The Italian

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The Italian Page 34

by T L Swan


  “Do you want to come and see my bedroom Olivia?” Francesca asks softly.

  I look over at her in surprise, I forgot she was even here. “Yes.” Anything to get me out of here. “That would be lovely.”

  She stands, holds her hand out for me and I take it gratefully.

  She leads me into the house with my heart pumping fast. Once through the doors I peer through the window to see the two of them still glaring at each other.

  “Oh no,” I whisper. “What’s going on?” I ask Francesca.

  “It’s okay.” Francesca smiles. “Mamma is about to freak out and Enrico didn’t want you to see.”

  “What about?” I stammer with wide eyes.

  “You.” She takes my hand and leads me through the house.

  “Me?” I gasp. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “She’ll be okay,” she says as we start walking up the stairs.

  “But what did I do?”

  “It’s not you.”

  “Then what?”

  “Enrico.”

  “Oh.” I exhale feeling a little mollified. I don’t care if she hates him, just not me.

  We walk down the luxurious corridor and she takes me into her room. It’s cream and pinks with a chandelier and fireplace. It’s huge. “Wow.” I smile as I look around in wonder. “This is beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” She hunches her shoulders as if excited. “We just had it redone.”

  There is artwork on the walls and the carpet is lush underfoot. The color pallet is so unusual but somehow it all works perfectly. The king bed is white and four posted with a white netting. “Did you pick the furnishings?”

  She nods. “Everything.”

  “Wow.” It really is incredible, in fact, the most beautiful room I have seen since I’ve been in Italy. “You have impeccable taste.”

  “I’m hoping to major in interior design.” She shrugs bashfully. “That’s if I get in.”

  “Incredible?” I smile. “Wow, this is amazing.” Finally, a Ferrara who wants to be something other than the mob. “Do you think you would be able to help me with the interior of the Lake Como house?”

  Her eyes widen. “Really?”

  “Yes, it’s so stuffy and boring.” I shrug, embarrassed that I just said that out loud. “Not that I’m ungrateful or anything.”

  “I would love to. I could come over tomorrow if that suits,” she asks hopefully.

  “That would be fantastic.”

  Francesca smiles and I feel hope bloom in my chest, I don’t have a sister. It will be so great getting to know her.

  “Do you want to see the rest of the house?”

  “Sure.” For half an hour Francesca shows me through her home and I’m utterly impressed. This place is something else. Grand like the Lake Como house but in a stuffier way.

  It feels more like a museum than a house.

  “Olivia,” Enrico’s deep voice calls from downstairs. “Are you ready, my love?”

  I frown to Francesca. “Are we going already?”

  She shrugs as if puzzled. “Maybe.”

  We walk down the stairs to find Bianca and Enrico standing at the bottom in the foyer.

  Enrico holds his hand out for me. “Come, we have to go.”

  “Oh.” I smile as my eyes flick to Bianca. “It was lovely meeting you.”

  “Likewise,” she replies politely.

  “Francesca is going to come to visit us tomorrow if that’s okay?” I ask.

  “Of course, it’s okay.” Enrico smiles to his sister seemingly happy that we have made arrangements to see each other.

  “I will send a car in the morning to pick you up.”

  “Okay.”

  He takes my hand. “Goodbye, mother.” He kisses her on both cheeks and I shake her hand and we walk out and he opens my door.

  He gets in and without a word we drive down the driveway. “Well?” I ask.

  He smiles and puts his hand on my thigh. “She loves you.” He turns his attention back to the road.

  God…something tells me that’s a lie.

  Francesca

  “Can I get you anything?” Olivia asks as we stand in the kitchen. “Drink? Dinner will be a couple of hours away.”

  I twist my fingers in front of me nervously as I stand in the kitchen. “No, thank you, I’m fine.”

  Enrico smiles lovingly over at me and rubs my arm. “Thank you for coming and spending some time with us, Chesca. It means a lot.”

