His Beautiful Revenge: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Michelle Love

  So, that hadn’t worked, but Tara knew exactly how to bring her former lover to his knees and she was looking forward to seeing Giacomo Conti utterly destroyed.

  She pulled out her phone and dialed. “They’re at Fonseca’s. You know what to do.”

  She ended the call and started the car, pulling away from the sidewalk outside the bar. Tonight, it begins, Giacomo. Tonight.

  Carmel excused herself to use the bathroom. She sighed to herself. Damn you, Tara, for making my friend so miserable. Giacomo was as devastated as she’d ever seen him. Carmel knew that he and Norah would have been good together. Maybe she would call the other woman to try and help mend things. She knew what Lando would say—don’t interfere. But she couldn’t stand by while two people who were as crazy about each other as Giacomo and Norah tore themselves apart.

  She used the bathroom and was washing her hands when she heard the bathroom door click locked. She looked up to see a man entirely dressed in black, his face covered, and in his hand, a gun leveled at her. Her blood froze. No, this can’t be happening …

  She backed away from him as he moved toward her. “What the hell are you doing? Who are you?” She thought she had asked him out loud, but realized the silence of the bathroom had been broken by neither of them, and when she saw a long silencer attached to the front of the gun, Carmel could barely breathe.

  “Please …I’m pregnant …and I have a daughter, a seven-year-old-daughter …”

  The first bullet hit her in the stomach. Carmel doubled up, the force of the shot taking her breath away. The second bullet tore through her shoulder, smashing her collarbone. She slumped to the floor, the pain taking over. Her killer calmly walked up to her and crouched beside her. Carmel tried to see his eyes. “Please …don’t …”

  He pressed the muzzle against her belly and emptied the rest of the gun into her.

  Orlando ended the call as Giacomo returned with the drinks. His friend looked around. “Where’s Carmel?”

  “Bathroom,” Orlando said, then checked his watch, frowning. “Maybe she got lost.” He stood and looked over the crowded room. “I’ll just go check to see she’s okay.”

  His heart was pounding as he approached the hotel bathrooms and when he heard the scream he started to run. A young blonde girl came out of the ladies’ bathroom screaming, and instantly Orlando knew. He grabbed the young girl. “What is it?”

  “I think she’s dead,” the young blonde sobbed. “There’s so much blood.”

  He burst into the bathroom, but then was stopped. It felt like a hammer blow. Carmel was propped in a sitting position against the far wall in a pool of her blood. He could tell instantly that she had been shot, her hand on her belly uselessly trying to stem the flow of blood. He darted to her side, his heart hammering, his fingers pressing against her neck trying to find a pulse.

  “Oh, my god.” Giacomo’s shocked voice behind him. “Call 911. Now!” He barked the instruction at a shocked-looking bartender who scurried off. Giacomo approached Orlando, who was cradling Carmel in his arms. “Carmel?”

  “I can’t find a pulse.” Orlando’s voice was haunting. His hand was pressed against her wounds, her head on his shoulder. “Please don’t leave me, Carmel. Please.…not now, not like this …”

  As Giacomo watched, his friend broke down, sobbing over the brutalized body of the woman he loved, begging her to live …

  The assassin reported back to his client, who thanked him warmly. She chuckled. “I wish I could have seen Giacomo’s face …listen. I may need you again in the future if my plan doesn’t work out. I may need you to kill someone else for me. Another woman. I’ll send you the details, but I don’t want anything to happen to her yet. Just watch her for now.”

  The killer nodded. “And the name?”

  Tara Hubert smiled. “Her name is Norah Reddy and when I give the order, I want you to make that bitch suffer before she dies …”

  His lips trailed across her collarbone as he slowly entered her, his cock huge and throbbing as he pushed inside of her. Norah gasped, tightening her legs around his waist, and pulling his lips up to meet hers. “I love you, Giacomo.”

