His Beautiful Revenge: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Michelle Love

  His father waved a hand. “I don’t believe that for a second and besides, Tara is from our world.”

  “And what world is that?”

  “Wealth. Status. Breeding.”

  Giacomo pushed his chair back, making a disgusted noise. “Norah is the classiest person I know, Papa, and very soon, she’ll be my wife. Do you honestly think money matters to her?”

  “It matters to everyone.”

  Giacomo was still thinking of his father’s words as he drove back from Florence. Switching the engine off, he sat in the car for a long moment, trying to get rid of the tension in his shoulders. It was early evening and dusk was beginning to fall. The villa was lit, soft, warm light coming from a few of the windows. At the perimeter of the grounds, he could see his security guards keeping vigilance. In the evenings, his staff would go back to their own homes after dinner and he and Norah would have the place to themselves.

  Norah …even thinking her name made the tightness in his chest ease, replaced with a certainty. The certainty of love and of destiny. She was his future and no one would ever come between them again.

  He got out of the car and went into his home. The villa was quiet, but as he turned into the hallway, the huge staircase to the second floor in front of him, he saw her. She had lit candles and placed them all the way up the staircase, and now she sat, clothed in a simple white dress, her long, dark hair pulled over one shoulder.

  “Buonasera, il mio amore.”

  “Hello, Giacomo. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Norah sat up and slowly spread her legs, pulling up the dress to reveal that she was naked beneath. A smile spread across Giacomo’s face.

  “You’ve been given an all-clear?”

  “Oh, yes …now, hush that beautiful mouth of yours, come over here, and fuck me senseless, Giacomo Conti.”

  He laughed, tugging at his tie, and went to her, his mouth seeking hers. Her fingers knotted in his dark curls. “God, I missed you, Bella.”

  Her hands were at his fly and suddenly all he could think about was being inside of her, taking her right there, his instincts animal and feral. He pushed up her dress, tugged her legs around his waist, and plunged into her, his hands pinning hers back against the staircase as they fucked, and his cock plunging deep with every stroke, their eyes locked on the others.

  “God, I love you, Giacomo Conti …yes …yes …harder, please, harder …”

  Her soft voice spurred him on, his hips slamming against hers, all reason and sense leaving them as they clawed and pulled each other’s hair, their lips rough against the other’s skin. Giacomo gave a long groan as he came, his cock shooting hot cum deep into Norah’s belly as she shivered and moaned. He didn’t let her rest, scooping her up and carrying her to their bed. Ripping the cotton dress from her shoulders, he kissed every inch of her skin before flipping her onto her stomach and entering her from behind. He bit down on her shoulder as he fucked her and she cried out with pleasure, his cock filling her. She felt unbearably sensitive as it plunged deep inside her cunt. God, he wanted her in every way, all day, all night,.His rough hands on her soft skin and the sound of her gasps and moans in his ears. Giacomo lost himself in her, fucking her until her cunt swelled and throbbed, then he pushed into her ass, feeling the tightness of her on his cock. Norah called his name over and over, smiling up at him, encouraging him to cum on her skin, and moaning with desire as he shot his seed onto her belly.

  “I love you so much,” she whispered as he fucked her for the fifth time, her velvety cunt enveloping his cock once again.

  “Ti amo,” he said, with all the feeling inside him. “Ti amerò per sempre, Norah Reddy. Per sempre.” I’ll love you forever.

  Afterward, she fell asleep in his arms and Giacomo buried his face in her hair, breathing her in. How had he lived before Norah? He couldn’t fathom it.

  Sleep found him quickly, as he was exhausted from lovemaking, but it was an uneasy sleep. The nightmares began almost immediately.

