Deadly secrets, p.1

Deadly Secrets, page 1

 

Deadly Secrets
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Deadly Secrets


  Copyright © 2024 by A.M. Acosta

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, without written permission from the author. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters, and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or localities are entirely coincidental.

  A.M. Acosta is not responsible for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

  All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks, and registered trademarks of their respective owners.

  The author and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

  Line and Copy Editor: Jenny Sims

  Cover Designer: Jani Mapatuna

  ISBN (PRINT) 978-84-09-61579-7

  ISBN (EPUB) 978-84-09-61593-3

  1st Edition 2024

  To my strong, independent readers who don’t like being told what to do, but also love being manhandled and fucked hard against the wall. Don’t let anyone convince you that you cannot be both.

  TRIGGER WARNINGS

  Deadly Secrets isn’t entirely dark but has mildly dark elements.

  Your mental health is important to me, but it should be more important to you. A list of potentially triggering themes can be found below. Please read responsibly.

  Should you have any inquiries regarding this list, please get in touch with me at amacostaauthor.com or via any of my social media accounts. I primarily use TikTok and Threads, but you can also connect with me on Facebook and Instagram.

  Attempted murder

  Child sexual assault (mentioned but not depicted)

  Death and grief

  Hospitalization

  Kidnapping

  Mild torture

  Murder

  Offensive language

  Poisoning

  Sexually explicit scenes

  Stalking

  Suicide (mentioned but not depicted)

  Underage drinking

  “All I Want for Christmas Is You” by Mariah Carey

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  TRIGGER WARNINGS

  PLAYLIST

  Chapter 1. EIVISSA VIBES (Sienna)

  Chapter 2. THE BASEMENT (Sienna)

  Chapter 3. TURNING POINT (Sienna)

  Chapter 4. A BETTER PLACE (Sienna)

  Chapter 5. SEX AND THE CITY (Sienna)

  Chapter 6. THE WILL (Sienna)

  Chapter 7. A GHOST FROM THE PAST (Sienna)

  Chapter 8. THE NOTEBOOK (Ander)

  Chapter 9. A BIRTHDAY INVITATION (Sienna)

  Chapter 10. THE CAVE (Sienna)

  Chapter 11. STAY THE FUCK AWAY (Noah)

  Chapter 12. THE BREAK-IN (Sienna)

  Chapter 13. DEVIL’S NIGHT (Sienna)

  Chapter 14. MISSING LETTERS (Sienna)

  Chapter 15. THE UGLY TRUTH (Ander)

  Chapter 16. THIRD TIME ISN’T A CHARM (Sienna)

  Chapter 17. DON’T HOLD BACK (Sienna)

  Chapter 18. HARD FEELINGS (Noah)

  Chapter 19. SPILLING THE TEA (Zayn)

  Chapter 20. AN OLIVE BRANCH (Ander)

  Chapter 21. A NEW ROOMMATE (Sienna)

  Chapter 22. THE ATTACK (Sienna)

  Chapter 23. CONFESSION TIME (Ander)

  Chapter 24. IT WAS A MAT-TER OF TIME (Sienna)

  Chapter 25. CONFIDENTIAL (Ander)

  Chapter 26. THE PACT (Zayn)

  Chapter 27. TOO MANY SECRETS (Sienna)

  Chapter 28. BE GRATEFUL (Sienna)

  Chapter 29. THE POSITION IS YOURS (Sienna)

  Chapter 30. HOE HOE HOE! MERRY CHRISTMAS (Sienna)

  Chapter 31. WHAT DO YOU MEAN? (Sienna)

  Chapter 32. CHRISTMATHON (Sienna)

  Chapter 33. LIKE YOU MEAN IT (Ander)

  Chapter 34. I NEED YOU (Sienna)

  Chapter 35. A DRAMATIC TURN OF EVENTS (Sienna)

  Chapter 36. THE CABIN (Noah)

  Chapter 37. ENOUGH WITH THE WORDS (Sienna)

  Chapter 38. 091499 (Sienna)

