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His Beautiful Revenge: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

Page 3

by Michelle Love


  “Which might mean you not being free to work here as much.” Zulika nodded, “I get it. We always thought that might happen.”

  “Do you mind?”

  Zulika shook her head. “Putting aside the fact I’ll miss your company, your business is the reason our business has been financed this long. I’m grateful. I’m more than that; I’m delighted for you. We need to celebrate.”

  “Good idea.”

  Zulika studied her friend. “Why don’t you stay with me tonight? Call Luc, tell him you need a girl’s night in.”

  Norah nodded. “I’d like that.” What she didn’t add was it would be a relief. The tension at home and Lucian’s mood swings—she needed a break from it. What she also hadn’t told anyone else was that she’d been looking at apartments in the city to rent. If Lucian was cheating, then she already knew her plan. In a weird way, she almost hoped he was cheating because then she would have the final push to do what she had wanted to do for a long time.

  End it.

  Giacomo had now been to the Anthology three times and was feeling like somethings of a stalker. Finally Seb had told him that Norah Reddy had called and tomorrow was the day he would finally meet her. The few hours he had spent in her unknowing company, he had seen a woman who, above all else, was free. Free from vanity and free from expectations. He reminded himself that he did not really know her from those hours observing her, but he couldn’t help feeling excited about the meeting.

  Tonight, however, Tara was sitting out on his balcony, smoking one cigarette after another and fretting about …what was it this time? Giacomo sighed and went outside, pinching a cigarette from her packet.

  “What is wrong today?” He said, lighting the cigarette and inhaling deeply. He studied her. Tara, her denim-blue eyes large, was almost thirty, but she looked a good five years older. Sun damage and smoking had weathered her face, but it didn’t detract from her beauty. She gazed back at him steadily.

  “Why have you never asked me to marry you?”

  The question surprised Giacomo. They had never discussed marriage before. He leaned forward. “Because marriage has never figured into my plans,” he said honestly. “And, rightly or wrongly, I thought you would prefer to have a career rather than be shackled to me.”

  And why would I marry someone who would cheat on me? Or is that why you are cheating on me?

  Tara smirked. “My career is steady. I get the work of girls ten years younger.”

  “I know that you do.”

  “But I think of marriage, kids …”

  “With me?”

  Tara put out her cigarette. “Of course you.”

  Giacomo smiled coolly. “I’m surprised.”

  “Why?”

  He met her gaze steadily, leaving the reason unspoken. Tara was the first to look away. “Whatever.”

  She got up, but he caught her hand. “You are not happy, Tara.”

  “No.”

  “Then why don’t you leave?”

  She didn’t answer, merely pulling her hand away. As she turned to leave, he saw, just for a moment, a flash of hurt in her eyes.

  “Tara …”

  “Don’t,” she said, her voice quivering, and disappeared back into the apartment. Giacomo felt like a heel, but told himself he’d done nothing wrong. You’re not the one who is cheating.

  “Not yet,” he said, thinking of Norah Reddy’s pink lips and sweet smile. “Not yet.” He dropped his head into his hands and sighed.

  Che cazzo di casino. What a fucking mess.

  Norah straightened her skirt over her hips and wished she had another suit. As a graphic designer, she’d always been casually, if professionally, dressed, but otherwise she was hardly ever out of jeans and Chuck Taylor’s. She felt awkward in the dark red suit, but as soon as Giacomo Conti entered the room, she forgot everything else. The photograph on the website did not do him justice.

  He shook her hand, his large, warm hand dwarfing hers, and led her into his office. His very cute assistant, Sebastien, grinned at her.

  “Would you like some coffee?”

  “Just water, please,” she managed to croak out at him and he gave a reassuring wink.

  “Jack, for you?”

  Giacomo smiled and Norah felt her stomach flip. God …that smile. “Water’s good for me too. Thanks, Seb.”

  “He’s nice,” Norah said after Seb had gone and Giacomo smiled.

  “He is, and very efficient. I got lucky. Now, I want to thank you for coming to see me, Norah—I can call you Norah, yes?”

  Oh, god, yes. Especially with the accent. “Of course, Mr. Conti.”

