Page 7 of Deadly Secrets

“We’re leaving, darling. Our flight to Cabo is in about an hour. Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” My mom had pushed me daily to change my mind about going on vacation with them to no avail.

“No. I’m good. Caroline might come over tomorrow with some friends.” Mrs. Bishop would probably tell my parents anyway, so it was better to give them a heads-up.

“Is the boy I saw this morning leaving the house through the back door coming too? I thought I was clear last week about having boys over?”

My cheeks turned pink, and I opened and closed my mouth, unable to respond to him. I told Jake to be careful, but apparently, my father didn’t sleep or instructed the staff to keep an eye on me constantly. As expected, my father carried on lecturing me.

“You’ve shown a lack of respect toward your mother and me since you arrived. You choose to have your meals alone and avoid spending time with us. You stay in your room throughout the day until the evening, then disappear to who knows where. On top of that, your lack of decorum concerns me, as you keep bringing that tattooed boy into our home. The neighbors are already whispering things. Do you want to become the talk of the town? Things can’t continue down this path. You have responsibilities to fulfill.”

I sat there, paralyzed. The words had cut through the air like a sharp blade and hung heavy between us. It contrasted with the man I had known growing up, a father who had always been gentle and kind. My mind raced back to my childhood when my father and I were inseparable. We would go on long hikes, and he would even tell me bedtime stories he had made up on the spot. Those were the days when I felt truly loved and cherished by him. Not anymore. Everything changed when they sent me to Europe. It was a decision that took me by surprise, and I never understood why he did it, and he never offered a decent explanation. He became distant and emotionally detached, and it felt like he was pushing me away. The pain of abandonment had been overwhelming, and I often cried myself to sleep, wondering what I had done to deserve such treatment. Then Sarah and I became best friends. She was my rock.

As my father’s words hung in the air, I felt my anger building. I met his gaze and furiously replied, “I don’t give a flying fuck what the neighbors think. That tattooed boy has a name, Jake, and don’t you dare judge him just because of his tattoos.”

“Watch your mouth, Sienna,” he reprimanded. “We’re going to sit down and talk when we return from our vacation. We’ve already spent way too much time on this nonsense, and now we’re running late.

“Meanwhile, I’m going to freeze all your cards. It would be best if you understood that as long as you live under my roof, you will do what I say. Clear?”

I stood, causing the chair to screech loudly against the wooden floor. I moved so quickly that the chair toppled backward, colliding with the windowsill.

“You can’t just freeze my cards!”

“Oh, trust me, I’m more than capable, and I’m going to,” he snapped, shifting his posture toward my mother and gripping her by the elbow. As usual, my mom remained silent. No matter the situation, it always frustrated me how she consistently sided with him. I could never be sure if it was because she genuinely shared his views or if she simply avoided disagreeing with or opposing him. She never dared to contradict him, and this occasion was no exception.

“I hate you. I’m counting down the days until I can leave for California and put miles between us, away from this place and away from you. I’m fed up with all of this. You haven’t cared about me or how I felt for the past six years. You shipped me across the Atlantic without giving me an explanation, for fuck’s sake. And now, out of the blue, you want to be the doting parent, setting boundaries and expressing concern about my reputation?” I began to laugh, not because it was funny, but because the situation was ridiculous, and I was pissed. He never cared about me. Why now? Was it to prove a point? That he had control over me?

“I know I’ve given you plenty of reasons to be mad at me, but I can’t just stand by and watch you sabotage yourself.” He sighed. “You think I don’t love you, but I have my reasons for sending you to Switzerland. I just hoped you’d eventually forgive me for sending you to Europe after all this time. Holding that resentment will only poison your soul, Sienna. I hope one day you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.” Evidently, my words had deeply affected him, and a small part of me wished to take them back. But I was stubborn. I would never be the first to yield in an argument. “We must go. We’ll talk when we get back.”

As the front door shut behind them, I remained in the living room, still shaken by my father’s words.

I wish I’d said something, anything at all.

I should’ve told them I loved them even though I was still upset about them sending me away. They were my parents. Deep down, I knew everything they did was because they cared about me. I just wished they’d shown their affection by spending time with me, not by flashing their cash.

Life doesn’t come with a warning. You never know when it’s going to be the last time you’ll see someone you love.

And that was precisely what happened.

That was the last day I saw my parents alive.

Chapter 4. A BETTER PLACE

(Sienna)

Fuck my life.

Father Wakefield was saying something to me. I was pretty sure it was one of those transcendental phrases—you know, something like “they are in a better place” or my personal favorite, “one day you’ll meet them again.” People usually don’t know what to say at funerals, but honestly, I couldn’t care less about his words. Nothing he said would make the grief go away. I couldn’t even focus on his words. I was just lost.

I felt everything and nothing at the same time. It was like my body had shut down, unable to process everything that had happened since last Friday.

Jerry, my father’s personal assistant, showed up uninvited at eleven in the evening at Moore Manor. His face was pale, and his eyes were full of pain when Mrs. Bishop announced his arrival and welcomed him into the living room.

“I know it’s late, Sienna, but I must speak with you. May I sit?”

My curiosity transformed into concern at the exhausted look on his face. I pressed pause on the remote, put the popcorn down on the coffee table, and extended my hand, inviting Jerry to sit on the opposite couch from where I was sitting.

“Please, have a seat,” I said.

Despite how late it was, he still wore his suit, and looking at the dark circles under his eyes, I could tell he’d had a rough day. Jerry Payne would only come to the house when there was a pressing matter or my father would summon him, but my parents left today to spend a week in Cabo, so I had no idea why he came to the house. He’d been working for my dad since I was a child. Jerry sometimes came with us during vacation, and I liked to think of him as a detached uncle. He wouldn’t smile often, but his current facial expression had me on edge.

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