by SJ Molloy
Lucca’s business and finances are none of my concern, and I shouldn’t pry, but I can’t help lift the bundle of paperwork and stare at the heading. It’s for a clinical research programme for a cancer trust.
Scrolling across the pages, it’s clear the payments have been going out from one of Lucca’s accounts to this clinical research company. Lucca is generous and kindly helps charitable organisations so that would explain it, but why this type of cancer?
Filed for later.
I place the bundle back in the drawer and open Lucca’s new fountain pen to scroll on the paper.
‘When I can’t be with you to brighten your day, I hope this diamond set pen brings a sparkle to your genius and gives you inspiration.’
‘Tu sei il mio qualcosa di speciale. TIii amo ora e per sempre. Lexi x.’
‘You’re my something special. I love you now and forever. Lexi x.’
This is the same message I had engraved on the expensive pen I gave him in Tuscany. After running my fingers along the pen, I place it in the navy blue box and use the note as wrapping paper. I tape the edges neatly but ensure the scrolling message is decipherable on the top of the rectangular parcel.
Leaving the study, I discreetly place it in Lucca’s briefcase.
I decide to call my mum. It’s time I apologised and mentally note that I must ask Lucca about the cancer research trials as I am genuinely interested, but it’s not important so it can wait.
Flat out across our bed, I watch Lucca go back and forth with various ties and shirts. He holds up a lime green tie and I shake my head wrinkling my nose. Rose had the housekeeper wash and iron our clothes today while we were out, and she organised Lucca’s work wardrobe, so he just needs to decide what to take. We’ve topped our wine glasses, and I’m grateful for the little buzz-kicked courage I have.
“Mum, it’s me.”
“Alexis, sweetheart I’m so happy you called. I was so unsettled the way things were left on Friday. I tried calling you back … I—”
I interrupt her. “Mum, I’m so sorry. I was just so mad, but I should never have said those awful things to you. I’m so sorry.” Twirling the back of my hand and fingers near my mouth fractiously, I hold the phone to my ear with the other.
Lucca looks at me, winking proudly with his sexy dimple smile, which relaxes me a little.
“Alexis, sweetheart, please don’t. There is no need. It’s I who should apologise. Cameron called and enlightened me of your relationship, explaining how safe and happy you are, and confirming your happiness to me. But I have to say it was speaking to the charming Mr. Caruso himself that reassured me. I now know you are loved, safe, and protected. He sounds like a true gentleman. You’re very lucky, Alexis.”
“Wait, you spoke to Lucca? When?” My eyes burn right through him, and he playfully lifts his eyebrow and one side of his lip revealing the devilish dimple again. Sitting upright now, she has piqued my interest.
“He called me on Friday when you went out with Hazel. Cameron gave him my number. Anyway, no matter. The point is I had a long chat about him with Casey, and then with Lucca himself, and I feel so much more at ease with your situation. He seems to be a sensible man and he sure as hell loves you. I’m looking forward to meeting him, and of course, seeing you, my darling girl. I have to say I did feel sick to the core wondering what sort of mess you have gotten yourself in, but as it happens, Lucca put my mind at ease and Casey helped too. She has nothing but great things to say about him.”
Direct, clear, and concise. This is not my mother.
“Oh did he now?” I crease my brow and firm my lips to form the “I’m not surprised” look towards my charming Italian god, who never fails to amaze me.
“Yes, he did. Such a wonderful man you have there. I have some reprieve from the clinic, so I’m staying back at home with your grandparents while I finish my art course. I want to spend as much time with you both as possible.”
“Mum, is that such a good idea? I mean, I want to see you, but maybe it’s not a good idea having so much time away from the clinic just in case …” Propping myself up, feeling nervous, I reach over and swirl my fingers over the embellished design carved into the headboard.
“Just in case what, Alexis? Spit it out. You think I’ll have an episode, don’t you? Are you ashamed of me?” Panic rising in her voice causes me to stop tracing over the wood.