  He laughed. “And that’s “Jack” to you. I hate standing on formality.”

  Norah relaxed a little. “Me too.”

  “Good. Now, as I said in my letter, we have a number of new projects in the pipeline and I was impressed with your portfolio.”

  Norah nodded. “And thank you for taking the time to look, but, Mr. Conti, I have to tell you from the off: I’ve never worked a major project before. Not that I wouldn’t welcome the chance to work with you, but I have to be honest. It would be a huge step-up for me.”

  “I appreciate that,” Giacomo—Jack, she reminded herself—said as Seb came in with their drinks. “Then, I suppose, think of this as graduation day.” He grinned at Seb, who rolled his eyes.

  “That’s his favorite saying,” Seb said to Norah in a stage-whisper and she chuckled.

  “It is?”

  Giacomo nodded. “Yes, but it’s also true. Norah, Seb’s right in that I do like to nurture new talent, especially from the Bay Area, but it helps when that talent has new, fresh, exciting ideas …and your portfolio shows me how talented you are.”

  Seb made a loud beeping noise. “Too many uses of the word ‘talent.’ You’re out.”

  “You’re fired,” Giacomo shot back, grinning, as Seb made his exit, laughing out loud. Norah was shaking her head in disbelief at the comedy show.

  “I may be out of line, but I’ve never been in an office like this,” she laughed and Giacomo smiled at her.

  “Like I said, I hate formality. Or hierarchies. God, who gets off on power trips? Never a good way to run a business.”

  Norah liked this man –immensely—not just because his green eyes were beautiful and warm or because his smile was making a steady pulse beat between her legs, but because, if nothing else, he was honest. Rich, handsome, the world at his feet, but he made jokes with his employees and took their teasing with good humor. Yeah, you’re a good one, Norah thought and felt sadness that she didn’t know more men like him.

  “Are you okay?”

  She pulled herself up. “Yes, very. Just wishing more workplaces were like this.”

  He smiled. “I hear you. Come and sit on the balcony and we’ll talk about the projects I have in mind.”

  The afternoon flew by and Norah left the Conti building feeling more energized by work than she had for a long time. The challenges Giacomo Conti laid in front of her were daunting in their scope, to be sure, but the kind of challenge she had longed for.

  “I see us working closely together,” he said, his eyes twinkling, and she grinned at his flirtatious manner; this man knew how gorgeous he was and didn’t mind using it. You are trouble, she thought now, smiling to herself, but she had enjoyed every moment in Giacomo Conti’s company. More than his looks and personality, though, he had treated her with respect, listened to her as she went through some preliminary ideas, and gave her constructive criticism and praise. It had been a productive, collaborative meeting and she had enjoyed it. Giacomo had asked her to officially sign a contract with him. She had agreed without even discussing money; she had forgotten all about the money side of thing until she got home and read through the contract.

  She frowned. It must be a typo. She grabbed her phone and called him. “I think there’s been a typo,” she said, her tone amused. “There are one too many zeros on the end of this check.”

  She heard hi
s deep, soft laugh and it sent thrills through her. “No,” he said. “There’s no mistake.”

  Norah gasped. “Giacomo …no. This is too generous.”

  “No, it isn’t. You just haven’t been paid what you are clearly worth before. I have to tell –you—I won’t budge on this.”

  Norah was speechless. “I don’t know what to say except thank you for believing in me.”

  That laugh again. “I know you won’t let me down.”

  “I won’t. I promise. Not ever.” Were they still talking about work? The conversation had taken a far more intimate turn and Norah felt her body quiver with longing.

  There was a pause in the conversation. “Norah …I’m having dinner with some friends tomorrow night. Would you like to join me?”

  Norah felt a pang. God, yes, she would but … “Giacomo, I can’t. I’m sorry. I have commitments at home.”

  “Understood. Another time?”

  “Definitely. Goodnight, Giacomo.”

  “Sweet dreams, Bella.”