  Chapter 39. THE USB (Sienna)

  Chapter 40. SO MUCH BLOOD (Ander)

  Chapter 41. DON’T CALL ME LIZZIE (Elizabeth)

  Chapter 42. TARANTINO WOULD BE PROUD (Sienna)

  Chapter 43. WE ARE GOING HOME (Sienna)

  EPILOGUE - NEW BEGINNINGS (Sienna)

  AUTHOR NOTE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  PLAYLIST

  Hoobastank—The Reason

  John Legend—All of Me

  Red Hot Chili Peppers—Under the Bridge

  The Ink Spots, Ella Fitzgerald—Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall

  Charli XCX, Rina Sawayama—Beg for You

  Billie Eilish, ROSALÍA—Lo Vas A Olvidar

  Billie Eilish—when the party’s over

  Charlie Puth, Selena Gomez—We Don’t Talk Anymore

  The Weeknd, Kendrick Lamar—Pray For Me

  Mariah Carey—All I Want for Christmas Is You

  Melrose Avenue—Suffering

  Lewis Capaldi—Before You Go

  Annie Lennox—I Put A Spell On You

  Billie Eilish—Billie Bossa Nova

  Zara Larsson—Ain’t My Fault

  Muse—Stockholm Syndrome

  Korn—Take Me

  Fall Out Boy—Dance, Dance

  Thirty Seconds To Mars—The Kill

  Chapter 1. EIVISSA VIBES

  (Sienna)

  I’m never drinking again.

  That was all my brain could think as I emptied my stomach contents inside the toilet, and by contents, I meant the little booze that my system refused to process from last night. I couldn’t even keep track of how many times I’d told myself the same thing over the past three weeks since Sarah and I landed in Ibiza, but my promises had gone out the window every night I stepped foot inside Pacha.

  We’d been planning this vacation since we began our final year at Rubin American Boarding School in Switzerland, and I was certainly testing my limits when it came to partying hard. Every day on the island felt like Groundhog Day. We’d kick-start the day by having breakfast in our villa, then chill at a different cala—those hidden beaches with crystal-clear waters that screamed Spanish paradise. When the sun dipped below the horizon, it was time to hit the club, and I’d be ready to hunt for my next prey. This usually meant searching for a cute Spanish guy to sweep me off my feet and help me forget the nightmare waiting for me back home.

  Today was our last day on vacation. Sarah would return to England, and I would have to return to New York and face my parents.

  When I stepped outside the bathroom, the sunlight blinded me momentarily as I tried to take in my surroundings. My head pounded, and I reeked of vodka.

  Collapsing onto the bed, I grabbed my phone from the bedside table and saw it was ten o’clock. I’d barely managed to get three hours of sleep, and the loud snores from my right made my headache even worse.

  I tried remembering what had happened the night before, but the last thing I could recall was drinking tequila shots with Pedro—or was his name Pablo?—and having one of the most disappointing fucks of my life. He wouldn’t have found my clit even if I drew him a map, so I guessed I had put as much energy into remembering his name as he did in making me orgasm.

  I gave Pedro—well, let’s call him Pedro—a nudge in an attempt to wake him up.

  “You need to leave.” He groaned but continued sleeping, so I kicked him until he opened his eyes.

  “What?” He sounded disoriented.

  I was being a bitch, but I didn’t care. I’d asked him to leave, but at some point, after our unremarkable night, I dozed off, and he’d stuck around.

  “I said that you need to leave.”

  “Are you always this friendly with your lovers?”

  A lover? Please, last night could almost qualify as PG-13.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose with my fingers to bring some relief. “I have a flight in five hours, and Sarah and I need to check out in two, so please grab your things and go.” My mood was souring by the minute. I would be home in less than twenty-four hours, something I wasn’t looking forward to.

  Mumbling something in Spanish that I couldn’t quite make out, Pedro quickly dressed, collected his belongings, and headed for the bedroom door. Just before reaching for the doorknob, he paused and turned around.

  “Can I have your number?” he asked.

