CHAPTER THREE: THE FLASHBACK

Time stopped for Ana when she heard the devastating news coming so bluntly from the man in front of her.

For a little while, even for a transient moment, she’d felt genuine happiness at Kevin’s party. She had even managed to stop the flow of memories from flooding her with grief, having put Devin’s Crighton re-appearance in her life as an unfortunate coincidence. It had all been possible because of the wonderful time she’d been spending with Kevin who’d been so sure she would skip because of her hectic schedule. But she would never be too busy for him. For them. She loved them unconditionally and limitlessly.

The orphanage kids. Over such a short span of time, they had become such an integral part of her life that now she could hardly imagine her future without them. Especially when she brought such joy to them, not only for monetary purposes, but with her presence and love. When life had knocked her out with sadistic perversion, she had used them as anchor to rebuild her shattered world around them.

Now, as she stood transfixed staring at her worst nightmare, she rued the fact that life could be so unfair that he could still make her feel. She’d definitely not envisaged a cold greeting coming from nowhere which had given her the scare of her life. When she recovered from the initial shock, an amalgam of emotion assuaged her, a mixture of pain, remorse and anger. Not knowing the protocol in such a situation, she took in greedily his face, even if it was an effort trying to make out his features in the dark. Curiosity won as she deliberately tamped down all the other feelings to wonder what the enigmatic Devin Crighton could be doing at her doorstep at such an ungodly hour.

Puzzled to find not an ounce of remorse on his harsh face, Ana desperately searched for any sign of emotion other than that relentless derision. Anything aside the fact that he was ridiculing her like he’d always done and found none. It fueled her wrath, as she hailed her cloak of protection, wearing her famous ice princess façade, knowing that her eyes glazed over with blue frost. He would not know that her heart was beating out of rhythm against her chest, that her hands were shaking or that her throat felt as dry as sand wood. Even if the task killed her. It was his time to squirm.

After all, he’d been the bastard who’d left her stranded at the altar where she’d stood waiting for him in her wedding dress, facing the ridicule of the whole world as he’d ditched her without a single word of explanation. Devin had never been interested in her, his main target had been her wealthy father, and she’d been so blindly in love that she hadn’t seen it coming. It had taken her weeks of hindsight after having faced a multitude of wordless dismissals to finally accept the truth.

During the duration of their relationship, she’d been living a complete bliss imagining him madly in love with her, not even suspecting that he’d been playing her for a fool. And played he had. For her, he’d been the only guy who had had enough sense to look past her outer beauty to pay her singular attention. He’d been her hero, the special one who’d chosen her without hesitation when she’d spent her whole life being overshadowed by the overpowering Melissa.

She so hadn’t expected him to break her heart in such a ruthless manner. To break her every dream and hope, until she’d felt herself disintegrate to pieces to never become whole again. In the profound depth of her heart, she admitted to herself that she’d still been expecting an apology, the confession that he was the guilty party, even if an outstanding redemption was not in order.

However, his abrupt announcement was uncalled for, knocking the remaining breath out of her body so that she stood lifeless, her only sustenance was years of training in the modeling industry. So that was why he’d calculatingly landed on her doorstep at the middle of the night, looking like his complacent self. He could not wait to deliver what he would consider the fatal blow. It made kind of warped sense for him if one believed in masochism. He was here to watch her grieve her beloved father, to extract revenge from a man he hated via his innocent daughter, only to soothe his huge ego.  

But Devin was in for a brutal surprise, Ana had no affection whatsoever for her father, not after her only living parent had treated atrociously. She probably loathed the man with as much vehemence as his ex-fiancé did, not that the latter would have the mildest inkling about it. Being an extremely private person, even when they’d been engaged, she’d shared very few details about her family with him, and he’d never probed - something she’d found accommodating then. Now, she knew better – it was simply because he’d never even cared.

As she watched Devin looking at her expectantly waiting for her to break down, she scoffed at him with defiance. “Is he now?” she questioned in a voice devoid of emotion.

In response, Devin let out another dry laughter, light brown eyes shining with green freckles as they assessed her all over again, with less impertinence though. “I must admit; you have certainly changed for the better. You’re nothing like the meek and love-struck Anastasia I’ve known, or had it all been an illusion?”

