Olivia looked into the eyes of her father intently, a mixture of excitement and apprehension silencing her tongue. She'd had no hesitation in going with him when he'd appeared in front of her at the airport and told her who he was; after all, this man was her father, of course she was going with him. The questions that should have been asked were delayed through a combination of shock and the urgency to get out of the airport quickly and quietly.

It was only later when they were safely ensconced in the back seat of the taxi that was speeding them away from her family that she began to wonder. He was meant to be dead; how was he alive and, even more importantly to her, why had he pretended not to know her on their first meeting. Because she had recognised him immediately; her father was the Scottish man who had sat next to her on the park bench as she had waited for her friend Kemi.

But her questions remained unasked as they transferred from the taxi to a private car and during the long drive through the English countryside to their final destination.

Throughout it all, he had been anxious about her comfort. He constantly asked if she needed anything, if she was happy, if she wanted to go back, and his first question when they had reached their destination was to ask if she was hungry, not being satisfied until she allowed him to order food for her. He watched her as she ate and afterwards began to ask her questions about her life, her home in LA, her mother, her friends, her hobbies, her likes and dislikes, always keeping the tone of the conversation light-hearted. Olivia answered his questions honestly, she saw no reason to hold anything back from him.

And now here they were, apparently with the blessing of her mum, free to get to know each other. But suddenly Olivia did not know what to say; she was unable to form the words, to construct the questions – so many questions – that she had for this man, at once a stranger, yet somehow a part of her. So she asked the only question she could think of.

"What do you want to do now?"

"We could just talk…" Tony suggested, "if that's alright with you?"

"About what?"

"Anything you like."

"Okay ," Olivia mused for a moment on what she wanted to talk about. "Tell me about you and mum. What made you fall in love with her?"

"That's a big question," Tony answered with a smile, thinking back to that time, over a decade ago, when he and Carla first became romantically involved. "You can't truly understand if you weren't there. Carla was… she was everything a man could ever want. So beautiful… she took my breath away. And she was smart, and determined; the way she took over that business after Paul died… she was born to lead. And us together? We were a formidable team, we could've conquered the world if only we'd stuck together. We had the perfect life, we had everything: money, power, health, beauty, a future most people could only dream of. We had it, we had it all."

"I don't get it," Olivia spoke her doubts.

"What don't you get?"

"I asked what was it about mum that made you fall in love with her."

"I…" Tony didn't know how to respond; for the first time he was at a loss for words.

"I don't mean what she looked like, or what kind of businesswoman she was, I mean… you know, her personality, her… what was inside. You know?"

"She…" Tony thought intently for a moment, "she had this fire inside her and it would light her up; it could be this bright spark of wit out of nowhere, the passionate flame of… or the intense fire she got when negotiating a contract, dealing with people just as ruthless as her, more so, and then…" Tony smiled again as he was lost in his memories, "quite often that fire, it was directed at me. I don't mean it in a bad way, mind you, I mean… butting heads, fighting, arguing, squaring up to a worthy opponent, it's… exhilarating. It's not always a bad thing to fight when you're both on the same page."

"You liked that she would argue with you?"

"I liked – no, I loved – that she was passionate. And strong, and willing to fight for what she wanted, til the bitter end, even if it destroyed everyone around her. The thing about your mother… she doesn't like to lose."

"Lose… what? An argument?"

"Liam. She didn't want to lose Liam. She wanted to be the winner. She wanted to win over Maria."

"Like you wanted to win over Liam?"

"Yes," Tony confessed without hesitation. "I couldn't stand the thought of them together. But it was more than that. It was Carla. It was like I wasn't in control when it came to Carla. I wanted her, I needed her so badly, I couldn't cope when that – that life I had planned for Carla and I was threatened. There was no life without Carla."

"You killed a man so you wouldn't lose? I don't understand how you could do that."

"I fell in love," Tony explained the simplicity of his downfall. "I was so deeply in love with Carla. You don't know what kind of power a woman like that has over men. Over me. That love, it changed me, it took away any rational thought I had, any rational reasoning. The only power I had left was to do anything, everything, I could to keep her. I almost went out of my mind at the thought of losing her. And yes, I did some bad things, I was a bad bad man. I know that. I wish I hadn't been that man, but you have to believe me, I'm not that man anymore. Out of all those terrible things I did, my first, and fatal, crime was to fall in love."

"That's not an excuse."

"I know," Tony nodded, "and I know I'll probably go back to prison for it. The rest of my life locked up in a tiny cell, without hope, without love. But it will be worth it – all of it – because I got to know you, to spend some time with you. That's enough for me."

Olivia was silent in the face of her father's confessions; she could not wrap her head around a love so strong yet so destructive.

"Come with me," Tony declared, his face suddenly lit up with a new idea, "I want to show you something."

Curious as to what new thing her father had decided to reveal to her, Olivia dutifully followed him out of the room they were in, down the stairs and out of the building, and through gardens that at first were neatly manicured and maintained before they became overgrown, a wilderness of towering trees, creeping vines, and swathes of delicate wildflowers, all cut through by a winding dirt path.

At the end of the path, Tony led her through a natural stone archway into a cool, dark space, a world away from the bright sunshine outside.

"What is this place?" Olivia asked as she peered around, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light.

"It's a cave," he explained, "it's quite safe, if you stay away from the edge there."

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked, glancing nervously at the sheer drop mere steps away from where they stood.

"I brought Liam here once. He was terrified, he thought I was going to push him over the edge."

"Were you?"

"No. But he was right, I was planning his death. It was here, in this very place, I decided that he had to die. That it was the only way."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I want you to know everything," he said, taking hold of her hands and looking into her eyes, "before the end."