Chapter 52

Although I had expected that answer, it still struck me dumb for a second when she said it. Letting her live...for now, yes. I needed her to live. For now. The first demand was harder to answer without giving away my answer to the second. "I want you to be your sister."

She didn't seem surprised by my response. "What exactly will that entail?" Lifting her fork and knife, she cut off another piece of chicken and put it in her mouth.

"I will need you to transform into Nicole. New clothes. New hair. Perhaps contacts, as I think her eyes are bluer than yours. Am I right?”

She nodded. “They are. She’s always been more…” she looked around for the word she was looking for, “vibrant than me.”

“I seriously doubt that,” I told her.

She harrumphed as she looked down at her plate and moved the broccoli around with her fork. “You didn’t know my sister.”

“I didn’t need to. I saw her interview on TV. It was enough to see she didn’t hold a candle to you.”

Her fork slowed, but that was the only reaction she gave to my honest words.

Seeing she was uncomfortable, I continued our original discussion. "Once everything is done, you'll no longer be Veda, except when we're alone in this house. As Nicole, you'll accompany me when I need you to, wherever I need you to, and you'll have nothing but fucking love for me when others are around."

"And then?"

Then you will die in front of the man I have grown to hate. I understood her relationship with her sister more than she knew. "I'm still working the rest of it out."

She didn't believe me. I hadn't expected her to. My Veda was much more intelligent than that. She caught my gaze, her trembling lower lip giving her away, despite the steel in her gray eyes. "I want to live, Luca."

But that was a very dangerous option for me, which meant it wasn’t an option at all…unless…maybe…there was something I could hold over her. "Your parents," I said. "Where do they live?" I threw it out there casually, taking a bite of my veggies.

Her fork dropped to her plate with a clang. "I'm not telling you that."

Ignoring her outburst, I briefly closed my eyes, savoring the taste of the food. The broccoli was steamed to perfection. "You have to give me something, Veda, for me to even consider this. If you were in my shoes, knowing what you know, and our places were reversed, would you just let me go willy-nilly out into the world again?"

I had to give her credit, for she thought about it. Really thought about it. She even managed to hold her composure as she said, "No. I wouldn't."

"Then you understand the position you're putting me in?"

She gave me a nod, her hands clenching into fists where they were resting on the table.

"Eat," I told her. After a few tense seconds, she did as I demanded, and I continued our conversation. "Let's set that one aside for now, to be discussed again at a later time. What else would you like?"

"My own clothes."

Ah, this one was easy. "Done. But you're only to wear them when you're here. From what I've seen of your sister, you two appear to have different tastes in clothes. When you go out with me, you’ll wear what she would.”

"We do," she admitted quietly. "She liked to think of herself as quite the fashionista."

"And what is your style, Veda?"

"Hot Texas Summer."

My lips twitched in amusement. "What else would you like?"

"I want to call my parents."

I started to shake my head, but she quickly jumped in.

"I won't tell them anything about you," she swore. "But I normally call them at least every other week or so. They'll worry about me." Silently, she pleaded with her eyes. "I just want to let them know I'm okay. And I need to tell them about Nicole..." Her words tapered off and her eyes filled with tears.

"You can't call them. And you can't tell them about your sister. Not yet," I added. Because I understood. I truly did.

Her eyes shot to mine. "They deserve to know. You asked me who I needed to call..."

"I only asked you that so you would tell me who might be looking for you. Of course, you can't call them." I sat forward in my chair. "What sense would that make, Veda? If you told anyone your sister is dead, how would I play my game?"

"You fucking bastard." Her voice was cold and quiet.

I smiled and set my fork down, then I leaned back in my chair and met her look with one of my own.

“Do we have an agreement, then? You convince everyone you’re Nicole, and I will buy you some clothes and leave your parents be. For now. The rest will be discussed at a later date. Yes?”

She stared at me across the table, her jaw set and her eyes cold. As a single tear rolled down her cheek, she nodded.

Sliding my arms beneath her, I lifted her and carried her toward the bathroom. She was light as a child in my arms. And that pissed me off even more. "What the fuck are you doing to yourself?" She'd lost enough weight that I could hold her in one arm as I turned on the shower. But it wasn't until I sat her under the spray fully clothed that she woke from her stupor.

Throwing her hands up in front of her face to block the spray of water, she coughed and sputtered. "What the fuck, Luca?"

"You stink," I told her. "And I'm not eating my dinner with you like this."

"Nobody asked you to," she said with a little more life in her voice. Yet she just sat there under the spray, not even trying to get up. Like she didn’t have the energy to fight me with anything other than her words.