  His eyes were intense on hers as he nodded, his skin on hers, thrusting harder and deeper with every stroke. “Ti amo, Norah, ti amo …”

  Norah stood under the shower, thinking of the dream. It felt so sensory, so real—Giacomo’s hands on her body, his mouth on hers, his breath mixing with hers. Norah shook herself. He lied and used you for revenge, she told herself. It doesn’t matter how gorgeous he is, how much fun you had together, or how much you ache for him. He’s a liar. He’d broken all his promises, destroyed her trust, and hurt her heart. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She raised her face to the spray to clear the tears that suddenly dripped down her face. Focus on something else. Tara Hubert. Even now, the image of Tara’s triumphant face was clear in her mind. Norah smiled grimly. A part of her, she was ashamed to admit to herself, plotted Tara’s downfall. She could go to the press about the whole affair. After all, she didn’t owe anything to Tara and Lucian—nor Giacomo. Norah indulged the fantasy for a second but knew she would do no such thing. Don’t stoop to her level, she told herself. Prove I’m not like her. She finished rinsing the conditioner from her hair and stepped out from the shower.

  Fall was setting in over San Francisco and a cool breeze drifted through her window as she dressed and dried her hair. Zulika had gone to the bookshop, taking Ziggy with her, and Norah had the day off. A day off to brood and stew, she thought. She decided to distract herself with some mindless television while she baked a cake for Zulika. She flicked on the television, only half listening to the banal chitchat of the morning anchors as she put together the ingredients for an angel food cake. The local news station interrupted as she was scraping the mixture out of the bowl into the baking tin. Norah heard the name and the blood in her veins froze.

  This just in: Prominent San Francisco human rights lawyer, Carmel Price, was shot to death last night in the bathroom of a downtown bar. The Harvard law graduate was married with a young child. Police are searching for the gunman, who evaded the club’s security cameras, and say that the lawyer’s recent international courtroom battles may have something to do with the killing.

  Her head whirled and she gripped the counter for support, suddenly breathless. She sank to the floor, breathing in great gulps of air and trying to clear her head. She moved her head and her ears buzzed. Her skin suddenly felt as if a thousand fire ants had stung her. She crawled across the floor to the television.

  “No …no …” Norah couldn’t breathe as a photo of Carmel was flashed up, followed by a video of a distraught-looking Orlando carrying a sobbing Ferma. Behind them, Giacomo, his face contorted with anger and despair, cursed and pushed away the thronging paparazzi as all three of them made their way from the hospital entrance to Giacomo’s limousine. Norah’s breath was coming in short, panicked sobs now, and unthinkingly, she left everything as it was, grabbed her car keys, and ran from the apartment.

  She barely registered where she was going until she pulled onto Orlando’s street and slammed on her brakes. What the hell was she doing?

  She shook herself. Should she have come? She realized tears were pouring down her cheeks and inside her there was a need, a desperation to reach out and comfort her friends…

  You’ve only known them for such a short time …

  She dropped her head into her hands and didn’t see the limousine pass her by. Norah looked up to see the press camped outside Orlando’s home and got angry. She got out of the car, slamming the door, her rage alive inside her. “You! Get the fuck away from that door! You do not step one foot on this property without permission. Do you understand?”

  Norah rarely got mad, but when she did, the sheer force of her anger made certain that those it was directed at were in no doubt she meant it. Norah pushed past the paparazzi and the news teams and knocked on the front door. Orlando opened it a crack—then his eyes wide
ned in surprise and he threw open the door, grabbed her arm and pulled her inside into a bear hug. Norah held him as he sobbed, his face pressed into her shoulder. Over his shoulder, she saw another younger woman. She could only be Orlando’s sister from the resemblance. The woman nodded at her, unsmiling, then disappeared back into the living room.

  Orlando released Norah, wiped his face, and tried to smile. “I’m sorry, Norah. I didn’t mean to do that. It’s so good to see you.”

  “Orlando …I can’t even begin …”

  “Please,” he held up his hand. “I know. Everyone’s sorry. Come in and meet some people. See Ferma.” He took her hand, starting to draw her into the other room, then stopped, his eyes confused. “Giacomo …”

  A spike of sadness shot through her. Norah braced herself to see her ex-lover, but then Orlando shook his head. “You just missed him. He would have loved to see you, kiddo.”