  I’ve been here at Lake Como all day. Olivia and I were supposed to be looking at their house, but we’ve mostly been chatting. Enrico took us out for lunch and we laid by the pool. I really want to get to know Olivia, it’s important that I make an effort with her. I don’t want to be cut out of his life and I know that once he sets his mind on someone, she will be it for him.

  “Thanks for inviting me.” I smile awkwardly.

  “Spend as much time here as you want, Chesca.” He smiles.

  I watch him then lean down and kiss Olivia lovingly on the cheek as she cooks. I’ve never seen him like this before, he’s different with her. Softer, like he is with me.

  I’m nervous and I have to steel myself to make conversation. “Rico said you work for Valentino.”

  “Yes.” She smiles broadly.

  “What do you do there?” I ask.

  Rico smiles, proud that I’m making such an effort. He knows how shy I am and how big of a deal this is for me.

  “I’m a textiles consultant,” she tells me.

  I stare at her, wondering what that means.

  “Basically, I couldn’t get a position as a designer, so they gave me this job.” She shrugs. “I do love it, though. Fashion design is my ultimate goal eventually.”

  “Oh.” I smile. “I see.”

  “What year are you in at school?”

  “Year Eleven.”

  “So, you’re eighteen?” she asks.

  “Seventeen.”

  “You seem much older—so pretty.”

  I really like her.

  Rico smiles, happy that we’re both making the effort to get to know each other.

  The doorbell sounds. “Who’s that?” Olivia asks.

  “I’ll get it,” Rico says before he disappears. We hear him talking in the distance, and then he appears again with two people.

  “Francesca and Olivia, this is Angelina and Giuliano.” Rico frowns as he looks between us. “They are friends of Lorenzo.”

  Olivia’s eyes widen. “Hello.” She smiles, as if excited, and she shakes their hands. “Can I get you both a drink? Welcome, welcome.”

  I smile awkwardly as I twist my fingers in front of me.

  Angelina is a blonde woman, pretty and middle aged. Giuliano, the boy, is around my age. His eyes come to me and I feel a flutter in my stomach.

  He has dark hair, huge brown eyes, and olive skin. He’s tall, lean, and he has big red lips.

  Oh…...

  He frowns as his eyes hold mine.

  My heart begins to beat faster—so fast, that I have to concentrate on breathing.

  The adults talk for ten minutes and I sit nervously to the side. I can feel him staring at me. Every now and then I glance over, he doesn’t look away but gives me a soft smile instead.

  I can hear my heartbeat in my ears.

  Oh…he makes me nervous.

  “Francesca, why don’t you show Giuliano around the property? I need to talk some business with his mother,” Enrico says.

  Giuliano stands immediately. “That would be nice.”

  Oh my God.

  I force a smile and nod. “Okay.” I gesture to the backyard. “This way.” I walk out and he falls in line beside me. We walk in silence for ten minutes through the garden. I’m too nervous to speak. The air between us is electric.

  “Hello,” he eventually whispers.

  His voice is deep and raspy. It does things to me.

  “Hi.”

  “And to think that I didn’t want to come today
,” he says.

  I frown. “Why do you say that?”

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispers.

  My heart completely stops as we stare at each other.

  Not as beautiful as you.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?” he asks as we walk around to the side door.

  I shake my head. “No.” I want to ask him if he has a girlfriend, but I can’t push the words past my lips.

  “Do you live here?” he asks.

  “No. I live in Milan.” We begin to go up the service steps at the back of the building. “I’ll show you upstairs.”

  The close proximity of his body next to mine sends goosebumps up my arms.

  “Enrico is your brother?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I reply as we get to the top of the stairs.

  “Where is the guest room?”

  My heart begins to thump hard in my chest and I nervously point down the hall. “This way.” We walk down the hallway, and I show him the first guest room.

  He looks around it and smiles. “Nice.”

  “How many rooms are there on this floor?”

  “Oh, um.” I frown. “I have no idea.”