“No, I’m not ashamed of you. I love you. I just worry about you.” I twirl my hair around my finger and chew the inside of my cheek.
“Well, you need to stop fretting. Casey is coming to visit soon, so I will be able to talk to her, and it’s my job to worry about you, not the other way around. You’ll make yourself ill worrying about me.”
Ironically, she has a point, but I feel responsible for her wellbeing. She’s much more vulnerable and fragile than I am. We chat a little longer than we usually do because I have her in a good mood. I ask after my grandparents and she tells me about her painting classes. After telling her I love her and will see her on the weekend, we hang up.
That wasn’t as bad as I thought.
“Lucca, can you come here a minute?” I call to his dressing area as he saunters through.
“You and your mum okay now?” he asks, rolling a belt up and slipping it into his case.
“You know fine well we are, so spill.” Lifting my brow, I cross my arms over my chest and tap my upper arm with my index finger.
“Spill what?” He’s masking the amusement in his voice.
“What did you bribe her with?” I ask sternly.
He laughs, grinning widely, and puts his hand on his heart. “I am wounded.”
“And I’m serious.” I sit upright moving to the edge of the bed.
“I did not bribe her. I convinced her how much I love you and how good we are for each other. It took a bit of work, but I did not want you going up there feeling the way you did. I also spoke with your grandpa, and I can see why you adore him. He really loves you, but you know that, right?”
He has me smiling again.
“I do know, and I love him too. You’ll have some competition when we go up there because I don’t leave his side.” I smirk.
“Well, I love a challenge.” His hand travels under the shirt I’m wearing to cup my ass, pulling me in closer to him.
“I love you so much, thank you for speaking with her. I think I might call Casey at some point just to ask if she thinks it’s a good idea her being back at home.”
“I would do anything for you. You make everything worth fighting for in my life and keep me very much alive.” He places a loose curl behind my ear while I lazily yawn. “Hmmm … you ready to go to bed?”
He pulls the sheets back and slides me into bed. Locking up and turning the lights off, he climbs in beside me, spooning me so close and gentle that I drift off into the most relaxing sleep I’ve had since being in the farmhouse in Tuscany.
A featherlike stroke over my navel to my groin wakes me up out a deep sleep. “Hmmm … what time is it?” I groan.
“Early, but I need to go to the airport soon. Marco is picking me up.”
Sighing, I’ve become very needy with his inevitable departure. “I was hoping we would have an extra few hours together before you need to go.” Turning around, I wrap my arms around his neck, still wearing his shirt from last night.
“I woke you up a little early to give me time ...” he kisses my forehead, cheek, and lips “... for this.” He rolls me onto my back and trails his hands up my inner legs followed by his lips, kissing my hot skin until his lips meet my pulsing sex.
He makes sure I remember his touch long after he has to go.
After an amazing early morning orgasm, he lifts the shirt off me and keeps my arms above my head as he presses his body to mine, entering deep inside me.
Horny sleepy sex.
No asking.
No begging.
Just claiming and delivering, until we release together and hold onto to each other, ca
lming ourselves quietly. A stray tear escapes and rolls down my cheek. Lucca wipes the tear with his thumb.
“Hey, it is only a few days. Then I will be back before you know it.”
“I’m just going to miss you. I thought I would be okay with this, but now I wish I was coming. Although, I do like all the sex you’ve treated me with.”
“You would be getting the sex regardless, baby. You will just need to stay busy until I am back. Suzanne might call you to check if you need anything. Keep your phone on so I can speak to you every day. I would rather you did not drive, so Marco or Peter will take you anywhere you need to go. Remember to call Mamma back about the wedding plans and think of a date while I am away. The sooner you become Mrs. Caruso, the better.”