  Their wedding. Thousands of white flowers bedecking the terrace at the villa and all of their friends and family gathered to celebrate them. Norah was an angel in white and her eyes were glued to him, her smile full of joy. She walked down the aisle on Orlando’s arm and had almost reached them when Giacomo felt a cold breeze sweep over him and clouds go across the sun. As Norah approached where Giacomo was waiting, a figure stepped between them. In horror, Giacomo watched as the figure pressed a gun to Norah’s belly and fired repeatedly. At first, she didn’t react, and Orlando seemed not to notice the shooter, but he dropped Norah’s arm and stepped away. Then there was no-one there except Norah and Giacomo. He tried to go to her, but he couldn’t move, and as he watched, spots of red appeared on her wedding dress. Norah looked confused as the blood began to pour from her wounds. She looked at Giacomo. “But I’m pregnant,” she said softly, “I have a daughter …Ferma …Ferma, our daughter …why would anyone do this?”

  She crumpled to the floor and the scene was suddenly awash with a wave of blood. All Giacomo could do was open his mouth and scream and all he could taste was death …

  “Giacomo! Giacomo! Stop …stop …it’s okay. It was just a dream. Stop. You’re hurting me, stop …”

  He opened his eyes and recoiled away from Norah. He had been gripping her wrists tightly, so tightly he could see red marks. He collapsed back against one of the bedposts and sat, panting for air. “God, Norah, scusa …I’m so sorry.”

  Norah, her eyes wide and frightened, reached out a hand to him. “It’s okay, baby, truly. You were screaming …”

  For a second his mind whirled, and he couldn’t make sense of anything. He pressed his fingers into his eyes. “Mio Dio.”

  Norah sat in silence, waiting for him. Her hand stroked his arm gently. He’d hurt her. He opened his eyes and took her hands, studying her wrists.

  “They’re fine, Giacomo. Seriously. I’m more worried about you.” Norah gently extracted one of her hands and touched his face. “How long have you been having nightmares?”

  He sighed. “They started when you were missing and stopped after I knew you were going to be okay. I have no idea why it’s started again.”

  Norah gave him a small, mischievous smile. “Maybe something to do with heightened emotion?”

  His body relaxed then. “Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?”

  “Absolutely sure. Do you want to tell me about the dream?”

  He shook his head. “No, I don’t want to think about it.”

  She crawled over to him and curled herself into his arms. “Then maybe we can do something to distract you.”

  He smiled down at her fondly. “Insatiable.”

  “You betcha.”

  Grayson Harris was used to getting jobs from George Hubert. Hubert called him when he wanted someone dealt with speedily and discreetly, and as long as he was paid upfront, he was happy to do it.

  But lately, he had felt a dissatisfaction with his job. The people he was hired to kill …some of them, he was sure, didn’t deserve to be dealt with that way.

  And then there was Delilah, his granddaughter and the love of his life. Her chocolate brown eyes and merry nature gave him something he could not describe. A new outlook on life? Maybe, he thought to himself now, as he sat down opposite Hubert. That old cliché, but it was true. She made him believe in good again. Was it too late to redeem himself?

  He’d never liked George Hubert, but he knew the other man trusted him to get the job done. It satisfied Grayson that he was the one person Hubert seemed afraid of.

  Hubert handed him a manila folder now. “I need it done quickly and discreetly.”

  Grayson opened the folder and took out the photograph. “A woman?” That was a first—for Hubert and Grayson.

  Hubert didn’t look comfortable and suddenly Grayson realized that maybe this wasn’t a job for Hubert. He knew all about Tara, Hubert’s spoiled bitch of a daughter. He would wager any amount of money that this woman in the photo was Tara’s
ex’s new woman.

  “Put a bullet in her and I’ll make sure you’re paid double your normal fee.”

  Grayson put the folder back on the desk. “I don’t kill innocent women.”

  Hubert sat back, dissatisfied. “Look, normally I wouldn’t ask … triple fee. Come on, man, you don’t even know her. She gets lead in her belly and you get rich. How does that sound?”

  Grayson stared at him. He looked back down at the photograph. God, she was a beauty. Long, dark hair, curvaceous body …chocolate brown eyes.

  He gazed at the picture for a long moment, then gave his answer to George Hubert.

  Tara had been questioned for twenty-four hours and released without charge. She was almost gleeful as she left the station with her father’s lawyer, but back at the house, her father merely nodded. “Fine.”

  “Is the other thing arranged?”

