Nightclub Surprise

by Michelle Love

  “I can’t wait.”

  Ivo felt the sadness overwhelm him as he said goodbye and spent a few minutes trying to console himself before heading back down to the party. He heard some car doors slamming, and checking out of the window, saw, with relief, people were starting to drift away. He waited another ten minutes before going back down to find his father.

  Walter, the façade slipping, was standing alone at the French windows as Ivo put his arm around his father’s shoulders. Walter nodded and Ivo see the strain on his face. “How can she be gone, Ivo? How is that possible?”

  “I don’t know, Dad. It doesn’t seem real.”

  Walter turned to him and studied him. “She was so proud of you, kiddo. We were – and are – so, so proud of who you are, what you’ve become. You did the right thing leaving all this bullshit behind. And Sofia too… At least your mom got to see you settled and happy with the person you were meant to be with.” Walter sighed. “I just wish…I wish I hadn’t wasted time with the divorce…you know, I only agreed to it because I never, ever thought your mom would go through with it.”

  “I know, Dad. I think Mom regretted it too.”

  “We wasted so much time,” Walter said again. He blew out his cheeks and patted Ivo on the back. “Listen, you must want to get back to Sofia…”

  “I can stay as long as you need me, Dad.”

  Walter looked like he was about to argue then, his shoulders slumping, he nodded. “Thanks, son. Just a few days, I promise. Just until I can think straight.”

  Later, Walter went upstairs to sleep in Adria’s bed for the night, and Ivo dealt with the final guests. He was about to lock the doors when he heard a noise from one of the kitchens. Walking to it, he pushed open the door and saw Madison Flynn stacking dishes up on the draining board. She had washed glasses and plates and anything she could find.

  “You know, we have caterers who should be doing that.”

  Madison smiled at him. “Oh, I sent them home. I though you would prefer less intrusion by strangers. I like doing this – it relaxes me.”

  Ivo felt a little irked by this woman’s presence, by her over-familiarity, her confidence. “Well…”

  Madison put down the dishcloth and wiped her hands. “How is your dad?”

  Ivo sighed. “Exhausted, drained.”

  Madison walked slowly towards him. “And you?”

  Ivo backed up a little. “The same. I think we’d like to be alone now.”

  Madison smirked, then very deliberately dropped the strap of her dress down her shoulder. “I could relax you…” In an instant, the silk sheath dress she was wearing had slithered down her body to the floor and she stood naked before him.

  Ivo felt his temper spike. “Get dressed and leave, please. I don’t know who the hell you think you are but…”

  Madison lunged and pressed her lips to his mouth before he could stop her. Ivo jerked his head away just as a camera flash went off in the gloom of the kitchen. Ivo leaped away from Madison and went after the photographer, shouting, “Get your clothes on and get out.”

  Outside the paparazzo was nowhere to be found. “Fuck!” What the hell had just happened?

  Ivo stalked back into the kitchen to see Madison Flynn dressed, her blue eyes huge with fright.

  “Was this you? Did you pay him to take that photograph of us?”

  Madison shook her head. “No, I swear…look, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s just…you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen and…god…look. I’ll go. I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me.”

  She slipped out of the kitchen and Ivo heard the front door close. He rubbed his eyes. Jesus, this was the last thing he needed. What the hell was that all about? And how the fuck did the paparazzo get past his security team? Ivo felt the anger drain out of him and he sat down on the cool tile of the kitchen floor. What a fucking mess. It was too late to call Sofia now but he would do first thing in the morning. If that photograph ended up in the press… It was okay, Sofia knew him in her bones. She knew he would never, ever cheat on her, least of all with a random woman at his own mother’s funeral. Sofia would know that…

  …right?

  In the cab driving back into the city from the Hollywood Hills, Madison Flynn a.k.a. Tamara Rutland grinned to herself. She had to give it to Sofia – Ivo Zacca was gorgeous. Pity she couldn’t persuade him to fuck her – clearly, he wasn’t much like his father, who, the word was, was a man whore of biblical proportions. Still, she got what she had wanted. The dude she had hired to take the picture had sent it to her phone the second after he’d taken it. He’d paid off the security guard at the property a day ahead of the wake. People were so easily bought these days.

