell were you doing?’

Ellery froze in shock. Larenz stood in the centre of the living room and he looked furious.

‘How did you get here?’ she managed numbly.

‘I saw you running from the party and took a taxi back here.’

‘And got here before I did,’ Ellery noted, still dazed. The wrap slid from her shoulders and puddled on the floor.

Larenz shrugged one shoulder. ‘You don’t know Milan. The driver most likely took a longer route to earn a few more euros.’