by Joy, Melita
As soon as Anselmo finished his call they made their way to his car. “Is it far?”
“It’s only a few minutes away. Try to relax. He is an important man, and you will do better if you appear confident.”
“I know, it’s just that I’m a bit anxious, and it’s hard to settle my nerves.”
“He took a hold of her hand in a caring gesture. You will be fine, look at the strength you have.”
Leilani let out a deprecating laugh. She would hardly define herself as a woman of strength. She had allowed herself to be railroaded into a loveless marriage.”
“You have travelled half way across the world and look at you, about to marry one of our richest and most prosperous business men. It took courage to come here and do what you are doing. Some may have buried their head in the sand or denied the truth of it. Instead, you tackled it head on. Stand proud today and let whatever happens be.”
Leilani squeezed his hand in return and thanked him for his kind words. A small bubble of pride lifted her chin that this man thought that highly of her. She wouldn’t let self-doubt niggle at her even though she knew that his fees nullified most of the compliments sincerity.
They soon pulled up outside of a very familiar building. “What are we doing here?”
“He lives here,” Anselmo stated puzzled. “What’s wrong?”
“My fiancé lives here. That is what is wrong.”
“Is this a setup? I demand to know what is going on immediately,” unnerved she held her chin up defiantly refusing to take a step until she understood what was happening.
“I promise it is no set-up. Come on we are not going to Renato’s apartment. There is another apartment in the building that does not belong to him.”
“That seems like a fairly heavy coincidence that they both live in the same building,” she stated sceptically.
“Indeed it does,” Anselmo said with a heavy sigh. “At some point you are going to need to trust. I know that it is difficult with all that you have been through and discovered, but I can only assure you with my words. Don’t let your courage drop now,” he led the way into the apartment block.
Renato scowled into the phone. “You’re sure?” he asked though he didn’t doubt Savino for a moment.
“One hundred percent, I’d get over there now if I were you, mate. I can’t believe she’s got the nerve to take him back to your place.” Renato clicked off. He was fuming, the news propelling him into action. He cut short the meeting he was chairing and headed for the car.
Leilani followed Anselmo up to the apartment and took his leave, “You don’t need me here by your side for this.”
“Yes, I’ll be fine thanks,” she had to agree. The moment would be far too personal. Her nerves almost had her begging him to stay. He would no doubt feel awkward, and she could understand that.
“Come inside, I don’t bite,” the voice was accented but not as thickly as she had expected, older too than she had thought with an underlying authority. She walked in, and they simply spent a moment sizing one another up. The moment should have been uncomfortable yet curiosity was driving them both.
He was a few inches taller than she was and for a man of his age he looked well like he’d kept in reasonable shape over the years. He had a full head of silvery white hair which he wore combed back with the aid of a small amount of product. He sported a trimmed silver moustache on a clean shaven face. He wore a well-fitted dark grey, double buttoned, single breasted woollen suit complete with a crisp white shirt and navy tie.
He had a face marked by the usual effects of survival, hard work and existing for three-quarters of a century. A strong Roman nose the right accompaniment for a pair of sharp, judicious grey eyes, not the pretty blue grey that reflected back at her each morning, but an antique metal shade. Those eyes sized her up sharply and then nodding his head as though he approved he asked her to take a seat.
“I could ask you how you are, but the small talk seems a bit out of place at this stage of our relationship,” he murmured. “I’m not a man to mince words, my dear. I have a few questions and things that I would like to know, and I am sure you have a set of questions of your own?”
“Um, yes Sir I do,” she wasn’t supposed to sound hesitant or awkward but that’s exactly how she felt. She didn’t even know how she should address the man.
Renato put his foot down on the accelerator disregarding speed limits in favour of expediting his trip home. He was furious and vented his anger out on the road with sharp turns and traffic weaving. It was little wonder he had stayed single for so many years. At least with lovers there was no commitment. He could turn them away when it suited him and would never have put up with this kind of agitation. She had provoked him to a point that no other had. If he had a choice, he would throw her out on her ear. Damn Vittorio.
He could see his apartment up ahead and applied more pressure to the accelerator churning up the gravel driveway on his way past the gates. Slamming the door shut and walking with a furious purpose he went from the living room to her room and finally to the kitchen. Bumping into one of the house cleaners he all but roared at her, “Where is she?”
“Who are you looking for Signore?” she looked nervous and when he became level headed again, he knew he would need to apologise but right now he wasn’t even close to even tempered.
“Leilani,” he snapped impatiently.
“I’m sorry, but she hasn’t been here since you left together?” her eyebrows furrowed possibly wondering what to make of her irrational boss.
He ran his hand through his hair, irritated and called Savino, “she’s not here.”
“Impossible, my men even have footage of them walking into the apartment,” he denied.
Savino was one of the most exhaustively thorough people he knew which was why he was the best. “When did your man leave? Is it possible I just missed them leaving?”
“He’s still in the street and he knows he is to stay until either she leaves, or I give word otherwise.”
“Well, I’ve been through every bloody room in the place, and she is not in there and the staff haven’t seen her here since we left for Pontelandolfo. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Check your phone I just sent you the footage.”