  Tamara grinned as she imagined Sofia’s reaction to the photograph. Anger, heartbreak, pain. Betrayal. The paparazzo would be sending it to TMZ or Radar online, maybe even the Enquirer. Even in Paris, they would see it. Tamara hoped more than anything that Sofia would feel humiliated. If she split from Zacca and his protection, it would make it so much easier for Grant to snatch her, bring her back to the States, to their killing club. She might even fall for Grant which would make it so much more satisfying to watch Grant kill her, see the hurt, confusion in her eyes as she died.

  Delicious. She looked at the photograph again. Damn, Ivo Zacca…maybe I’ll try again before I leave Los Angeles. I would love to know what Sofia is getting from you.

  She smiled. Yes, that would be the final revenge – fucking Sofia’s husband and telling her about it as Grant Christo gutted Sofia slowly and mercilessly.

  Tamara could hardly wait.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Sofia hugged Jonas hard before he got into the taxi. It had been such a wonderful few days with him that she was reluctant to let him but finally she released him. Jonas grinned down at her. “Love you, Sis. Promise me you and Ivo will come visit me in New York. I know you hate it but…”

  “No. With you there, of course we’ll come. I’m just so happy were back in each other’s lives, Jon. You are my family.”

  “And you are mine, the only one I care about. I love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  Sofia felt a little tearful as she waved him goodbye. Inside, she called Desiree. “I’m on my way, Desi.”

  “Actually, no, don’t come to gallery. We’ve had a flood in the basement – nothing’s been damaged but the less people getting in the way of the workmen, the better. Sorry, kiddo.”

  “No, that’s okay. Listen, my phone needs charging so I may be out of service in a bit.”

  “I’ll use the hotel’s landline if I need you, bub. Enjoy the time off.”

  Sofia was digging around for a phone charger when her cellphone rang again. It was Clemence. “Are you busy, ma chere? Mirry has deserted me to go on a field trip and I’m bored out of my mind. I’m sitting here like a beached whale.” She sounded so miserable that Sofia felt sorry for her.

  “Of course, I’ll come. Shall I bring pastries?”

  Clemence gave a groan of delight. “Oh yes please…and strong coffee. Very strong. One won’t hurt me or the baby.”

  Sofia chuckled. “You got it. Give me a half hour.”

  It wasn’t until she was at Clemence’s door that she remembered she’d left her cellphone charging at the hotel. She knocked at Clemence’s door.

  “Sofia? It’s open…ahh…”

  Frowning, Sofia pushed her way in to see Clemence bending over the back of a chair, groaning. Sofia put the coffee and bag of pastries down and rushed to her friend. “Clem, what is it?”

  “Baby…it’s coming…”

  Oh god… “I’ll call the ambulance.”

  Clemence grabbed her arm. “No, it’s too late…god… oww, oww, oww, I can feel it coming, Sofia…please help me…”

  Somehow, although her heart was pounding out of her chest, Sofia got Clemence to sit on a floor, while she grabbed towels and hot water. Clemence was pulling up her maternity dress, soaked with amniotic f
luid as Sofia, her hands washed, knelt down. Now wasn’t the time for shyness, she thought, and helped Clemence ease out of her underwear. With a shock, Sofia could see the top of the baby’s head already, and panic must have shown in her eyes.

  “I though…the first time…labor was supposed to be hours long,” Clemence gasped, clutching Sofia’s arm.

  “Well, honey, we don’t have hours, so time to buckle up.” Sofia tried to remember what she had seen about giving birth from television shows. “Now, do you feel like you need to push?”

  Clemence nodded and Sofia took a deep breath in. “Okay, then, so, hold my hands, and brace yourself against the couch back and push down as hard as you can. One, two, three…push! Come on, Clem, harder!”

  Clemence gave a long drawn out scream as she bore down, and Sofia saw the baby’s head move a centimeter. She let go of Clemence’s hands for a moment and checked to see if she could help. The baby’s head was covered in goo but Sofia didn’t think about it. “Okay, so take a few deep breaths and when the need comes again, we’re going to go with it. The baby’s head is most definitely engaged,” she grinned up at Clemence. “I can see the crown of her head and so I reckon we’re almost home.”

