Page 45 of Ace of Hearts

Rose

June

Las Vegas, USA

I’ve relapsed.

I know it, though I don’t admit it to myself in so many words. My mother hasn’t stopped calling to ask why I canceled my flight, but I don’t answer. I feel trapped. Tito said he wants me to help him, but he hasn’t asked me to do anything. I get the sense he just wants to keep an eye on me.

Or maybe he’s making me stay just to torment me.

That’s exactly the kind of thing he’d do.

I’m doing my best to avoid him. I barely sleep in my new room. I spend my nights at the hotel casino or in the bar, depending on my mood. Naturally, I’ve already lost three-quarters of the money I managed to earn working for Levi.

That first evening, I decided to play a few rounds to release the tension and forget what had just happened. “A few rounds” turned into “all night.” It helped calm the tsunami of negative emotions that was threatening to drown me, at least for a few hours.

Then the next day, it all started again.

The first withdrawal symptoms. I recognized them a mile off. It’s like meeting an old friend. A habit, a ritual of emptiness I’d missed. It felt good to go back to something I knew. After two days, the negative effects started to appear.

Stress, anxiety, frustration, withdrawal.

At least I haven’t bumped into Levi or any of the others yet, thank God. They probably all hate me, and they’re right to. I heard that Lucky got knocked out, and so close to the semifinals too. I felt bad for him.

“You’re home early,” my father says as I come through the door into the suite, my head still fuzzy from the alcohol.

I take a drag of my cigarette. He tells me to put it out, but I ignore him and keep smoking, not looking at him. Tito always claimed to hate the idea of my coming to a casino because of my addiction, but he’s been strangely silent these last few days. I guess he really has abandoned me this time.

Levi was apparently the final straw.

“I have something for you,” he says.

I stop short, trying to ignore the signs of a migraine coming on. My father gets up, holding a package in his hand. He tells me to open it.

“A present?” I say mockingly. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“I was a little hard on you,” he admits, his voice soft. “I’m sorry. You’ve done some good work. I’m proud of you.”

I blink in astonishment. A strange feeling starts to swell inside my chest. I couldn’t say exactly what it is.

My father has never said anything like that to me before.

For one thing, he never apologizes. And I spent my whole life waiting for him to say those four little words, “I’m proud of you,” but he never did.

Until today.

“You walked into a trap, it’s true, but that can happen to anyone,” he says. “Let’s forget about it.”

He nods at the package, indicating I should open it. I stub out my cigarette in the nearest ashtray and take the velvet box in my trembling hands. Jewelry, by the look of things. Without meaning to, I remember the moment Levi slipped the ring onto my finger. My chest tightens.

The ring that I keep carefully wrapped inside a pair of socks at the bottom of my suitcase.

“Oh wow . . .”

It’s a long gold chain with the most sublime pendant, a heart-shaped aventurine. The stone is translucent, shot through with marbled streaks that give it a unique, luminous green luster. Tiny diamonds twinkle all around it—it’s a real beauty.

I feel torn. Should I accept the necklace as the apology it’s intended to be, or refuse it because I promised myself never to take anything from my father again? He’s done terrible things that I could never justify, but perhaps it’s possible that he can change?

I answer politely. “It’s wonderful.”

“Glad you like it.”

He helps me fasten it around my neck and gives me a peck on the forehead before disappearing into his room. I stand there a few minutes, feeling shaken. I put my hand up to the reassuring shape of the stone. It’s the first real grown-up gift he’s ever given me.

I splash my face with water in the bathroom, then pull on a pair of camel-colored trousers and an ivory satin top. Before I leave, I put on my sunglasses to hide my eyes, which are still red from too much alcohol. I need to get something to eat.

I make sure the corridor’s empty, not wanting to bump into Levi, and head for the lift. I wait impatiently for a few minutes, and when it arrives, I get in and hit the button for the ground floor. As the doors start to close, I lean back against the wall.

At the very last moment, a hand shoots through the gap between the doors, and they open to a figure I know only too well. I freeze.

Levi’s right in front of me, dressed all in black, like some kind of avenging angel. Gorgeous. His eyes are fixed on mine, or rather on my sunglasses. I remain still, my heart beating crazily. Seeing him hurts so much, too much. I can’t breathe.