I shower with Lucca, even though it’s early, then I watch him get dressed in a sharp, black designer power suit. The quality material fits his broad shoulders and muscular body superbly and does nothing to contain my need for him right now. His dark, wavy hair curls at the edge of his crisp white shirt collar. His eyes are electric, and his long, black eyelashes compliment the deep tone of his suit.
He fixes his cufflinks and tie, and when he turns around fully, my mouth nearly drops to the floor. “What’s wrong? You do not like it?”
“Hell no, I love it. You look very sexy and hot. Hold on a minute.”
I walk into his dressing area and come back with a different tie. I kneel on the end of the bed and unravel the beautiful pale blue silk tie he’s wearing, then wrap a black, grey and pink striped tie around his neck and begin to knot it.
“What is wrong with the blue one? It is my favourite.”
“It’s my favourite too, but it accentuates your beautiful crystal-blue eyes, so you’re not wearing it,” I say earnestly.
Catching him off guard, he laughs. “Really?”
“You know fine well how much I love your eyes, and paired with that tie you’re mesmerising, so I’d rather you keep this one and wear it just for me.” I’m turning into a possessive freak.
He leans over and runs his fingers through my hair, clenching a handful before kissing me passionately. “Deal, but I promise my eyes are just for you.”
Inhaling his sexy masculine scent of musk, wood, and citrus, I’m regretting my decision to stay here. I hate the thought of him being around other women—professional women who are powerful and sexy.
Oh God.
On our final kiss in the hallway, I jump up and straddle Lucca’s waist, hanging onto his neck at the front door. When I hear the car door open and realise Marco is standing there grinning at us, I slide down and try to look decent.
“You keep that bed warm for me, and keep your phone on. I love you, dolcezza. Please stay safe for me.” He rubs his thumb across my swollen lips from where he has been kissing me this morning.
“I love you too. Safe flight, hurry back to me.” Moisture coats my eyes as I watch him walk off.
Lifting his bags, he winks at me and then he’s gone. I’m all alone again. Wrapping my arms around me, I wonder how the next few days will pan out without him here. I close the front door, lock it, and head back to the bedroom. I can smell his lingering aftershave all the way upstairs into the suite, and it’s intoxicating. I fill my lungs with his scent.
I decide to go back to bed and sleep for a bit, still exhausted from our busy weekend. Leaving my robe off, I put his shirt back on just to feel him near my body then cosy under the covers like a lovesick teenager with his blue tie sitting on the pillow next to me.
Chapter 19
Uprising
Michael Parks
Rubbing his temple, Michael checks the departure board and curses.
He missed a flight from London Heathrow to Glasgow International. Although they are frequent at this time of the morning, he hasn’t booked a seat, hoping he’ll be lucky.
Michael decided it was time to change his appearance, so his crooked teeth have been replaced by a not so respectable backstreet dentist. He paid cash with the drug money his mother Mary stashed away for him to have a complete new set of teeth implants, which he wouldn’t have bothered with before but he’s reluctant to leave any trace of his old self other than his scars caused by Lexi while trying to escape all those years ago in Australia.
His evil green eyes have been temporary camouflaged by tinted grey contacts. It’s been a busy week since arriving in the United Kingdom with a lot of seedy prep work being done as far away from the public eye as possible.
He has managed to transform his facade and looks almost like any other business traveller. Keeping tinted glasses on, he approaches British Airways first and to his surprise, he has the last available seat on the next flight.
Handing over his fake passport under the name of Kyle Saunders, he pays for the flight with cash. He could easily undress the sweet smelling red-lipped busty blonde with his natural greedy green eyes, but he doesn’t want to draw any attention, so he barely makes eye contact as he adjusts himself behind the desk.
He orders a black coffee, a muffin, and a bacon roll for breakfast then wanders into the nearest kiosk to purchase a newspaper and painkillers. He pulls his suitcase behind him.
Picking up a newspaper and turning the first page, he’s not watching where he’s walking and collides with the hard chest of a tall, dark gentleman dressed in a striking designer suit and a pink and grey tie.