Anger so crude coursed through her filling her every pore that she had to struggle with herself not to retaliate with a physical blow. How she longed to land her fist against his nose, if only it were to dislodge the permanent disdain in the slight uplift of his lips. It would be futile giving in to her impulse though. First of all, she was too petite to cause him any deadly harm, and second it was precisely what he intended. Goad her to her limit, only to dismantle her from her cool exterior, to gauge whether he still affected her. And she absolutely refused to give him that satisfaction.

“I guess you’d never know,” she spat derisively, and turned her head sideways to study him with pure impertinence. “Sooo, tell me. You’ve driven all the way to New York just to personally give me the good news? I’m touched, Devin, Really,” she commented with enough sarcasm in her voice to let him know that she was having fun at his expense.

Narrowing his gaze at her, she was thrilled to notice green freckles filling the hazel background. It was barely visible, especially in the dark, and had she not been on the lookout for that particular sign, she might have completely missed it. It was the indication that he was not as immune as he was letting on, his eyes took a green hue whenever he became over-emotional. Almost like magic.

“Are you attending the ceremony?” he inquired with a carefree shrug.

Frowning, she repeated his question in her mind with cool detachment. Alastair Forrester had been a creep, but he was her father after all. Besides, as her evil stepmother Melanie was no longer alive as well, there would no pointless family drama – now hers had been a funeral she’d definitely skipped some years ago.

She mimicked his movement. “Sure.”

“Fly with me,” he ordered briskly, and her eyes flew to him in undisguised surprise. What was he playing at this time? Had he lost an enormous amount of money like the other victims and wanted his pound of flesh from her? After all, he’d agreed to marry her for a business deal, so there was denying the length he was willing to go to extort his payback.

Ana was determined not to play the rat to his Hamelin this time. “Why the hell would I do that?” she asked, not bothering to hide her genuine surprise.

He gave another nonchalant shrug. “It’s easier. I have a private jet which can reach us much before the ceremony begins tomorrow. By the look of it…,” he checked his Rolex with one glance. “…if you go on your own, you won’t make it in time.”

Devin was worried about her missing her father’s funeral? Now that was a complete shocker. That man did not have a benevolent bone in his body, and Ana had neither the time nor the energy to decipher his hidden agenda. With a wave of dismissal in his direction, she muttered “No, thank you. I can take care of myself,” and marched past him to open her door, her mind still reeling from shock of both his re-appearance and her father’s demise.

Fumbling through her purse, she fought unshed tears, waiting to be inside her condo before she gave way to any kind of emotion whatsoever. Why had that cursed man return back in her life? Turning back to check whether he’d already taken off, she was caught off-guard to find herself staring close-up into familiar dark green eyes, the intensity of emotions she could read there making her still.

Desire. For her. Whatever game Devin had been playing in the past, the only genuine feeling he’d felt for her had been passion, there was no faking that. At the first meeting, it had flared between them like liquid fire, raging their senses out of control, rendering them helpless to fight the fatal attraction between them. It had been her only major mistake: to be unable to distinguish between pure unadulterated lust and true love.

“Ana,” he whispered shakily, her name out of his mouth blowing a hot air on her right ear, his unique masculine scent penetrating her nostrils like someone was casting a spell. Out of its own volition, she found her body sway in his direction, and she stopped herself at the last second, clearing her desire-fogged mind with self-loathing. What the hell was wrong with her?

Was she completely demented to act on that sexual tension a second time, knowing how terrible a person he was? Would she ever learn her lesson where that man was concerned? She’d always been a sucker for Devin Richard Crighton, even if he’d walked over her heart with disregard. This was the man who’d left her at the altar without a single word of enlightenment for Heaven’s sake.

That reminder acted as a wake-up call, and she flinched in reaction, angry with herself for having lost control of her feelings even if it were for a mere second. Scalded, she took a few steps back, realizing in horror that his lips were hovering just a few inches above hers.

“I am so over you Devin Richard Crighton,” she announced firmly, as much for her own benefit as his.

He smiled cynically. “Don’t fool yourself Anastasia. We both know that we’re still attracted to each other. You still want me as much as I want you.”