  “What for?” I deadpanned. “I live in the US. I don’t see the point.”

  “Joder cómo se ha levantado la americana...Well, nice meeting you, Sienna. It was fun.”

  I didn’t respond. While he might have had a great night, mine had been anything but below average.

  As soon as he left, I wasted no time and made a beeline for the shower. I had less than two hours to pack my things and have breakfast, and given my current condition, it felt like insufficient time.

  * * *

  I dragged my feet downstairs until I reached the back garden, where Sarah enjoyed breakfast. We’d secur ed a stunning Mediterranean villa with breathtaking sea views overlooking the pebbly beach at Platja des Codolar. Even after three weeks, the sight continued to leave me breathless.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” she exclaimed cheerfully. Sarah was in a good mood, which made me suspect that her night had likely been more enjoyable than mine. I wanted so badly to smack that smile off her face…

  “Hey,” I grunted in response to her happy-go-lucky attitude. Sarah laughed while she poured me a cup of coffee. I sat beside her and arranged some toasted bread on my plate. After drizzling some extra virgin olive oil over it, I added a couple of slices of jamón serrano.

  God, I love Spanish breakfasts.

  “I spotted Pablo heading out about half an hour ago.” So he was Pablo, not Pedro. Oops. My bad. “He seemed a little upset. What did you say to the poor guy?”

  “The poor guy? Worst fuck of my life, good riddance.”

  I was being unreasonable, but Sarah knew me well enough to realize that Pablo wasn’t the issue. I’d been avoiding any conversation related to my summer internship at Cos Pharmaceuticals, the company my dad started five years before I was born. “Shall we grab something to eat on our way to the airport?”

  “C’mon, Sienna. Stop deflecting. Tell me what’s going on.” Sarah sighed. “You’ve been a bit off the entire trip. You’ve always been a wild card, but you’ve never been this careless or insensitive. Have you talked to your parents yet?” Sarah was right, and as much as I was inclined to continue skirting around the topic, my friend happened to be the most determined person on the planet, so I knew she wouldn’t let it slide.

  “There’s nothing to tell. I’m supposed to start my internship in three weeks and go to college in September.”

  “You don’t sound excited.” She took a sip of her coffee.

  “I’m excited about college, but definitely not the internship.” The prospect of working for my father was far from appealing. Our relationship had deteriorated beyond repair when he decided to ship me off to Switzerland at age twelve. The last thing I wanted was to spend more time than necessary with him before I left for Stanford. Don’t get me wrong, I was genuinely grateful for meeting Sarah. Without her, my time in Rubin would have been a nightmare. “I’d rather drink piss, but it was a condition he imposed if I wanted him to cover my college tuition and expenses. If enduring a month of working with him means he won’t cancel my AmEx Platinum, then I’m willing to make that sacrifice.”

  “You sound like a brat.” Sarah chuckled.

  “You know I am.” I gently nudged her with my elbow. “My mom has been calling me nonstop, trying to convince me to go on vacation with them, but I can’t be bothered. I’d rather spend that time home alone.”

  “Are you sure?” she pressed.

  “Yes. If I must choose between preparing pellets to feed the lab rats or spending some quality time with them in Cabo, I’ll choose labor over hammocks. It’s the least painful option.” Sarah knew how I felt about returning home every summer. She could count with her two hands the number of times I had traveled back to New York in the past six years or how many times I had faked not being disappointed when my mother had called me saying they couldn’t visit because of my father’s demanding work schedule. His company had always been his priority, and as much as I didn’t want it to affect me, it did.

  “Miles texted me,” Sarah added.

  Miles and I dated for six months until I broke up with him a month ago. I could lie and say it was because I was going back to the US while he was heading to Australia, but the truth was that I’d grown tired of his stupid ass.

  “What does he want now?”

  “He said you’re not answering his texts.”

  “Maybe Miles should take the hint and stop messaging me.” I’d been avoiding his texts for the past two weeks. He insisted on us staying friends and that he would come and visit me as soon as he could…

  I hope he doesn’t show up in California because he won’t like the sound of my door hitting his tanned Aussie face.