“I do apologise, please excuse me,” The smart looking businessman gestures in an identifiable Scottish accent with Italian flavour.
“Watch it, man,” Michael hisses in his Australian accent. He barges past the businessman to pay for his goods before checking his luggage in. The businessman shakes his head at the stranger’s rudeness but continues onwards to meet his driver and phone his girl who he left just a few hours ago.
Once seated on the flight, Michael lifts the manila envelope from his hand luggage to scan over it again. Satisfied no one is paying attention, he discreetly scrolls though all the facts that Damien Thomson, the unconventional investigator, filed for him.
There is enough information on Grace Elizabeth Robertson to know where she is situated in Scotland. His intention is to hire a car under the name of Kyle Saunders. Then he’ll purchase a used car by cash under the name of Uuka Benadi. Uuka is a South African name meaning “uprising,” which Michael deems appropriate considering his intentions.
Frustratingly, he still can’t find anything on Alexis, Grace’s daughter.
The girl will be alive, he knows this for sure. She’s smart and will be staying away from the public eye, living a private life, as will the brother, Cameron. They were smart as children and if they have any sense, they should always feel threatened, especially if they have received any prior warning about his release. Michael scratches his nail over the scar on his wrist in contemplation. If they have sense, they should be hiding, he imagines.
This journey may be a lot more challenging than he initially thought.
Weighing his options, he toils with the best approach. He could approach Grace Robertson for the information he needs or have Alexis lured to him like blood to a shark. In Grace’s case, honey to the bees, but he would jeopardise his operation and chance to take Alexis.
Grace is not his priority and she would recognise him, even cloaked behind his new appearance. Then there is his obvious Australian accent.
Sharing a cell for many years at the Australian prison with a South African immigrant has become useful. He has managed to copy his accent successfully, and he can easily pass for South African as a result.
He needs to keep a low profile and be clever and patient. There is also the boy to consider, the brother who again has been difficult to trace. He wonders if their names are changed by deed poll perhaps, or they have had legal representation helping to maintain their privacy.
Closing his eyes and grinding his new sensitive teeth, he brings his focus back to the inevitable. The time has come to stalk his prey, claim his worth, and reincarnate demons past. Revenge
is sweet. He can almost taste it as he runs his tongue across his bloody gums.
Damien was asked to go over and above his initial agreement for this private investigation brief for a substantial monetary increase. He has proved his worth and earned his respectable fee by setting Michael up with a casual job interview, a local job in the area he wants to survey.
Working underground, Damien also managed to arrange the required weapons, various drugs, another fake passport and credit cards, two new mobile phones, a tracking device, and various tools Michael requested, all of which will be awaiting him in a safety deposit box in Glasgow Town Centre. It’s a pity Damien won’t enjoy his respectable fee—he knew too much and had to be taken care of … permanently.
The headlines in London yesterday claimed Damien’s recent death to be a suicide. He was notorious for being involved with illegal drug smuggling and underground gangs were hunting him down. Although a post-mortem has not been carried out and investigations are underway, the police have made a statement saying nothing has been confirmed yet.
He was found dead in his car by a riverbank, and further investigations are underway. They’re hoping to fit another jigsaw piece into the on-going perplexed puzzle of one of the UK’s biggest drug trafficking operations. Damien is a little fish in a big pond, but they’re hoping to find some links to the untouchable underground group.
It was just by chance Michael met a few of the gang members associated with the underground drug scene when he had his second visit with Damien in a dark alley outside of a strip club in London’s Soho district. When Damien was called away to deal with an uncooperative client, Vladimir the Russian—who delivered a parcel of crack to Damien—was kind enough to enlighten Michael of the danger surrounding Damien. In regards to the close watch on him by the police, it was risky for Vladimir being there doing business with him.
It was then Michael had the foresight to use Damien for his contacts, but paid Vladimir a substantial amount to take care of him and make sure it looked like a suicide, keeping it clean without a trace.