At first, I think he’s going to get out again, but he doesn’t. He comes right in, hands in pockets, and turns so he stands with his back to me. The tension is palpable.

“Nice necklace.”

I nearly jump in surprise to hear him speak to me. Oh God, I’ve missed his voice so much. I need to get a grip on myself. I ignore him. Acting as though he didn’t exist is my best weapon, unfortunately.

“Though ... I’d personally have gone for a rutilated quartz stone for you. That stone isn’t your color.”

I almost laugh. What does he know about colors? That being said ... he’s right. Rutilated quartz does suit me much better, with its beige and brown tones. But I’d rather die than admit that.

Suddenly, he presses the emergency stop button. The lift trembles slightly, catching me off guard. I’m about to ask what he’s doing when he turns to face me, his intense gaze trying desperately to meet mine. I keep my mask firmly in place, terrified at the prospect of what he might say.

“I thought you’d gone back to Italy,” he says, his voice not giving anything away.

I give him a mocking smile. “I changed my mind. Sorry to disappoint you.”

For a few seconds, he simply observes me carefully. My arms break out in goose bumps, to my annoyance. I have to get out of here.

“Have you started gambling again?”

I can’t work out where he’s going with this. What’s his problem?

I take off my glasses to look at him properly, raising one eyebrow. “What do you want from me, Levi? Be quick. I haven’t got all day.”

His face is still impassive. I was clearly an excellent teacher. I’m very surprised when he says, “I’d like us to talk.”

“Haven’t we already said everything we had to say?”

He shakes his head, and this time I imagine I detect a hint of shame and regret in his expression. He seems to have difficulty getting his next words out.

“I didn’t give you a chance to speak that night. I was too angry ... but I should have.”

“I don’t see what difference that would have made.”

“A big one maybe,” he sighs. “I need to know once and for all. Did you mean it when you said you’d changed sides?”

I gaze at him in confusion. Why ask me that now, after everything that’s happened? I’m tempted to lie, but something in his expression forces me to be honest for the first time in my life.

“Yes.”

There. I’ve said it. My legs are trembling under me. Levi closes his eyes and shakes his head ever so slightly. He sighs deeply before opening his eyes again. He appears to be thinking something through. When he looks at me again, his expression is determined.

“I lied,” he says.

My brain seems to empty completely. I’m afraid of what he might mean.

He goes on, his face calm now. “When I said I used you, I lied. It’s true that when I discovered who you were, I didn’t say anything. But it was because I wanted to see what you were planning. I wanted to stop you, maybe even get you to change your mind.”

All I can hear is the frantic beating of my heart.

“But things didn’t turn out the way I thought they would,” he adds. “I started to hope ... that you’d choose me.”

I melt inside. I swallow hard, my feet rooted to one spot. Levi is telling me that he cares about me. Isn’t he? Or am I dreaming? Is this just another one of his games? It’s very possible. I can’t trust him. I can’t let myself suffer even more.

“Rose,” he murmurs. He slowly moves closer, stopping just a few centimeters from my face. “I’m prepared to forget everything. Forgive everything. I just want you to answer yes or no to one question, OK?”

I feel a desperate urge to cry. Because this is what I’ve dreamed of hearing, but also because I’m not sure I can believe him. I hold his anxious, silent gaze and note with astonishment that he’s let his mask fall. He’s standing there in front of me, the entirety of him laid bare.

“Rose Alfieri ... do you love me?”

His breath is no more than the faintest of caresses on my lips, but still my legs are threatening to give way, and my chest feels as though it’s about to explode.

He’s asking me if I love him. I want to tell him I do, but I’m so afraid he’ll use that against me.

It’s much easier to pretend to be a stone-hearted bitch.

And even if I did admit it now, what difference would it make?

Tito and his blackmail have me prisoner.

“No.”

I thought he’d close up again and hurl insults at me when I said that, or show his true colors by admitting everything he’d said was all a trick.

Instead, a sad smile appears on his lips. He lifts one hand and caresses my cheek tenderly.

“Do you know what your biggest mistake was?”

The silence between us is broken only by my pounding heart.