  He goes out into the corridor and counts the rooms. “Is this the bathroom in here?” he asks.

  I’m so damn nervous that I can hardly speak. “Yes.”

  “Show me.”

  We walk in and gesture around the room with my hand. “This is it.”

  “It’s lovely,” he whispers, his eyes drop to my lips.

  The air leaves my lungs and he turns and closes the door behind us.

  His eyes hold mine and my chest rises and falls as I fight the urge to run.

  He steps toward me and picks up my hand. “I’m so sorry, but you are too beautiful. I have to kiss you.”

  My eyes widen in horror.

  “I-I’ve never kissed anyone before,” I stammer.

  He smiles as he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m a good teacher.”

  Oh my God…is this happening?

  He leans in slowly, and his lips softly brush mine. My eyes close at the contact. His tongue gently sweeps through my lips and he smiles against me. It’s a sweet kiss—one that’s gentle and tender.

  The air leaves my lungs.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Francesca.” His hand slides down and takes mine in his. Our foreheads touch, and this feels special.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too, Giuliano.”

  26

  Olivia

  Three weeks.

  It’s been three weeks of utter bliss.

  Enrico and I stay in Milan from Monday to Thursday and on Fridays we go to Lake Como for the weekend.

  The best of both worlds, privacy and luxury.

  I’m so damn happy that I could explode.

  “I was thinking we could maybe go out for some dinner and drinks tonight with Natalie.” I pull my black pencil skirt up and raise the zipper. “I haven’t seen her much, and I want to make an effort.”

  It’s Wednesday morning, and we are at the Milan apartment getting ready for work. Enrico is in the bathroom with a white towel around his waist, shaving. “If you like,” he says as he concentrates on his task.

  I watch him in the mirror as he slowly slides the razor over his chiseled jaw. No matter how many times I watch him do this, it will never be enough. I’ve found that the best way to ensure that I make it to work on time is to keep my distance while he gets ready in the morning. Him wearing a sharp designer business suit, encasing all that man, is simply to gorgeous for words. I throw on my dusty pink, chiffon, ruffled shirt, and I fasten the buttons.

  “Maybe I could invite Giorgio and his boyfriend, too. I would like Natalie to get to know them better.”

  “If you wish.” He continues shaving.

  “Can we go to my favorite restaurant? The seafood one?” I slip on my high heels.

  “If you like.” He finishes up shaving, and he puts his suit pants on along with a crisp white shirt. He begins to pull on his tie, and he loops it around as we talk.

  Is he even listening to me? “What about your mother? Shall I ask your mother and Francesca?”

  “No, Olivia,” he replies. “My mother doesn’t do drinks on a Wednesday, and Francesca is too young to drink.”

  I smile as I walk into the bathroom. “So, you were listening?”

  His eyes drop down my body, and then rise back up to my face. He steps forward and fastens up the top buttons on my shirt. “Yes, I was listening.”

  “Will you book a table?” I kiss him softly and turn to the mirror to undo the two buttons again.

  “Yes, I’ll book.” He turns me back toward him and does one of the buttons back up.

  I go to undo it again, and he holds his hand up. “Leave it.”

  I instantly stop. My body won’t disobey him, even if I wanted it to.

  His eyes drop down me again, and he rearranges my skirt, tucking in my shirt.

  “You look beautiful.” He smirks at me. “I don’t want anyone looking at what is mine. Leave the buttons fastened.” He runs his hand down my waist to my behind and gives it a hard squeeze before he goes back to working his tie. “We have to go to Roma this weekend,” he says.

  “Why?”

  “I have a business meeting there.”

  I think for a moment. “I might stay here. It will be a good opportunity to see Natalie and catch up on a few things.” And by things, I mean sleep. This man is wearing me out with all his nocturnal activities.

  “No.” He puts his suit jacket on.

  “No?” I frown.

  “You go where I go.” He slips on his shoes. “And we go to Roma this weekend. We can go to the bar where we met. I will take you dancing, we can re-enact our first date.”