  We stayed silent for a few more minutes as we finished our breakfast, savoring our last moments of peace under the Spanish sun. An hour later, we were both packed and waiting for our local taxi driver to arrive.

  Sarah would fly to London via Madrid, where we would say our goodbyes before I boarded my connecting flight to New York.

  * * *

  After an uneventful flight and several champagne glasses, I arrived at JFK International Airport eight hours later. As soon as the arrivals doors swung open, I immediately spotted my mom holding a bouquet. I took a deep breath and summoned my warmest smile as I approached her.

  “My dear Sienna! I’ve missed you so much.” She squeezed me tightly as tears streamed down her face. Marie Moore stood at just five-three, but her strength more than made up for her petite stature. Her light brown hair was shorter than I remembered.

  “You’ve cut your hair!” I beamed.

  “Yeah, do you think it suits me? Your father insists it makes me look younger,” she remarked. Fortunately, I’d inherited my mom’s features—her cute nose, full lips, and sun-kissed complexion. With her short hair, she could easily pass for my older sister.

  “You look fantastic. Speaking of the devil, where’s Dad?” She anxiously nibbled on her lower lip before replying to my question, yet even before she uttered a word, I could already anticipate the answer.

  “I know he promised he would come too, but you know your father. Something urgent came up. He wanted me to tell you how sorry he is.” Her voice carried a tone of disappointment, but we both understood that disappointment was a recurring theme for Edward Moore. “Let’s go home. I’m eager to hear all about your trip to Ibiza.”

  Chapter 2. THE BASEMENT

  (Sienna)

  I only had three weeks of freedom left before starting my internship at Cos Pharma, so I decided to make the most of it and have fun exploring what the city had to offer.

  A few days after I got home, I texted Caroline. We hadn’t been particularly close friends, but she knew how to have a good time, and I needed that precise diversion to avoid being under my parents’ scrutiny at home. Our paths crossed three years ago during one of my summer visits. Caroline was employed as a bartender at Port Chester Country Club and had connections to all the trendiest clubs and bars in the city. We hit it off right away, but our friendship never fully blossomed since our time together was restricted to just five weeks each year. We didn’t share many common interests either, except for our mutual love for parties and alcohol.

  Caroline

  We’ll pick you up at 7. Wear jeans, nothing fancy.

  And put something on that shows skin. I want to introduce you to a friend *wink emoji*

  Me

  I don’t date, but if he’s hot, I might make an exception…

  Caroline

  I’ve shown him a picture of you.

  Believe me when I say he has other plans for you that are not dating *taco emoji* *eggplant emoji*

  Her last text made me chuckle. She was nothing like the people I’d met during my time at boarding school. Rubin American Boarding School was full of arrogant, entitled pricks who believed they were superior to everyone else. Half of them hailed from European royal families, while the other half were either offspring of political figures or rock stars. Sarah was, in fact, the only normal person. Her father, Tim Afolami, was the CEO of a very successful water treatment company in the UK, and she intended to follow in his footsteps by pursuing a degree in chemical engineering and biotechnology at the University of Cambridge. Money, beauty, and brains—a killer combination.

  After spending what might have been an overly long time in the shower, I moisturized my body with vanilla-scented body milk and blow-dried my hair until it had a naturally styled look. Everyone knew that when Caroline said “casual,” she meant we were headed to an underground bar where all you could smell was whiskey, sweat, and tobacco, so I made sure I looked good without overdoing it. I wore my favorite pair of jeans and a red tank showcasing my curves and finished the look with black military boots and red lipstick.

  I headed downstairs to the living room, where my parents were having dinner. About an hour ago, my mom knocked on my door and asked me if I wanted to join them, but whenever it was just the three of us, I felt super awkward. During the infrequent moments we shared together, my father often stressed my obligations as part of the Moore family and emphasized the importance of how I portrayed myself to the world. I politely declined the invitation, which clearly displeased her. Judging by the expression on my father’s face, he wasn’t thrilled either.

 

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