  “Trust Ivo’s baby to be early,” Clemence grumbled and Sofia giggled.

  “Right? Okay, sweetheart, you okay? Let’s try and go for another one, okay? Grip my hands.”

  As Clemence pushed, she almost Sofia’s hands under the stress of it but Sofia braced herself, then let go as the baby’s head moved significantly. She eased it out a little, not even slightly phased by the fact she was touching another woman’s vagina. It seemed such a natural, organic situation. Clemence pushed twice more, collapsing exhausted then the baby’s head was out. Sofia supported the head, sliding a towel under Clemence as for the final time, Clemence pushed and Peony Brochu Zacca slid out into the world. Sofia handed her to her mother, both woman crying with happiness now. Clemence cradled her daughter to her chest, kissing her. Sofia wiped the baby’s head for her, marveling at how tiny and perfect she was. Her little cheeks were plump, her little mouth opened in a wide yawn.

  “Oh, you’re tired?” Her mother joked, smiling through her tears. Sofia kissed the top of the baby’s head then Clemence’s cheek.

  “You did it, Clem…you did it.”

  Clemence leaned her head against Sofia’s. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Oh, Sofia, what would I have done without you?”

  Sofia wiped her tears away with her fingers. “You? Clem, you’re Wonder Woman, you would have been fine. I’ll go sterilize some scissors and I’ll take care of the umbilical cord.”

  Clemence pressed her lips to her daughter’s head. “I feel like I need to push again.”

  For a moment, Sofia panicked then relaxed. “That’s probably just the afterbirth. We’ll deal with that then I think we need to get you to hospital.”

  A few hours later, Clemence and Peony were safely installed in a private room in the best maternity hospital in Paris and Sofia was trying to call Ivo. She kept getting voicemail but she asked him to call her back immediately. She didn’t want to tell him his daughter had been born over voicemail.

  When Clemence was asleep, Sofia went back to her apartment to grab the bag she had packed for the hospital visit. She took a detour back to her and Ivo’s hotel room to grab her cellphone, and as she made her way back onto the street, she heard someone calling her. She turned and smiled. “Hey, Felix, how are you?”

  Felix smiled at her. “All the better for seeing you.” He nodded at the bag. “Going somewhere?”

  “Oh, no, it’s not my bag. I’m taking it to the hospital. Ivo’s daughter was born earlier today so I’m just helping out.”

  “Okay…” He looked confused. “I’m sorry, did you say your husband’s child was born?” His eyes dropped to her flat belly and Sofia giggled.

  “Wow, long story. But yes, Ivo’s daughter was born and she’s gorgeous. Look, I do have to get back to the hospital but it was really good seeing you.”

  “Listen,” he took the bag from her, “Let me help you grab a cab and maybe I could take you for coffee afterwards.”

  Sofia shrugged. “Okay.” She was so wired she would find it difficult to rest anyway, and she liked Felix – or Grant’s – company. She was also a little freaked that Ivo hadn’t called her back yet; she needed to vent to someone about everything that had happened.

  Clemence and Peony were both asleep as Sofia crept back into their room, so she put the bag down and closed the door behind her as she stepped back into the hallway. “Both out like a light. Let’s go to the cafeteria.”

  Felix bought them both a coffee, and insisted on getting Sofia some food. “You look like you’re about to drop, sweetheart.”

  She grinned at him as he brought her some soup and a sandwich. “You’re a good guy, Felix…look, I have to come clean about something.”

  “What’s that?”

  She looked guiltily at him. “When I was at your place, I was in your kitchen. Your passport was on the side.”

  He grinned at her. “Snooping?”

  “A little. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Look, yes, Grant is my real name. Felix is the name I write under and the name I tell people who I don’t know to call me. But, I think we are friends by now. So, hello, I’m Grant Christo.”

  She laughed, shaking his hand. “Sofia Amory Zacca. That’s a mouthful.”

  “So, where’s the hubby?” Grant said, sipping his coffee and Sofia’s smile faded.

