Page 39 of Seasons of Sin

“That was four days ago,” Rocco said slowly. “And?”

“And what?” Thaddeus’s sharp response did not invite further interrogation.

“Listen. You need to forget about her. Go out. Get wasted. Meet someone else. Put Saphire completely from your mind.”

Thad instantly recoiled from the idea. “That isn’t the solution,” he said slowly.

“So? What is?”

An excellent question, to which Thaddeus had no answer.

“Look, Thad. You just buried a man who raised you as his son. Your grandfather was an anchor point in your life and now he’s gone. You are not yourself. That’s the only reason this woman has been able to effect you in this manner.”

“Aristotle is not the reason I … came to care for Saphire. She is.”

“She lied to you. She used you. And she’s in love with someone else. You need to forget about her.”

Thaddeus knew his friend was right. He watched as, in the distance, the clock struck the hour and the tower began to sparkle and shine.

And all it did was make him wish Saphire was there with him, to see it.

How her eyes would have lit up at the spectacle.

But she was not with him. She was back in London; determined to stay married to a man who had never deserved her.

CHAPTER 9

The building towered over the others, as it always had. From the day it was built, it had been intended to dwarf and belittle.

Saphire stood, hands planted on hips, and stared up at it. The sky was a brilliant shade of blue, pocked by the occasional wisp of cloud and the unmistakable marks of passing aeroplanes. A late summer breeze rustled past, plastering her maxi dress to her legs. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, but instead of the salt and sunshine of Greece, she tasted London’s smog and streets on her tongue.

Her bright eyes blinked at the building once more and with a grimace of determination she began to move towards it slowly. Cars were zipping in both directions. She waited on the edge of the footpath, concentrating only on crossing the street.

One step at a time.

One step at a time and eventually this life might feel like hers again.

A gap formed and she moved with alacrity through it, skipping onto the opposing footpath and pausing yet again. Just long enough to draw in another breath, then she was off, moving towards the revolving doors.

A plane flew overhead right as she entered and Saphire paused, spinning sharply to stare up at it. Was it a Konstanides jet? She couldn’t tell from that distance, but she watched until it had passed completely out of sight, then shook her head.

What was Thad doing?

Unconsciously, her fingers reached for her shoulder, where the last of his wax marks were still visible.

It hadn’t even been a week.

Her gut clenched with the force of her memories, but she banked down on them.

It had been an aberration. She’d wanted to break free of her marriage, to hurt her husband as he had her, and instead she’d ruined everything. Most of all her own life.

Her heels made clicking noises against the tiles. She moved efficiently, jabbing a manicured finger into the upward button at the bank of stainless steel elevators. There was a slight delay before the doors swished open, revealing a small cubicle rounded by mirrors.

Saphire hardly recognized herself.

She lifted her fingers to her lips as she entered, then pushed her Gucci sunglasses high up on her head. Her hair was neat, pulled into a chignon. Her make up was impeccable, and she’d worn one of her favorite dresses from the previous year’s fashion week.

But there was a subtle shift in all of her features. A confidence and edginess that had never been there before.