She sucked in a breath at his forthrightness, her mind wanting to block the truth no matter how accurate it was. It was pointless denying it though; he could read her like a book, he was so sharp-witted that he was an expert in picking up vibes about other people.

“Yes,” she admitted in a dead-pan voice, chin lifted to challenge him back with his words. “I guess it’ll take a lifetime to cure us from that kind of curse.”

As an exit line, it worked wonders. He recoiled from her in shock, giving her enough space and time to whirl back and disappeared inside her apartment. It was only after checking twice that the lock was firmly in place that she gave her weakened body the reprieve to lean against the door and permitting the reactions to kick in.

It took her several minutes to tame her emotions enough to conduct a phone call to the only person she knew back in Rochester. Uncle Jeremy, an old family friend and her father’s lawyer confirmed the death of Alastair Forrester that morning. The irony of it was that it was Devin who had announced her the news of her father’s demise, and not someone from her family. Not that she was close to anyone, but her stepsister could have made an effort.

A glance at the clock indicated that it was eleven pm and that she had to leave right now if she wanted to make it on time for the funeral. It was a long six hours’ drive and by the look of it, she was not going to sleep a wink.

Sighing wearily, her lump body wallowed to slouch on the edge of the bed, resting her head in her hands, and finally tolerated the truth to hit her hard. Her father was dead, even if she’d no close affiliation with the latter, he’d been her only living parent and now she was an orphan. Whatever she’d felt for him or no matter how vile he’d proven to be, he was still her father and she felt a ping of sadness that he was no longer among the living.

What grieved her was the fact that nobody from home had bothered to inform her of the news, not that she blamed them for she had vanished five years ago without a word or an address. Her disappearance hadn’t meant anything to anyone, she was good riddance then, she was still insignificant now. At least, she knew where she stood.

As clichéd as it was, hers was a typical Cinderella story: a wicked stepsister with an even more devilish stepmother. Not that she’d known the stakes then. No, gullible fool that she had been, she’d been too indebted for having a roof under her head, a family whom she’d believed had accepted her in their household. No matter how despicable their behavior towards her, she’d always been grateful to Melanie for having accepted her husband’s bastard without protest. At least, Ana had thought then that she’d been spared an orphanage life, had even contemplated it was magnanimous of Melanie. All that had mattered was that she had a father, a mother and a sister.

Until she’d learned the horrible truth.

Decadent rage filled Ana again at the injustice of life. For twenty years of her pathetic life, Ana had endured spiteful treatments from them, believing that they must have loved her in their own twisted way, only to discover that they had used her for their personal benefit. She’d never questioned the partiality her father had shown to Melissa, the obvious favoritism that the man had harbored for his youngest daughter.

That level of doting had inexorably given birth to a selfish spoilt daughter in the form of her sister, having her every whim being satisfied at the merest request. Always in the spotlight, always the center of attention to every party, every event, Melissa had overshadowed her on every occasion. Consequently, Ana had ended up stepping down every time, consenting for her unbearable sister the main role while she’d remained in the shadows.

The only time when she’d been able to be herself was when she’d encountered Devin. A single tear escaped as she acknowledged that her supposedly love story had ended in disaster too, without the help of her sister. It had been the only time in her life that she had believed the life had been restoring back what it owed her. What a fool she’d been.

Closing her eyes, she leaned against the pillow as the memory of their first meeting replayed in her head, like it had done so many times for the past years.

With the mindset that she was out to conquer her destiny, she’d set out for a few days of holidays in Milan where she could unwind and discover herself. That fatal attraction between them had brewed until she’d decided to take matters in her own hands, and see what life had in reserve for her.

With introspection, she realized she had been playing a role, she had the freedom of being whoever she wanted and no longer Melissa Forrester’s mousy sister. Without the usual judiciousness she usually showed, she’d smiled at him in blatant invitation, all barriers down for once in her life. Unaware of his own sordid plans, she’d opened up to him without restraint.

Trying to calm the flutter of butterflies in her stomach, she’d lifted her empty glass in his direction, a subtle request for him to buy her a drink which he’d obliged. “Buongiorno,” she’d greeted, trying to look at him with confidence like she picked up strange guys from bars every day. At a loss of what to say further, she’d taken a nervous sip from her drink and watched him over the rim of her glass, her heart leaping in her throat as she waited for his reaction.

