“What…?” This was all a little too much to take in. What did he mean? Take over the company, or the other stuff? And what was he on about loyalties?
“He knows that you’ve been seeing the girl,” he whispers simply, proving to me that even from jail, my dad had eyes everywhere. “He knows that you’re hesitant.”
I sat there in shock for a few seconds, while he simply stared at me. My heart was pounding, my head racing, did he need an answer now?
“Just give it some thought.” He stood up and started to walk from the room. “But soon enough, you’re going to have to decide who you are, and what you want from life.”
There was a threatening undertone to his voice, one that told me the decision might not all be mine, that they might not actually let me walk away from all of this…
*****
Bella
“I don’t understand.” I cried out to my phone in utter frustration. What the hell had gone wrong? Why had Enrico suddenly stopped talking to me?
“Maybe it’s because you gave him what he wanted?” my sister replied cruelly, making me regret confiding in her. I’d only done it because I knew how much more experienced she was with the workings of a male mind. I should have known that she was going to be a complete bitch about it…
“It can’t be that though.” I didn’t want to keep telling her my story, but there was no one else around to damn well listen to me. It was Pru, or no one. “We had sex, then he drew me…”
“Still weird, by the way,” she couldn’t resist jumping in.
“…and we’ve been texting and talking ever since. It’s only been since Thursday that he’s stopped.” I’d gone over and over it in my mind, and I couldn’t think of anything to explain this sudden change. There was nothing that I’d said that could have put him off.
“Dad’s pissed off with you,” she carried on, digging the knife in deeper. “He only told you to pretend to like the guy, he didn’t tell you to fall for him.” Luckily our parents only knew a little bit, and that was only because I’d been forced to confess. They’d been wondering why I was so unhappy, and I had to tell them something.
“I know.” I sighed deeply. My father had been praising me, thinking that I was the only smart one in the family, the only one to see through the Abattelli family, but then I’d let him down for falling for Enrico.
“Look,” Pru moved closer to me, throwing her arm over my shoulder in an unusually affectionate gesture. “Men are shits. They all are.”
I felt a tear trickle down my face at her words. I didn’t want to be at the receiving end of a guy treating me like rubbish – especially not one that I cared so deeply for, that I’d been so wrong about over and over again.
“Do you really think I ended all of those engagements?” she finally continued, in a sad voice.
“What do you mean?” I gasped. I’d always seen Pru as this strong, independent woman that tossed men aside when she grew weary of them, and as much as I mocked her for it, I was always a little jealous. But now, I was seeing a whole new side to her.
She closed her eyes for a few seconds, gathering herself before continuing. “I always act like I’m the one who does the dumping, but I’m not.” She sighed deeply, as if this was hard for her to say. “I get clingy, needy, jealous.” Wow, I could never imagine my overly confident sister being that way. “I push them away; they get sick of me.”
“I…” I didn’t know what to say, so I hugged her tight, praying and hoping that this guy, whoever she was with now wouldn’t treat her that way. I could see now that she was vulnerable too, that she had walls just like me, and I wanted better for her.
“So I know how you feel, okay?”
“Yes,” I answered quickly, realizing that this moment of brutal honesty would change us forever. I already felt like we were closer, and that maybe… just maybe, we might start working on the same team.
If a better relationship with my sister came out of all of this mess, then there would be at least one silver lining.
“Just forget about him, okay?” she offered me one final piece of advice, and I nodded agreeably, even though I knew wouldn’t be quite that simple…
*****
Enrico
Bella had stopped trying to call, and I couldn’t help but wonder why. Sure, it was understandable because I hadn’t been answering, but it stung all the same.
I just couldn’t. I couldn’t deal when I wasn’t sure where my future lay.
Of course, I knew what I wanted to do, but this wasn’t just about me. I had so many expectations weighing on me, and that was the killer. Boris and the rest of my dad’s men were on my back all the damn time, trying to get me to take his place. They kept promising me money and power, which wasn’t tempting me, but the fact that it would kill my dad if I didn’t follow in his footsteps, was.
My dream was to be with Bella, to be an artist, but I didn’t think I was good enough for it. I thought that the Abattelli name dictated my future, and I wasn’t sure that I could escape it.
I was being torn in a million different directions, and I had no idea which way I should turn.
I wished I had someone that I could turn to for advice. Someone that could help me. Without a mum or any siblings it was difficult, and my dad had ensured that all of my friends were his friends. Looking back, even when I was in high school, he’d pushed all my friends away, leaving me with no one.