  She couldn’t stop thinking about him. She went to bed that night, and as Lucian was still out, she allowed herself a little fantasy, sliding her hand between her legs and stroking her clit as she conjured up an image of Giacomo Conti naked, wet from the shower as he opened the door to her. He smiled, saying nothing, but pulling her gently into his arms. Norah gave a soft moan as she imagined his lips against hers, his strong hands sliding under her dress to tug her panties down her legs. She bit her lip as her hand moved faster on her clit and she imagined his cock, huge and pulsating, thrusting deep inside her as his green eyes locked onto hers.

  Norah came as her fantasy melted away and she lay there panting for a few minutes, her body vibrating with the afterglow and her mind whirling. Her orgasm, intense and all-consuming, had made her shiver with desire and longing.

  She heard the front door slam, bringing her back to reality. She turned over in the bed, not wanting to talk to Lucian as he stomped up the stairs.

  “Norah? You awake?”

  She kept her eyes shut, feeling irritated at his presence. God, just leave him already, woman. She stiffened as he got into the bed. He smelled of booze and perfume.

  Fucker.

  She felt him reach for her and kept her body stiff and unresponsive. “Come on, baby,” he slurred, “Wake up for daddy.”

  She wanted to throw up. He knew she hated it when he got like this—drunk and sloppy—and he did it deliberately. The “daddy” thing had always revolted her and it was a new thing too. Did his other girlfriend like it?

  Lucian’s hand was between her legs now, and finally, she reacted. “What the hell are you doing?”

  He laughed. “Just getting mine. C’mon, honey, we haven’t done it for weeks.”

  She edged away from him, but he grabbed hold of her arm. “Let me go, Lucian.”

  “You know what? No. You’re my girlfriend, dammit …”

  He moved quickly, pulling her back onto the bed and covering her body with his, his hands burrowing. “Get off me,” she growled at him, getting more annoyed and scared, but he didn’t let her go. His fingers were seeking her sex now.

  “Why are you wet? See, ready for me, just like I wanted.”

  Norah was crying now as he pinned her to the bed. “Lucian, stop, stop …”

  But he didn’t stop, thrusting his half-erect cock into her and thrusting his hips as she cried and struggled to get away from him, sobbing her rage and hurt. He kissed her roughly and she bit down on his tongue, hard.

  “Fucking bitch!” And he hit her across the face, hard.

  The shock of the assault was icy cold and Norah’s whole body shut down. Lucian continued his rape, thrusting and grunting until he came. “See, baby? See how much I love you? God,” he buried his face in her neck. “Don’t ever leave me, Norah. You ever leave me and I’ll kill you ...I’ll kill you …”

  Frozen, Norah lay under him, and after a few minutes, Lucian was snoring. She shoved him off her. He didn’t wake as she slid from the bed. She got dressed, pulling her hold-all from the closet and dumping her clothes and toiletries into it. Downstairs, she attached Ziggy’s lead, grabbed her laptop and phone, and got into her car. Without looking back, she drove into the city and straight to Zulika’s apartment.

  When Zulika opened the door, she was shocked to see Norah’s face, wan and pale. Dry-eyed but obviously devastated, Norah let Zulika lead her into the apartment, then said, very calmly, “I need you to take me to the nearest police station, Zul. I have to report a rape.”

  Giacomo smiled at his friends as they sat around the outside dinner table. Ferma was perched on Giacomo’s knee, showing him how to draw the perfect spacecraft, and Carmel was leaning against a reasonably drunk Orlando. Lando raised his glass. “To my family, my beautiful wife and daughter, and my brother, Giacomo.”

  Giacomo buried a grin and Carmel rolled her eyes. “Fourth time tonight, hun.”

  They had enjoyed sizzling hot fajitas and two or three bottles of red wine, and now it was getting late.

  “Come on, fruit bat.” Carmel lifted her daughter up. “Time for bed. Give Jack a kiss.”

  Ferma threw her arms around her godfather’s neck and kissed his cheek. Giacomo chuckled. “Night, mio caro.”

  While they were alone, Lando studied his friend. “You look different. Upbeat.”

  Giacomo smiled and ran his hand through his dark curls. “And if I told you why …”

  Lando laughed. “Please, make my day and tell me it’s a woman.”

