Chapter 4 4. Bianca's Story

There's a roaring in my ears, for I have not had a thing since breakfast, which was just a sandwich.

My breath catches in my throat as I gulp, knowing that I have to say something, have to plead with the man in front of me, to help me to pay off my poor Dad's bills.

For Liam O'Grady and Finn St Just are the realtor giants who are buying every property in sight, turning them into fancy housing estates for the elite. Lavish bungalows in gated societies, with pools huge gyms, movie theatres, and restaurants...the works.

And they are also loan sharks...

So I want to get them to loan me the money to get out of Dean Nelson's clutches...

It's become an obsession with me and I have been planning and plotting over the months for this one encounter.

Only, with one thing and another, I could not come over.

First the oven at the bakery malfunctioned. Then the twins came down with fever...

But now, I'm here, finally.

And I'm not going away till I get the men to agree to help me.

&

I look up, way up, into the cold tawny eyes for the man is tall, towering over me. He is handsome, with mussed-up hair that verges on a beaten gold kind of blonde, and that's an understatement. His clothes; that's what I notice. An expensive white silk shirt, the sleeves rolled up carelessly, the trousers clinging to his strong thighs. L feel his eyes on me and look up startled, and my gaze focuses on the cruelty in his mouth.

Instinctively, I know that he is a man who will extract a price for everything he does. Nothing will come free.

I will have to pay if I ask him for help. But...

My stomach churns as I begin to understand what I am letting myself into...

&

I swallow and open my mouth to speak, for the man is watching me, his face shuttered, only his golden eyes alive and curious.

&

His expression is disinterested, almost pitying as he studies me in silence and I feel as though the world has been shut out. The look he gives is one of neutral speculation. Like a man watching a particularly uninspiring show on TV.

&

I swallow again, my throat tight as I manage to get the words out.

"Uhhh...I wanted...I wanted to ..."

But he's already turning away, dismissing me, his expression bored.

'Melanie,' he says in that smoker's voice, addressing the blonde who looks like she's going to fall onto her knees and worship him,

"I..."

But I pounce, grabbing his sleeve in desperation and hear the worshipful Melanie gasp in outrage.

'Please Sir," I stammer and his eyes, widen slightly before they narrow to slits.

"What?' he growls and I hear my heart hammering. Surely everyone can hear it too?

Something has changed between us; it's in the air, a sizzle of chemistry?

It feels like static and I step a little away. But his gaze, gold and intent, is now on me. I have his entire attention and I'm not sure I can handle it.

*

He nods at Melaine the blonde, a hand snaking out to grip my elbow.

Firm, not painful.

"I'll find out what his young lady wants."

And before I know it, he's propelling me out of the room.

Just as I stumble away, I notice a door at the end of a corridor.

A door with the legend,

FINN ST JUST written in gold.

But the man who is leading me, strides away from it, into the bowels of the building, away from the buzz of the front office, deeper inside...

***

My father, the good man that he had been had made quite a number of mistakes in his short life.

Indulging my beautiful stepmother, who flitted from one gathering to another in our small community was the least of his crimes. He adored Heather and he would have done anything to keep her happy. Expensive clothes, the latest footwear, handbags and perfumes; Heather just had to turn her puppy eyes on him and my Dad would rush to buy the shop for her!

And when the twins were born, he loved us all, equally.

*

I liked to think that I was his special favorite.

I had inherited my mother's colouring and figure and I knew that when he looked at me, he saw her, the Spanish beauty she had been, with her curvaceous figure and her tempestuous deep brown hair, the ringing laugh, the dimples and the wide mouth. I was not beautiful like my Mama, Sophia Cruz had been, but I looked like her at times.

"My wise little Bianca, ' he would smile, his brown eyes shining with love as he ruffled my brown curls that were untamable.

And I would lean into him, my arms around him, safe and secure in his plump arms.

&

Heather loved us all in her absent, flighty way. So it fell on me to take care of the twins when she was going from one village event to the other, one hen party to another.

&

But as I grew older, I realized that something was wrong.

Dad was growing more stressed. He would snap at us, and ignore Heather when she asked for a new dress or new accessories; the twins and I went to school in our old shoes and satchels, feeling a little like church mice. But it was also the state of the bakery that bothered me. I was sixteen and I could see that the place was becoming more run down with each day.

&

Perhaps that was why it was no surprise when I came home one day from school and found Dad in the large kitchen behind the bakery, speaking in hushed, worried tones to his assistant, a sensible grandmother of four named Alice, talking about the debts he had run up.

Alice helped with the baking and my Dad ran a tight ship, with just the two of them and a young man who came in the afternoons to help with the heavy stuff.

As I stepped in, Dad was speaking in a low voice,

'...don't know how to ...debts...realtors..."

He clammed up the moment he saw me in the doorway and refused to let me in on what he was discussing. I also knew, with a sinking heart, that he would never share his problems with Heather.

She would probably have hysterics, I thought wryly.

*