He’d manipulated me my entire life, and now I was a byproduct of that.
But even as I knew that, I didn’t know how to shake it off. It was maddening.
*****
Bella
It had taken me a few weeks, but I’d finally gotten to a place where I could get out of the house and act like normal. I’d been utterly floored by Enrico, but now I was moving past that.
Sure, I wasn’t over him – I didn’t think I would be for a very long time – but I was moving on, and that was something.
As predicted, myself and Pru were becoming increasingly close. We could both see how huge the walls were that we’d built around ourselves, and the effect that had caused on everything else, and we were trying to break them down, to be more for one another.
I hated everything that had happened, but I was glad for that one reason.
“Shall we go to lunch today?” Pru asked me, in a routine that was becoming increasingly common for us.
Our parents didn’t know yet, but she’d dumped her latest fiancé – herself this time. She realized that he wasn’t right for her, and that she’d only been staying because she was afraid of another failed engagement.
Luckily they were distracted anyway. Dad had found someone else to merge his business with – someone genuine this time – and that was keeping them both very busy, leaving me and Pru to sort out our own lives once more. The only difference was this time we weren’t alone. We had each other.
“Sure,” I grinned. “Where are you thinking? The Italian?” We generally always went to the same place, so I wasn’t sure why I was asking really.
“Um, no.” She seemed oddly distracted. “I think we should go to this new little bistro…”
“Sure, whatever,” I replied, checking my appearance in the mirror. Even that looked different these days. The pinched expression, the too much makeup, the prissy pinned up look… it was all gone. I was a new, freer, more casual me, and it was kinda nice to look at.
I was even starting to write. Just a little bit, but that was enough to make me feel happier.
Of course, I’d kept this to myself. I hadn’t even told Pru. I didn’t want anyone to know in case I failed. I would tell the world once I was certain that it was something I was good at, something I could actually succeed with. But I still had it all the same.
As we walked along, we chatted effortlessly, making me wonder why we’d wasted so much of our lives at one another’s throats. It was so silly looking back now.
But by the time we arrived at the restaurant, I couldn’t help but notice th
at Pru was acting increasingly weird.
“Okay, what’s up?” I eventually asked. “Do you have a new boyfriend or something?” I was suspicious; there was definitely something on her mind.
“No, of course not!” she exclaimed, far too dramatically. “There’s nothing.”
I stared at her for a few seconds, trying to make her crack, but she refused to meet my eye. In the end, I turned my attention back to the menu, deciding that she could tell me in her own time.
If she had someone, then I was happy for her.
“Okay,” she finally conceded. “I’ll tell you…”
But before she could get her sentence out, a familiar masculine voice broke out, grabbing our attention. “Bella?” he asked.
I turned to face him, taking in a sharp breath at the sight of him. It was amazing how deeply he could affect me, even now after I thought I’d begun to move on. He was just so damn gorgeous; he was almost painful to look at.
“Enrico?” I gasped, shooting Pru a look. Her guilty expression told me that this was what she’d been going to say, that she knew about this and was a part of it. “What’s going on?”
“I have something for you.” He smiled at me, sending my heart fluttering wildly. That smile would always get me, no matter how much I hated him.
He handed me a piece of paper, and as my eyes fell to it, my entire foundation shook. It was the painting of me, the one that he’d done all those weeks ago, finished, and it was beautiful.
All the arguments that I’d stored up for this exact moment, fell off my lips as I gazed at his work.
“Wow,” I finally said. “I love it.”
He’d captured something gorgeous in me, something cute and vulnerable, something I hadn’t even known was within me. It was the exact way that I wanted him to see me, and I couldn’t believe that he did.
It was almost too much.
Tears sprung up in my eyes, which I tried to blink away, but unfortunately this made them start to spill out.
“Bella?” he asked again, drawing my attention back to him. This time, when I went to meet his eyes, he was on one knee on the ground in front of me.
“Oh my…” I threw my hands over my mouth in shock.
I glanced over to Pru, looking for some help, but she was nodding enthusiastically at me. I could see in her eyes that she was trying to communicate with me that this was right. That it didn’t matter that it was quick, or that things had gotten messed up, and from her that was hugely important. She knew more about love than anyone I knew, and if she felt it was right… and if deep inside I knew that it was right, then it was probably right.
“Bella,” Enrico started once more. “We’ve been through more than most, and we’ll go through lots in the future I’m sure. But we’re strong. Together we’re strong, and I believe that we can do it.” He sent me a teary grin, and I felt my cheeks growing increasingly wet. “I think we can make each other better people. I think we can give each other the world. So I guess what I’m asking is will you make me the happiest man alive? Will you be my wife?”