  Her father turned cold eyes on her. “Norah Reddy will be dead soon enough. But you, you little whore, you will spend the rest of your life making this mess up to me and to the family.”

  Tara rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

  She never saw her father’s hand before it slammed into her face. The force of the blow knocked her out of the chair and onto the floor. Before she could make a sound, her father picked her up and threw her across the room. She crashed into a cabinet of fine china, the glass breaking. She slumped the floor and started to sob, wailing as he approached her again.

  He bent down and took her chin between his fingers. “Now, girl, you will start to make this right, so that when Ms. Reddy is murdered, it doesn’t come back to us. Because I swear, Tara, I don’t give a fuck if you are my daughter …if you bring this down on my house, you’ll meet a fate far worse than she does.”

  Zulika opened her eyes and tested herself, searching for the pain. She knew she was on a morphine drip, but still …post-operative pain was a certainty. Yet she felt nothing.

  Shit, am I dead? Then she heard voices—familiar voices.

  “Zully?”

  A child’s voice, followed a man’s deep, mellifluous tones, calling her name.

  Yes, yes, I’m here …

  She blinked and tried to focus as her vision cleared, then she saw them. She saw them and she smiled.

  Ferma. Orlando. Both were grinning like maniacs at her, and she knew without being told what the surgeons had achieved.

  She was cancer-free.

  Orlando had called Norah and Giacomo after the surgery and now he told Zulika that they were coming over for a week to see her. Norah had called and Zulika could tell she was delighted and overwhelmed, even if she remonstrated with Zulika for not telling her about the surgery.

  When Norah arrived at the hospital, she threw her arms around Zulika and the two women hugged for what seemed like an hour. When Zulika drew away finally, both of them were crying.

  “You look wonderful.” Norah sniffed, smiling through her tears and Zulika laughed.

  “Yes, we both do rock the snot.”

  Norah laughed, and Giacomo cleared his throat. “Listen, why don’t we leave you two alone and go grab some coffee?” He bore Orlando and Ferma off to the hospital’s cafeteria.

  “How do you feel? Really?”

  Zulika nodded. “Seriously, so good. Better than I have for months. I think that’s having the cloud lifted away from me mentally as much as it is physically, you know?”

  Norah nodded and grinned. “I do. God, Zul. It’s so good to see you.”

  Zulika studied her friend. “And what about you? You’re glowing.”

  Norah grinned shyly. “All good, I swear. Now, listen, maid of honor, we have some dress shopping to do when you feel up to it.”

  “I’m there. Have you been to the bookstore yet?”

  Nora nodded. “We checked in with Fred this morning. That girl is a force of nature. The place looks great.”

  Zulika nodded. “Yep, we landed on our feet there.”

  “When are you getting out of here?”

  “A couple of days, hopefully. No later than Friday, thank god.”

  Norah grinned. “The food that bad?”

  Zulika snickered. “No, but you know me …I’m fussy.”

  “Well, if you’re up to it, Giacomo and I would like to take you out to dinner when you get out of here.”

  Zulika smiled. “In that case, I’m definitely getting out of here as soon as possible.”

  Zulika was zipping herself into a beautiful red dress. During her sickness, she had lost about sixty pounds from her already slender frame and now she wanted to get her athletic but curvy figure back.

  Orlando, already dressed, was watching her from his reclined deposition on the bed. She grinned at his reflection in the mirror. “You know, you could help.”

  Chuckling, he got up and came over to her, drifting a fingertip down her bare spine and making her shiver with pleasure. She leaned back into his touch for a second, then decided that was a bad idea as her dress hit the floor and he was carrying her back to bed.

  They made love slowly and tenderly, savoring every moment. “We’re going to be so late,” she murmured, then gasped as he entered her, making long, rhythmic strokes as his cock drove deeper inside of her.

  “They won’t mind …they’re probably doing exactly the same thing as us …”

  Zulika laughed and wrapped her legs tighter around his waist. “I bet they are …”

  They were an hour late to the restaurant and as soon as Norah saw them she started laughing. “Don’t worry …we only just got here too.”