Taking off my T-shirt and jeans, I folded them neatly and got into the shower. When I laid my hands on her, I was relieved to see some of the fire return to her eyes. She fought me as I stripped her down, but she was weak from lying in bed and not eating. And when I saw her ribs and hipbones poking out of her skin, I growled low in my throat, barely containing my outburst of temper, furious at her for not taking care of herself. Grabbing the shampoo, I lathered up her long hair, rinsed it, and washed it a second time. Then I did the same with her body, scrubbing every inch, then forcing her under the spray of water to rinse.

Veda cursed me the entire time, her thin arms trying to push me away. But by the time I turned off the water, she was clean, and I was soaked. Grabbing a towel from the heated rack, I rubbed her briskly until her blood flowed and her skin was a healthy pink, and then bundled her up in it before I wrapped a second one around my waist. "Come on," I told her, grabbing my clothes.

She tried to crawl back into bed, but I headed her off and marched her down the hall to my room, where I held onto her wrist as I found her some clean, dry clothes.

"I don't want to wear your stuff!" she spit at me.

"Would you rather sit at my table naked?" I asked her calmly. "Because I don't mind. You're way too thin, but at least you still have your tits."

Her lip curled, and she pulled back her arm.

I caught it before her palm could make contact with my face. "Do NOT hit me again."

Her nostrils flared as she glared up at me. We stood, locked in a standoff, until she yanked her arm from my grasp and grabbed the clothes I held out for her. Stomping into the bathroom, she slammed the door. I heard the lock click.

I allowed her the moment of rebellion as I got myself dressed. When she came out, modestly covered in one of my shirts and some lounge pants that hung from her thin hips despite the drawstring, I walked over to her and took one of her hands in mine, forcing her to unclench her fist. Holding her hand between my two palms to warm it, I took a moment to rein in my temper. Fighting with her would not get me what I wanted—her compliance. "As I was saying, I made us dinner. And I would appreciate it if you kept me company. I thought we could talk." It was a command, not an invitation, but she seemed to take it as one anyway.

Her deadened eyes traveled over my face. Once. Twice. Before she finally said, "Fine."

Releasing her hand, I indicated for her to lead the way down to the dining room. I followed her closely, ready to catch her if her strength gave out.

"Sit, Veda. Please," I added when we arrived at the table. After a pause, she took a seat. I got the food from the oven and dished it out onto two plates, then I poured her some wine and sat down across from her. "I have a new offer for you," I told her.

"The only thing I want from you is for you to let me go."

"You know I can't do that."

"You can," she emphasized. "You just won't."

"Fair enough," I told her. "I will not let you go. But perhaps we can come to an agreement that will work for both of us."

"Like, what kind of agreement?" she asked after a pause.

"Eat something, and I'll tell you."

With a heavy sigh and a great show of reluctance, she picked up her fork and knife and cut off a small piece of chicken and put it in her mouth, chewing it slowly, then swallowing as though she were trying to choke down a tennis ball. I chose to ignore her rude manners, and just be happy she was eating something. I took a bite of my own chicken just to make sure it hadn't dried out too much in the oven, but no, it was fine. Better than fine, as a matter of fact. Closing my eyes, I savored the taste. I hadn't made my mother's chicken piccata in a long time. God rest her soul.

"You said you would tell me if I ate something. I ate something."

I glanced up at her over the short expanse of the table. She was sitting with her hands in her lap, her food untouched in front of her except for the one small bite I'd forced her to take. "I'll tell you what, for every bite you take, I'll tell you something new, or let you ask a question, if you prefer. But if your plate isn't clean when we are done, this new deal I’m about to offer you is off the table."

"I'm really just not hungry, Luca."

There was no fight in her tone this time, but at least there was still a little light in her eyes. "This isn't up for negotiation," I told her.

She stared at me for a long moment, then picked up her fork and stabbed it into the broccoli with quite a bit more viciousness than was necessary, even if one wasn’t a fan of that particular vegetable. Without taking her eyes from me, she shoved it into her mouth and begin to chew.

"So," I began. "I've been thinking about things while you've been holed up in the spare room." Taking another bite of chicken, I made her wait as I chewed and swallowed. "I understand that it's not fair for me to make demands of you without offering you something in return. Therefore, I'm giving you this chance, this one chance, to strike a deal with me. So, tell me, Veda, what is something that you would like out of our arrangement?"

"I want to know how you plan to use me. And I want to live," she said immediately.