“Teaching me to detect lies,” he whispers, his finger running down my neck. “You’re breathing heavily ... like your heart rate has gone up. And you’re completely tense ... as though readying yourself for a confrontation.”

My pulse quickens even more at the touch of his finger. I shouldn’t have taught him all those things ... I look at him without blinking as he lowers his head and whispers to me.

“I think you love me, Rose. Very much.”

I’ve had enough. I can’t stand this. I give him a gentle push to free myself, but he takes my wrist. I look at him, knowing I’m completely trapped. His next words are my ruin.

“Ask me if I love you ... and see if I lie.”

I can’t do that. I’m too weak to withstand those words, that look. All of it.

“I don’t want to.”

“I warned you, remember?” He cuts me off in a reproachful voice. “I told you not to get involved with me. The lady doesn’t listen to advice, does she? And now you have to pay the price. So tell me ... what are you planning to do? Run away? You’re good at that.”

I’m suffocating. I’m not prepared for another fight, not if he’s planning to hit me where I’m vulnerable again. I feel a terrible urge to kiss him, to touch him and tell him I’m sorry, that he means more to me than anyone else in the world. But I’m not ready, damn it.

“If this is another one of your games, it’s not funny,” I warn him furiously, pulling my wrist out of his grip.

“I’m not playing a game.”

“You’ll excuse me if I have my doubts. I can never tell with you! You trick everyone; you’re always one step ahead. How do you expect me to confide in someone I can’t even trust?”

This time I’ve gone too far. I can see the anger in his expression.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve saying that to me, Rose. You of all people!”

It’s true. And that’s exactly what worries me. If we’re constantly playing games, unable to trust one other, what’s the point? I don’t want to be with a man I don’t trust to tell the truth, and I don’t want him to spend his life second-guessing my feelings.

“It seems we’re just not made for one another,” I say.

His smile is icy on his beautiful mouth.

“So it’s running away, then. Not too surprising but still disappointing. Rose goes back to her old ways because she’s scared of the dark, like a little girl terrified of the monsters under her bed.”

“Go to hell.”

“No, you go to hell,” he hisses. “You’re a coward, Rose. You make fun of Lucky, but you’re worse than he is. If you still don’t believe me even after I’ve told you my most intimate secrets ... there’s nothing else I can do.”

He doesn’t give me time to reply. He presses the emergency stop button again, and the lift starts to move. I feel terrible. He’s right; I’m a complete coward.

“I’ve had enough,” Levi adds in a low voice as the doors finally open on the ground floor. “I’m not going to run after you anymore.”

Then he disappears without another word.

I lean against the wall to keep from collapsing, my knees are so weak. The problem isn’t whether I believe him. That was just an excuse. I saw the sincerity in his eyes.

Levi Ivanovich feels the same way about me as I do about him.

The problem, the real problem, is Tito. I don’t want to imagine what will happen if I decide to go back to Levi. My father will probably do something drastic in revenge. It’s unthinkable.

I’d rather have Levi hate me than have him go to prison. He’ll curse me ... but at least he’ll be free, and he’ll be with his mother again, like he’s always wanted.

My family has hurt them enough already.

I won’t curse them a second time.

I’m not going to eat after all. I’ve lost my appetite.

I go straight back upstairs and take off the stupid necklace, which suddenly feels too heavy around my neck. I can’t believe I let my father buy me back. It was a bribe, pure and simple. He’s good at that sort of thing.

I take a shower and go straight to bed. I fall into a heavy, dreamless sleep that lasts three hours, until I’m woken in the early afternoon by a series of loud bangs on the door.

I ignore them, thinking that Tito will open it, or that our impromptu visitors will give up and go away, but the noise continues.

I finally get up and open the door, still half-asleep. I stiffen when I see three security guards.

“Hello. Are you Rose Alfieri?”

“Er . . . yes.”

“Can you confirm that the person in this picture is you?”

I screw up my eyes and inspect the photo they hand me. It’s black and white. It looks like it must have been taken by a security camera. It shows me waiting for the lift, earlier this morning.

“Yes, that’s me. What’s going on?”

“I’m going to have to ask you to come with us.”

My heart does a somersault. I ask them why, but the man who first spoke to me just frowns and says something I can hardly believe I’m hearing.

“You’ve been accused of theft.”