  “Los Angeles. His mother passed away last week unexpectedly, and he had the funeral and what with his dad…it’s been a trying time.”

  “And now his kid is here too?”

  Sofia nodded. “Clemence - that’s Ivo’s ex-girlfriend – went into labor early and we couldn’t get her to the hospital before the baby was born. So, we toughed it out together – or rather she toughed it out – I was along for the ride.”

  Grant blinked. “Wow. Wow. So, you helped the woman who was having your husband’s baby give birth?”

  Sofia laughed. “When you put it like that, it does sound bizarre, but yes. Clemence is a friend, and I was happy to do it.” She thought back over the birth. “Now that I think about it, it was pretty mind-blowing, but at the time, you just get on with it.”

  “So, you’re a step-mother now?”

  Sofia laughed softly. “I guess I am. Wow.” She looked at her phone then. “Now, if only I could get Ivo to pick up his damn phone, I could tell him he has a daughter.”

  Grant nodded, not saying anything. He and Sofia sat in companionable silence while she finished her food. “Thank you for this,” she said, “You were right, I needed it.”

  “You look like you could use some rest too. How about I take you back to your hotel?”

  Sofia was tired, she realized, more than she thought. “I’ll leave a note for Clemence first. I don’t want her waking to think I’ve abandoned her.”

  Grant watched her scribble a note and then kiss the sleeping woman on the forehead gently, as to not wake her. Sofia Amory was a remarkable woman, he mused. To show that much love to the woman who had borne her husband’s baby - it showed compassion way beyond her years. If I were a different man, I would think it a shame to kill her and take all that goodness out of the world…but I’m not that man. Her loveliness, her beauty, her kindness just makes it all the more fun. Will she beg me for death? I do hope so…

  It amused him to be walking and chatting so easily with her, when all the time he was thinking of how much he would enjoy stabbing her to death, seeing her eyes open wide with the shock and the agonizing pain as his knife drove deep inside her lovely body. He could barely keep himself from touching her, and when, inadvertently, his skin would touch hers, he felt as if a million bombs had exploded inside of him. The only thing that concerned him was that she seemed too happy, too content. He wanted to cause her torment, pain, anguish. Guilt. Yes, yes, that was a good one…with Ivo away, and
he, Grant being here, maybe he could make her uneasy…just a little flirtation at first, easily explainable. Then ramp it up to the point where she became uneasy…god, he loved playing games and when the target was as sweet as Sofia…

  Her cell phone rang and she breathed a sigh of relief. “At last. Excuse me, Fel…Grant, it’s Ivo.”

  “Hey no problem, look I’ll give you privacy.”

  He moved away from her and decided to check his own messages. Tamara had sent him a photograph and when Grant saw it, he almost laughed out loud. Tamara was good, he had to give it to her. The gall of her, getting a picture of her, naked kissing Ivo Zacca at his own mother’s wake. You win this round, Tamara. He wondered how she would use the photograph. He glanced back to where Sofia was sitting, smiling, chatting on the phone, imparting the news of the child’s birth to her husband. The picture would destroy her for sure, but he wondered if Tamara could be persuaded to sit on it for a while. If Ivo didn’t tell Sofia about it, the long it was held over his head, the more cracks would appear in the trust between Ivo and Sofia.

  When they finally took Sofia, what better than for her to think that she had nobody, no-one she could call for help? What if they destroyed her security so that, in the end, she had no hope of being rescued? Grant Christo liked that idea very much. Very much…

  And he knew exactly where to start. He called Tamara back and explained his plan and she started to laugh. “You really are a twisted fuck but that’s why I like you.”

  “So, you think you could do what I asked? Really?”

  Tamara laughed darkly. “It would be my absolute pleasure, believe me. Let’s bring the whole house down.”

  And Grant smiled.

  Chapter Thirty

  Ivo flew back to Paris the next day, leaving Walter behind. His father was still reeling from Adria’s death but at least in L.A. he had his friends around him. He told Ivo he would come over to meet the baby soon, and hugged him fiercely. “I’m so proud of you, Ivo, so very proud.”