Thankfully, instead of rebuking her, he leaned against the bar at her side, and cocked his head sideways to study her. It required a huge effort not to squirm under his inspection, but she managed to freeze herself without blinking an eye. “Buongiorno,” he finally uttered back with a poise she found appealing. “Are you a tourist?” he queried politely in English.

“Yes,” she revealed over-eagerly at the language choice. “I come from Rochester and this is my first trip to Italy.” This is my first trip outside the US, she wanted to say but bit her lips to refrain from that gaffe at the last minute; it would seem so artless. She could actually hear her sister berating her in her head with her usual vindictiveness.

“I’m from the States too,” he’d informed with a metropolitan accent.

“You’re American?” she asked nonplussed by the sheer coincidence. What were the odds of finding a compatriot in Milan?

“A Yankee born and bred,” he replied, nodding brusquely towards her like he’d just conducted an important deal. “What about you?”

Ana gasped again. “That’s a weird coincidence. I never thought I would mean someone from my country here. Please don’t tell me you come from Rochester too?” she queried in mock disbelief. It would really feel weird to meet someone so close in such a fairway country. And yet never crossed paths in their own country.

“Manhattan. Have you ever been there?” he cocked his head sideways as the question left his mouth.

“No. I’ve always wanted to visit your borough,” I offered willingly, desperately trying to focus on the mundane conversation, and trying to ignore the way her heart was jackhammering against her chest.

“The City has many great attractions. Which ones do you like most?” he asked politely, signaling the waiter to refill her glass. She’d read somewhere that the inhabitants of Manhattan referred to the place as The City.

“The islands. I love the water. I have an apartment near Lake Ontario and the view is breath-taking,” Ana sighed heavily, omitting the fact that she was renting the apartment instead of owning it. According to the world, she was a privileged princess who didn’t have to lift a single finger. 

After the waiter poured his drink, he took a gulp slowly with languorous deliberateness, looking over at her with undisguised interest. “Hmm, right. The view is quite breath-taking,” he mumbled in a sexual undertone that was impossible to miss.

Was he flirting with her?

“What did you say your name was again?” she deliberately questioned although she was fully aware that he hadn’t introduced himself yet. The truth was that she was feeling somewhat disoriented by his come-hither gaze. What if she’d stumbled upon a serial killer? Or worst, a rapist?

“My name is Devin Crighton.”

Now, she was definitely impressed and completely out of her league. There was no one in NYC who had not heard of the name Crighton, herself having heard it several times at dinner table among her father and his business associates. “Crighton? You mean the Crighton?”

When he nodded, she took another cautious sip of her drink, more to have something useful to do with her hands, instead of fidgeting like a confused teenager. What had she been thinking? Hitting on a guy like him? He was probably used to more experienced women and gorgeous making a pass at him, and European holidays would be a trivial commodity for him.

“What about you? What’s your name?” he asked in a light casual voice.

Ana found herself hesitating. For the first time in her life she’d gotten a golden opportunity to finally be herself, she realized that she didn’t like who she was. She desperately wanted to be someone who would please the suave man in front of her, and she found herself willing to go to extreme lengths to fulfill that.

It had been downright frightening.

It wasn’t the first time she’d seen a handsome man. Melissa’s boyfriends were numerous, of varied origins, each even more polished and rich than the previous ones. The problem with Devin Crighton was that she fancied him too much for her own good. His face was a classical male version: harsh lines on his cheeks and jawline, his short hair carefully swept back from his forehead, his golden skin glowed in the sunshine, making her fingers itch to feel the texture under her fingers. The most conspicuous part of his face was his jaw, it protruded slightly with the faint stubble of the morning, giving him a rakish look. His most deadly weapon, though, was his eyes – there was a soft touch of non-dominant green on a golden-brown background. Hazel, just like her name.

With uninhibited inspiration, she moved in closer, her body forming a seductive arch in his direction. “I’m Hazel Forrester,” she introduced with a candidness she was not familiar with, thinking it must be the alcohol in her system doing the talking now.

He cocked an arrogant eyebrow at her in surprise, and for a moment she wondered if there was more to that enigmatic man than he was letting on. Then, his next question cleared away her doubt. “Forrester? As is the Forrester?””