  Norah shook her head. ‘This isn’t about Giacomo and me, Orlando. God, I can’t even imagine how you must feel. How’s Ferma?”

  They walked to the kitchen. “Confused, sad …she’s like the rest of us—in disbelief.” Orlando sighed. “When I had to tell her …”

  Norah squeezed his hand. “If there’s anything I can do …” She felt useless, and now she felt like an intruder, but as soon as Ferma saw her, she hugged her tightly.

  Orlando introduced Norah to his family and to Carmel’s mother, an attractive older woman who looked shattered. Norah couldn’t help but hug her. “I’m so sorry.”

  Norah helped out, cooking for the family, fielding phone calls, and making sure Ferma was fed. Orlando smiled at her gratefully, but Norah kept to herself, not wanting to intrude on the family’s grief.

  It was getting dark when Norah settled Ferma into bed. The little girl was exhausted and fell asleep, still clutching Norah’s hand. In Ferma’s other hand was a shirt that Norah recognized as Carmel’s. It broke her heart.

  She snuck out of the back door, sat on the back steps, and let silent tears fall. What the hell was the matter with this world? Jesus …

  Norah didn’t want to attract attention, so she buried her face in her hands and sobbed quietly. After a few minutes, she felt someone sit down beside her and put an arm around her. Somehow, she knew who she would see when she opened her eyes and knew she would have to deal with her heartbreak, but for the moment, she leaned into the warmth of him, breathing in his clean scent. Giacomo pressed his lips against her temple. Neither said anything. There seemed no need for words.

  After a while, Norah heard the screen door behind them open. “Take her home, Jack,” Orlando’s voice was warm and soft. “She’s been incredible today. She must be exhausted.”

  Norah wanted to protest that she wasn’t the one who needing taking care of, but suddenly she was overwhelmed with tiredness and sadness. Giacomo nodded and helped her up. Norah hugged Orlando. “I’ll come back in the morning if you need me.”

  Orlando hugged her hard. “You just take care of both of you. We’ll be okay. We’ll see you soon, right? For the funeral?”

  “Of course.”

  She didn’t protest when Giacomo led her to his car. There was no way she could drive herself, and, when it became obvious he was driving them back to his place, she felt only relief.

  Giacomo took her hand as they walked up the steps and inside and he didn’t hesitate to lead her upstairs.

  In his bedroom, they faced each other. Giacomo brushed his lips against hers. “Are you tired, Principessa?”

  She nodded, but kissed him again, wanting to feel his skin against hers.

  ‘So you want to sleep, mio caro?”

  She hesitated only a second before shaking her head. She gazed up at him. His green eyes were ringed with black circles. He looked shattered but still devastatingly handsome. She stroked her fingers down his cheek and he leaned into her touch.

  They stripped each other slowly, the heat between them a smoldering thing. This was not the joyful lovemaking of before—this was a desperate need to feel love, closeness, and safety. Feeling his skin against hers was like a drug to Norah and she wanted him to feel some comfort too as they made love slowly.

  Afterward, they lay side by side, gazing at each other. Giacomo, in halting tones, told her about the night Carmel was murdered.

  “She just lay there, so still, so …it was like everything stopped. I could hear Orlando screaming at her to breathe and yet it sounded like it was coming from a million miles away. Mio Di o…” Giacomo closed his eyes and Norah could see how much he had been affected. “I’ve never seen so much blood, mio caro,. It was horrific. Did you know she was pregnant?”

  “God, no …” Norah’s voice broke and she started to cry. Giacomo held her close, his lips against her forehead.

  When her sobs quieted, he stroked her damp cheeks. “Bella, this is going to sound monumentally selfish, but all I could think of, once we’d been to the hospital and they’d told us there was nothing they could do, was you. How badly I’d screwed things up by not being completely honest. How short life is.”

  She nodded, hiccupping her sobs away. Giacomo smiled and kissed her gently. “I’m so sorry, Bella, for not being entirely honest with you from the start. I promise you, my love for you is based solely on us being together and nothing else. I swear it to you.”