  “It is,” Giacomo admitted wryly. “And not the one it’s supposed to be.”

  “I figured. Who is she?”

  “Her name is Norah Reddy she’s a brilliant graphic designer, and she has a boyfriend. That would beokay—after all, I couldn’t date someone who worked for me—except for one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  Giacomo hesitated for a long moment. “I think Norah’s boyfriend is the one screwing Tara.”

  Lando was sober then. “Oh god, Jack …”

  “I know. What a fucking mess.” He gave a humorless laugh. “I’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

  Lando sighed. “Man …does she know? I mean, this Norah girl? Does she know?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Hell.”

  “Yup.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes, then Lando leaned forward. “You like her?”

  Giacomo nodded. “Very much. She’s …the opposite of Tara.”

  “Man, I think it’s time you ended things with Tara. You haven’t been happy with her for years.”

  “She asked me the other night why I had never proposed to her. I gave her some guff about not wanting to settle down and hurt her career.”

  “Did she buy it?”

  “No. I think we both know it’s over at this point. God, I knew she was cheating and my instinct was to find out who with, but now I wish I never knew. I wish I had just had the guts to finish it.”

  They sat in silence until Carmel came back down and re-joined them. “Men? Have we moved into serious territory?”

  “Jack’s got a crush.”

  Carmel grinned at Giacomo. “How many times have I told you, Jacky? I’m married.”

  “Sucks, my mistake.” He grinned at her, but then his smile faded. “Carmel, I met someone. Someone …special. But I also know something that could break her heart. Do I tell her?”

  Carmel didn’t have an answer for him.

  Zulika took her friend to the police, then accompanied her to the hospital for the rape kit. She saw the burgeoning bruise on Norah’s face and her stomach roiled with fury. When she was sure that Norah was asleep, back safe in Zulika’s apartment, she called her step-brother. He was still asleep.

  “Motherfucker,” she hissed down the telephone at him. Lucian was awake then.

  “Zul, what the hell is going on?”

  In the background, she could hear sirens and she smiled grimly. “Hear those blu
es and twos, cocksucker? They’re coming for you. I saw what you did to her. I saw the bruises on her face. You fucking raped Norah.”

  “What the fuck? Rape? I had sex with my girlfriend, Zulika, not that it’s any of your business …and where the hell is Norah? Norah!”

  She heard him call out for his absent girlfriend and it made her growl. “You don’t even remember, do you? You hit her, Lucian, then you forced yourself on her. Rape, dear brother, is rape. God, I could kill you.”

  “What?” Lucian’s voice had changed from confused to scared now. “No …no … I couldn’t have …god …”

  Zulika heard the knock at Lucian’s door. “Better get that, asshole. It’s time for your walk in perp irons. You’ll never see her again. Do you understand? Neither of us. Don’t come near either of us ever again or I’ll have you arrested.”

  “Zul …please, call my lawyer …” She heard the police inside his apartment now, telling him to hang up the phone.

  “Go fuck yourself.” She said and hung up the phone. Tears began to fall down her cheeks and, trembling, she buried her face in a pillow to muffle her sobs. The shock of what happened was hitting her now, but she knew it was nothing to what Norah must be feeling. Zulika couldn’t believe it; she had never liked her step-brother, but had never thought him capable of this.

  She felt an arm slip around her shoulders and looked up to see Norah was awake. They hugged each other for a long time.

  “Don’t cry,” Norah said gently, which of course made Zulika cry even harder.

  “Why are you comforting me? You’ve been through hell.”

  Norah opened her mouth to argue, but her body slumped and she nodded. “I guess it’s just hitting me.”

  Ziggy, his eyes mournful, padded over to the two women and stuck his snout between them. Norah gave a little laugh and hugged him. “The only man I can rely on,” she said, stroking his silky head.

  They sat up until dawn, talking about what she would do next. “Stay with me,” Zulika begged and Norah agreed.

  “Just for now,” she said and told Zulika about the apartments she had already scouted out. “I was lying to myself for so long, Zul. It’s been over for months, maybe even years.”

  Zulika nodded. “I think we both needed to break up with the asshole. It’s not as if our parents are even married anymore.”

 

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