She couldn’t help it – she burst out laughing at his sharp sense of humor. She deserved that witty comeback because her surname was as influential as his own, if not more. Then, she froze as she caught sight of the most amazing chef-d’oeuvre in her life. Green freckles splashed in the light brown background, the bright color oozing from every direction, making it seem like a canvas before painter initiated a masterpiece. Eventually, the green overwrote the brown, and his chameleon eyes transformed into a subtle mixture of both colors. She was bewitched, her breath suspended as she watched in complete enthrallment and she forgot to breathe.

His next question went unheard, and he had to wave in front of her face to break her enchantment. Blushing fiercely, as her sophisticated poise crumpled like a sandcastle, she blurted out. “I’m sorry. I... I... was watching your eyes; they’re marvelous.”

He frowned in bewilderment at her, seeming to mince her words, and she cursed herself for sounding so gauche in front of him. Would he lose interest in her? Would it matter if he did? “They’re not usually so obvious.”

Her cheeks felt even redder, had he discovered that she had been gawking at him like a brainless idiot? Clearing her throat, she tried again to cover her goof-up with class. “I think they’re wasted on a guy.”

He flashed a spontaneous grin at that misguided compliment, the smile transforming his face, softening every harsh line into something malleable, making him deadly handsome and her foolish heart leapt in reaction. “I’ll take that as a compliment, so thank you Miss Forrester,” he drawled sexily.

“Hazel, please.”

He lifted his glass in a teasing curtesy, and Ana felt an answering smile uplift her lips, completely unaware that he’d been mocking her at that time. “You should smile more often,” he inferred lightly, although there was no mistake of the hidden connotation behind his words.

He was definitely flirting. OMG!! Ana felt her heart pick up speed, pumping so loud against her chest that she was having difficulty hearing over the loud sound.

Millions of speculations tumbled inside her head. Was he interested? And if he were, would she be ready to take the next step? Although she was a novice in that department, she was not unaware of how things worked. From the tidbits she’d heard from her university classmates, she knew that holidays often led to one-night stands or transient flings.

Seeming to sense her hesitation, Devin finished his glass in one large gulp most probably dismissing her before moving on to his next prey. Considering his gorgeous looks and the amount of money in his bank account, he would have no difficulty in finding a willing woman tonight. Irrational fear gripped her, and she resisted clinging to him to keep him in place, to beg him to stay.

Why did she have to analyze everything to the last detail? Why wasn’t living in the moment enough for her? Like it was for everyone else?

“Are you flirting with me, Mr. Crighton?” she asked in an unhurried tone, when in truth she was a mess of shivering nerves inside. He seemed to do a double take at her candid question, knowing that it was a rhetoric question and that she was indirectly requesting him to stay.

“What do you think?” he responded back suggestively, and Ana felt her smile widen at his answering playfulness.

“I think,” she emphasized deliberately, pausing for more effect. “…that I’m playing with fire,” she admittedly coyly.

Her words seemed to douse the light in his eyes, he sobered drastically, his body rigid with sudden tension as he subjected her to yet another long assessing look, before carefully neutralizing his expression. Confusion filled her, as she searched for his face for any sign of the flirtatious man, but instead found a polite stranger. Suddenly, she got it. He wanted to get away from her, and courtesy was inhibiting him from doing so. Discomfited, she put down her glass of Mojito, returning his apathetic smile with an unresponsive one.

Dismounting from the stool bar, she barely looked in his direction while muttering. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around.”

Just as she was about to make a heroic exit, a hand grabbed her elbow, spinning her round to face him so close that she could smell his perfume. There was no trace of brown in his eyes now, the green had overwritten every nuance, making his gaze intense and powerful as he pinned her with a heated stare.

“Dinner tonight?” he muttered through clenched teeth, his nose nuzzling her cheeks, and she lost herself in the sensations he aroused in her. Electricity zinged through her whole body, as every pore screamed in heightened awareness, wanting to be closer to him.

Nodding almost automatically, she stood frozen when he released her as abruptly as he had seized her, leaving her standing alone rubbing the region around her heart, trying to soothe the erratic betas of her heart. Like she was doing now, as she opened her eyes jerkily, the memories assaulting her senses, causing her deep anguish and she finally let the tears flow without inhibition.