  Norah sighed. “I believe you, Giacomo. At least, I want to. I just need some time is all.”

  He nodded, though his eyes were sad. “You’ll stay tonight?”

  She hesitated. She was exhausted and drained and all she wanted was this man’s arms around her. Just tonight, she told herself, then we reset. Take our time. She told him that and he looked relieved. She realized then how much he needed her.

  “Giacomo,” she said, pushing him onto his back and climbing on top of him, “Let’s help each other forget for tonight, forget everything except this …”

  She took his hand and guided it between her legs. He stroked her clit and felt how wet she was for him as she trailed her fingers up and down his swelling cock. When he was hard, she slowly impaled herself onto him, sighing with the feeling of being filled by his diamond-hard, thick cock. She rode him slowly at first, but as the tension began to build, he suddenly flipped her onto her back and plunged harder and deeper inside her. Then they were clawing at each other, lips rough against the others, gasping and panting, crying out each other’s name.

  In the end, neither of them slept, instead fucking until dawn, wanting to savor every moment of each other. Giacomo took her in his bed, on the floor, and in the bathtub until they were both exhausted.

  He drove her home through the early morning light, and as she said goodbye, he kissed her tenderly. “Ti amo, mio caro.”

  She leaned her forehead against his. “I love you too.”

  Norah let herself into Zulika’s flat. Ziggy gave a delighted muted woof and came to meet her. She hugged him for a while, then poked her head into Zulika’s bedroom. Her friend was still curled up in bed, asleep, so Norah decided not to wake her. She hurriedly scribbled a note for Zulika, telling her they would open the bookstore late to wait for her to wake before going in. As she walked to the bedroom, she checked her phone to see if Orlando had messaged her, but he hadn’t.

  Then, with Ziggy in tow, Norah fell onto her bed still fully dressed and slept until the afternoon.

  Lucian stared out of the window of the car. He’d asked Tara to meet him, to ask her if she had anything to do with Carmel Price’s murder. He had wanted—he had hoped—she would deny it, but she grinned, completely unrepentant, and nodded. “Of course. I told you that situation would be dealt with and it was.”

  Lucian stared at her in disbelief. “I never said to kill the woman. Jesus, Tara … she had a kid. The news this morning said she was pregnant and you had her killed for what? Conti already knew about us! Fuck …”

  His voice was growing higher and higher and he saw the sneer on Tara’s face. “You wanted the problem to go away and it did.
”

  “Jesus, Tara.”

  Tara, her icy blonde beauty stone cold, gave a wave of her hand. “That’s the only way to deal with the problem. Besides, now Giacomo will be so devastated that he’ll need comforting, by someone familiar. Heard he broke up with your girlfriend. Lucky for her.”

  Lucian went very still. “What do you mean by that?”

  Tara stared back coolly. “Exactly what you think.”

  Lucian raised his hands. “Woah, woah, woah, no. Tara, don’t even think about hurting Norah.”

  Tara shrugged. “Why do you care? You already raped her. Didn’t you tell me you told her you’d kill her if she left you? She did leave you. She fucked Giacomo. Why do you care if someone puts a bullet into her?”

  Lucian drew in a deep breath. ‘Tara …you want Giacomo back?”

  “I do.”

  “Fine …then you’ll understand that I too wish for something.”

  Tara cackled loudly. “Are you crazy? That woman will never, ever take you back, Lucian. You raped her. Better she’s gone forever, then we can all get on with our lives.”

  “No!” Lucian was furious now, and before Tara could move, his hands were around her throat, squeezing. She fought back, clawing at his face as she choked.

  “Lucian, stop …I was joking …”

  Lucian seemed to come to his senses. He released her and sat back. “Just know, if any harm comes to Norah …”

  Tara smiled, her fingers touching her throat. “Fine. I must say …never had you down for a choker, Lucian. Maybe we should explore that side of you next time we meet to fuck.”

  Lucian gave a disgusted noise. ‘Did you understand me when I said no harm comes to Norah?”

  “I understood.”

  “Good. Now, it’s best if we don’t communicate for a while. I don’t want to be tied to Carmel Price’s murder.”