  I smile, knowing he’s dangling carrots now. “Okay.”

  He lifts his briefcase. “Maso will take you to work this morning. Where are your keys?”

  I begin to apply my makeup. “In my bag. Why?” I watch on as he slowly slides a key onto my keyring. “This key.” He passes me another two of the same one. “This is a key to your safety deposit box in Milan.” He passes me a business card. “Keep one of these keys at work, and another with Natalie or Giorgio.”

  I frown as I stare at the large silver key. “What do I need a safety deposit box for?”

  “Just in case.” He kisses me quickly.

  “In case of what?”

  “My death.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve made arrangements for you in the event of my death. If I die, I will have been murdered, and you will be their next target.”

  My face falls.

  What the actual fuck?

  “In the safety deposit box, you have five passports of different nationalities, and instructions on how to access money that I’ve secured for you in offshore accounts.”

  I begin to hear my pulse in my ears. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “Olivia. Listen to me. Lorenzo has all the instructions, but in the event that he goes with me, I need to tell you this. If I die, you get yourself to that deposit box without being followed, and you get out of Italy immediately. Tell nobody—and I mean absolutely nobody—where you are.”

  I stare at him, completely lost for words.

  His face softens with empathy, and he cups my cheeks. “Bella, I have to be prepared, that’s all. Don’t worry.”

  “Do you think you’re going to die?” I whisper. What the hell is going on here?

  “No,” he replies as he takes me into his arms. “But what kind of man would I be if I didn’t have arrangements in place for you?”

  “A normal one.”

  He smiles broadly, and then goes to his wardrobe. “I am not a normal man, Olivia, and we have had this conversation too many times this week.” He glances in my wardrobe and looks at all the shopping bags that I haven’t even opened yet that are sitting on the floor in there. “When are you going to look at the things I bought you?”


  My heart drops. To be honest, I don’t want to. I’ve been putting it off. I can’t even begin to fathom the money he spent on me.

  “I haven’t had time. I’ll do it tomorrow night.” I shrug, disappointed in myself that I’m coming across ungrateful. “Thank you again. I’ll wear one of the dresses tonight.”

  He raises a brow, clearly unimpressed.

  I stare at him, rattled that he has just given me his death plan as casually as taking out the trash. And yet he stands here, annoyed that I haven’t looked at the fruits of his shopping trip.

  Priorities.

  He glances at his watch. “I have to go.”

  “Who’s taking you to work?” I ask, suddenly panicked that something may happen.

  “Lorenzo is here. My normal crew.”

  “Oh.” My eyes hold his. “Please… be careful.”

  “I will.” He kisses me softly. “Ti amo.” He pulls me in for a hug, and then turns and walks out of the room. I hear him walk down the stairs, and then out of the front door.

  It closes with a sharp click as he turns the deadlock.

  The room is silent. Heavy.

  I walk into my wardrobe and stare at all the expensive things in bags, and I feel sick to my stomach.

  What good is all the money in the world if I don’t have him?

  His love doesn’t have a price tag.

  I walk out of work just after 5:00 p.m., and my heart drops. Enrico isn’t here to pick me up. Lorenzo is. I know he’s busy running the world and all that, but his little death talk this morning has me feeling needy.

  “Hello.” I smile as I get into the car.

  “Hello, Miss Olivia.”

  “Where are Maso and Marley?” I ask as we pull out into the traffic.

  “In the cars behind us.”

  I turn and look out the back window to see two cars trailing us today, not one.

  “Has something happened, Lorenzo?” I ask.

  His eyes flicker up to mine in the rearview mirror. “Why do you ask?”

  “Enrico gave me a plan this morning in case he dies.”

  “It’s just a precaution,” he says.

  “Is it, though? Do you think Enrico in danger?” I pause for a moment. “Like, more danger than usual?”

  His eyes meet mine in the mirror again. “You’ll have to speak to him about that, Olivia. I’m not at liberty to discuss these things with you.”

 

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