“I do not doubt the footage Sav, but where the heck is she?” he banged his hand against the stone wall; the pain averted with his frustration.
“Let’s both review the clip and we’ll go from there.” At least one of them was thinking. It was unlike Renato to allow his emotion to take control. He opened the video clip, and it was as Savino described. Anselmo and Leilani had parked out the front of the building and walked hand in hand through the front door of the apartment building.
Finally, his brain kicked into gear, and he ran out to the driveway dialling Sav on the way. “Where is your man parked exactly?”
“He’s four houses up on the left.”
“Anselmo’s car has already left which is something your man should have realised.”
Savino swore and said he would get to the bottom of it, but Renato was already striding towards the surveillance car. The investigator rushed out of his car noticing with an enormous amount of trepidation Renato’s arrival.
“Where is she?” he clipped completely invading the shorter man’s space.
“She’s still in there,” the investigator was used to confrontational situations. However, he was no rival for Renato, and his fear was apparent.
“Siete incompetenti,” he fumed. “Has it escaped your attention that Cordoni’s car is no longer here?” The investigator caught out, blustered with indignation. Finally, Renato was able to get to the bottom of it.
“I hope the pay-off you received was worth the loss of your job. Get out of my sight.” He needed to take stock of the situation as the table had turned, and the situation was no longer what he initially thought. This moment was inevitable, and he would be present to ensure the outcome did not divert from the original plan. He wou
ld not be repudiated after all these years of work.
The conversation had gone better than she expected, and an offer was extended to her to stay for coffee. She accepted eagerly and while he stepped out of the room for a short period she took the opportunity to take a look at some of his family photos on the wall. She thought back to her family photos and happier times.
A memory of a snow trip many years ago triggered. She would have been no more than six years old. Her parents had chased each other, slipping on the icy snow while she giggled at their mishaps. In retaliation, they threw snowballs at her before making the obligatory snowman that she only really remembered from the photos that were taken. A lopsided fella with round stone eyes, a twig for a nose and a leaf mouth adorned with her father's tweed hat.
The memory broke up the reality of her family life. The constant bitter arguments and her mother’s idle threats to leave. Leilani learned to tune them out, a good pair of headphones didn’t hurt either. She wasn’t close to either of her parents, her mother was a sewing machinist and worked long hours. When she wasn’t working, she was making it very clear to Leilani that all her hard work was for her. She complained incessantly about the hand she was dealt and not having what should have been her right.
“What rights are you talking about,” she remembered asking on more than one occasion.
Never you mind,” her mother shut her down any time she questioned.
Leilani didn’t understand her mother. She’d grown up in Italy not far from Renato’s home in Pontelandolfo. Her mother didn’t talk a great deal about her upbringing but from the snippets she’d gleaned she knew that her mother had done it quite tough. She didn’t finish her education and started work in the local bakery while she was still a young teen.
There had been one night her mother slightly intoxicated had opened up to her. She rarely drank, and the amber liquid must have loosened her lips as she shared a story of a handsome man back home that had once been the love of her life before breaking her heart irreparably. Her mother engrossed in the past let a tear slip. It rolled its way down her weary cheek. It was the first and only time Leilani had seen her mother cry and at that moment she had a heartfelt sympathy for her mum.
Her relationship with her father was even worse. Throughout the years, they would fight terribly yelling at one another, resulting in stinging slaps on the back of her thighs as punishment. Although not close to her mother nothing boiled her blood more than her father’s degradation and insults aimed at his wife. It was worse still when done publicly and always resulted in Leilani coming to her mother’s defence. Mind you for a petite woman her mother could pack a punch and could give back as good as she got.
She could never understand her mother’s commitment to him. In her younger days her mother was quite a petite beauty with long chestnut hair and lovely features she would have had her fair share of admirers. Unfortunately, it seemed her previous Italian lover had left her bitter, mistrustful and detached from allowing love into her life again, instead settling for her father who clearly didn’t make her happy.
Leilani brought herself back to the present and looked at a wedding photo taken a good forty to fifty years ago. The resemblance was there only he was incredibly dashing in a black suit, white shirt and silver tie with his bride. Her gown was modest, a simple lace dress with a fitted bodice and a slight A-line down to her white shoes. The wide brimmed lace bonnet, white choker with gold clasp and white gloves gave the bride a celebrity look.
There were several other photos of unfamiliar people and then she cast her eye on a picture of a young boy. Leilani leaned in to view the child with the familiar green-grey eyes. Those eyes, so distinct and such an unusual shade. Turning to the next photo was the same boy only a few years older and without a doubt she knew who he was.
They both entered at the same time through the two separate living room entrances. The grown up boy burst through the front door and dominated one entry while her elderly host returned through the other door.
She raised her hand to her mouth looking from one to another appalled, genuinely appalled as her mind linked the only possibility together.
CHAPTER NINE
“Dear God,” she uttered. Renato watched her trying to make sense of the situation, “Are you, my brother?”