  The meal was exquisite and the four friends chatted amiably about the wedding. “So you’ll obviously let me fly you all over myself, right?” Giacomo looked at his friend, who laughed.

  “On this occasion, yes, buddy. I’ll let you spend some exorbitant price on flying my family and me to Italy.”

  “Good. No arguments,” said Giacomo in a tone that made Norah giggle.

  “See, I let you be masterful one time and you think you can do it all the time.”

  Giacomo laughed and kissed her cheek, murmuring something into her ear that made her blush.

  Norah looked radiant, Zulika thought to herself. Absolutely radiant. She was wearing a white cotton dress which glowed against her dusky skin and her dark hair was pulled into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. God, you two will have beautiful kids, she thought as she looked at Norah and Giacomo, their heads bent close together as they flirted with each other. You were made for each other.

  They lingered over coffee, until finally, at just past eleven p.m., Giacomo glanced at his watch. “I hate to be the party-pooper, but I have a meeting at seven a.m.”

  “Boo,” said Norah, but she stood up with him. As they all walked from the restaurant, Orlando put his arm around Zulika’s shoulders. Norah and Giacomo stood outside waiting for them.

  Zulika never saw it coming. There was confusion, people on the street pushing past them, Giacomo’s raised voice, a man who was staring intently at Norah, and then Zulika heard it.

  Pop. Pop. Pop.

  Her ears rang as she recognized them as gunshots. What the hell? Everything seemed to go in slow motion. Norah jerked backward and as she fell, Giacomo caught her and Zulika saw the blood.

  No. No, please, this can’t be happening … There was a buzzing in her ears.

  Giacomo cradled Norah in his arms, sobbing, his hand pressing down on the bullet wounds in her belly. Norah’s eyes were closed and she didn’t respond when Giacomo screamed her name. Zulika saw the shooter—the killer—disappear into the crowds. People were screaming and already she could hear sirens, but it was her best friend’s face she couldn’t take her eyes from. Norah.

  Norah. Wake up.

  Orlando, his face a mask of horror was crouched next to Giacomo and his stricken love, begging Norah to be okay. Zulika fell to her knees. Giacomo looked up at her. “I can’t wake her up.”

  His voice was broken. Zulika felt useless. Numb. Paramedics were there then. That wa
s fast.

  “No pulse.”

  No. No. Don’t you dare die, Norah. Not now …

  “Let’s get to her to the E.R.”

  In a taxi cab following the ambulance, Orlando’s arms tightened around her.

  The emergency room chaos. Please let her be okay …

  Hours of surgery. Hours.

  The surgeon coming to see them. The sadness and regret in his eyes.

  No. No. This isn’t real.

  But it was real.

  Norah was dead.

  George Hubert listened to the message, then put the phone down and went to find Tara. His daughter was in her old bedroom, wearing old sweats, no make-up covering the bruises on her face. He felt no sympathy for her.

  “It’s done.” He said to her and she nodded.

  “Good.”

  George sighed. “No, I mean it’s done. The girl’s dead and so is our relationship. You destroyed what was left of my patience, Tara. Get your stuff. Hugo will drive you back to the city. I don’t want to see you again.”

  He left his daughter staring after him and walked back to his study. It had been a long time that he had known Tara was a liability. So now he’d had enough. She had enough of her own money. She wouldn’t suffer. He just hoped she kept her head and stayed away from Giacomo Conti.

  Because George Hubert was one hundred percent sure his daughter would not survive that encounter.

  At six a.m. the following morning, Giacomo came to get them, his face blank. “Come with me.”

  He led them down into the basement halls of the hospital, passed steam pipes and shadowy closets. He asked them to follow him into a room that was poorly lit, and at first Zulika, her eyes swollen from crying, didn’t see him. When Giacomo flicked the light on, she blinked, then recoiled for a second. “You son of a bitch!”

  It was Norah’s killer. Zulika lost her senses and flew at him, her fingers outstretched to scratch his eyes out.

  “Zul, stop.”

  Zul froze and then turned to see her best friend—her dead but somehow very much alive best friend—step out of the shadows.