“Mio dio! No, I’m not your brother,” he could understand how she had come to that conclusion but what sort of a man did she think he was. Even for the sake of the Favalli Empire he would not go so far as incest, it went to show just how little she knew about him.
“Sit down let’s talk,” he directed.
Leilani perched herself on the edge of a lounge chair and clenched the fabric of her new skirt, crushing and creasing it as she waited for clarity. Their deceit knew no bounds, and she wanted answers, would demand them.
It wasn’t Renato that started the explanation it was Vittorio, and he came out with it in the same manner he’d introduced himself, direct and with no preamble. “You are my daughter, but Renato is my adopted son,” he paused, maintaining eye contact with her. “Your mother and I were in a relationship many years ago and you were the product of our union.”
Leilani swallowed down the bile that crept up her throat, the product of their union indeed. As tempted as she was to use sarcasm she dropped the urge and tried to stay as neutral as possible. A range of emotions were brewing inside of her, and she wasn’t sure which one would triumph. “Well I’ve been around for twenty-seven years and you obviously knew I existed. Why agree to see me now and Renato, what was your part in this? Did you know who I was when you befriended me on the plane and suggested I come and stay with you? I’m sure you don’t go around offering personal shelter to everyone you meet?” the questions were springing to her mind in a torrent.
Both men started to speak, however; it was Vittorio who dominated while Renato stared at her, his face impassive.
“It’s an uncanny coincidence, my dear, that you found each other,” Vittorio stated.
Renato neither confirmed nor denied the comment and Leilani remained suspicious. “You’ll have to excuse me if I find this all a little difficult to swallow. Having spent all my years living a lie I don’t know what to believe,” Leilani pushed back the memory of finding out about her biological father. She was still raw, and she refused to show how affected she was in front of either man.
“Regardless I couldn’t be happier to be welcoming you as a daughter and as the wife of Renato,” said with just the right amount of gruffness. Leilani felt herself softening towards the man.
“Well,” she prevaricated.
“I’ve only shared this with Renato as he is my family and now I’ll share it with you. You will understand if I ask you not to leak this to the media. Any sign of weakness and they swarm like vultures,” his lips tightened. “I’m ill, very ill. It’s not good, and I would like to pass with peace knowing that I have handed my business and wealth to my bloodline. You are my only surviving blood, and it’s right that you receive your inheritance.”
“I didn’t search for you to take your money,” Leilani objected.
“I am not accusing you, in any case this I ask selfishly to allow me peace in my grave. I know you do not know me and you have no reason to grant me my wish yet. I ask that you give this quick consideration. I do not have long, and I’d like to settle my affairs sooner rather than later. Although I wasn’t present in your life I always made provisions for you, so I hope you realised that I still acknowledged you in a remote way.”
Leilani frowned thinking of the financial hardship her parents suffered over the years. “I was never acknowledged and I don’t understand what you are saying. Please let me think all of this over, as you can imagine I came here today hoping to find out more about you and to connect hopefully with you on some level. Today, well it’s been a lot to take in,” tension was pooling at the base of her skull, and she pinched her shoulder muscles in a futile attempt to lessen the knot.
“Take some time but no
t too long. As I have said, nothing has changed. You have found me, and I would like to acknowledge you now with an inheritance. I will leave you and Renato to talk this through,” Vittorio up and left without a backward glance.
She felt a pair of warm hands slowly manipulating her shoulders. Leilani had not even noticed Renato move to stand behind her. Her attention had been solely focused on Vittorio, well not entirely. She had snaked several glances his way, but she could read nothing. She had no clue how he was feeling about all of this and whether or not he honestly didn’t know.
“We need to talk,” he stated.
Well, that much was clearly apparent. She still needed answers. “I’m still doubtful that you knew nothing of Vittorio being my father. I’m sorry, but this just doesn’t make any sense. I mean don’t you think it’s a bit more than a coincidence that not only is your adoptive father my biological parent but that you should turn up here on the day that we are introduced?”
“I know it may seem like a stretch of the imagination. However, I think I can explain things adequately enough,” he continued to massage her shoulders, and she found it increasingly difficult to concentrate.
“I think I’d rather we continued our chat with you sitting if you don’t mind,” she asserted.
Renato gave a small half smile and sat in the same lounge chair as her, leaving less space between them than she needed at this moment. He sat contemplating his thoughts momentarily, and she urged him on. “The truth, Renato. If we are to be married, then I refuse to live with more and more lies mounting up. You have no idea what it is like to live like that. Nearly the first thirty years of my life scattered into the wind like ashes. Tell me know what exactly is going on so that I can make a proper decision on my future,” Leilani let out a small amount of the frustration and emotion that had been growing.
Renato took in Leilani’s face. Her eyes highlighted with a touch of mascara looked bigger than usual today. She was trying to be assertive and unaffected, but she wasn’t pulling it off. He knew that his touch and his closeness flustered her, and he liked knowing that he had an unsettling effect on his wife to be. Most women would not hesitate to marry him. He would romanticise the situation, and she would no doubt deal with whatever small insecurities remained for her. He knew she would not renege on the marriage.