His words touched me deeply inside, and I could feel myself melting. “Yes,” I gasped. “Of course I will.”
Then he picked me up and spun me around as we all broke out in a mini celebration.
*****
Epilogue
Enrico
One year later…
To say that our journey had been difficult was a massive understatement. Bella’s parents were angry that we’d eloped, my dad was furious that I didn’t want the business, and because of that we’d faced all kinds of financial struggles… but we were getting there.
Together.
“When are we meeting Pru and Brian?” I asked her from the other room in our tiny apartment.
A lot of things had changed for all of us. Pru had finally found the true love of her life, I had gained some success with my art career, and Bella had received a five book publishing contract for her romance series that was loosely based on us and all that had happened.
We were getting there, slowly but surely.
“In an hour or so,” she called back, causing me to hop up from the sofa where I was sitting to go and join her.
“That gives us plenty of time…” I strolled up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist and placing kisses down her neck.
“Oh yeah?” she replied, rolling her head to one side. “For what?”
“For more baby making.” I murmured against her skin. We’d decided to start our own family a little while ago, and we’d been doing plenty of trying ever since!
She spun around to face me, pulling me in for a deep and passionate kiss. I immediately picked her up, wrapping her legs around me so that she could get a good feel of just how excited she made me. Even after a year of marriage, the honeymoon phase hadn’t passed. I still wanted her just as much as I did on that very first day.
“Oh God, you feel good,” she groaned against my lips, showing me that she felt just the same way about me.
That was enough to make me toss her backwards on the bed, before hovering over her.
“I love you, you know,” I said seriously. I wanted to tell her every single day, I never wanted her to forget how deeply I felt for her. After such a confusing road to get here, I needed her to really understand that I’d always be there, no matter what.
“I love you too,” she smiled sincerely.
Then, I began tugging at her clothes, needing her naked, and she was pulling at the material covering me too, just as needy.
As I plunged into her, and I watched her arch her back in pleasure, I couldn’t believe how lucky I was, she was the most beautiful woman on the entire planet. And she wanted me.
“Enrico?” she panted beneath me as I moved. “I have something to tell you.”
“What?” I moaned, wondering if this was essential to tell me right now, right in this moment, just as I was getting into it.
“I did a test today. I’m already pregnant,” she announced, with an excited edge to her voice.
“What?” I screeched, stopping what I was doing. “Are you serious?”
She flushed eagerly and nodded beneath me. “I’m serious. Our family is going to be complete at least.”
“Oh my God.” I pulled her tightly in for a hug. “That’s amazing. Just think… all from that one date…”
And then we burst into laughter, remembering the bizarre way that we’d met, and all that it had led to.
“To the future.” I smiled and kissed her.
“To the future,” she replied.
THE END
Bonus Story 29/40
Curating a Billionaire
Amos
When I first got a look at the artist Lora Zombie, I was initially entranced by her blue hair and the way she painted with the tips of her toes. I knew immediately that her work was more than art—it was spiritual, transcendent, and surreal. Upon meeting her at her gallery at Gagosian I knew that one day her work would be worth millions.
The image that created the controversy of my life was called Deviled Legs. As I recall, the pair of legs in the painting were white with red leggings, red heels, lying against a purple and black backdrop.
“What inspired you to paint Deviled Legs?” I asked her, sipping from my glass of brandy.
“I was inspired by the woman,” she said. “Because woman is monster.”
That was all Lora Zombie ever said to me, unless you can count her loud cackle after my offer to buy Deviled Legs for a hundred thousand dollars as communication. To this day I’m not sure if she laughed because she thought that her art was worth nothing, or if that someone she knew that the piece would come to be known as one of the most moving and provocative images in contemporary art. In any case, she did not accept the offer.
Now three years after that night at Gagosian I stand in a small feminist gallery in Downtown Culver City that doesn’t even have a name. I’m staring at Deviled Legs, slack jawed, with yet another glass of brandy
in my hand. The curator of this quaint exhibit is a five foot three blonde with coke-can thick glasses. She might actually be cute for a wannabe Los Angeles Millennial if she applied some make-up and tried to perk up her breasts.
However, I’m not here to judge the help. I’m here because I am literally baffled at how this dump of a gallery could have possibly acquired an original Lora Zombie. I’ve been staring at Deviled Legs so closely; trying to figure out of it is a potential replica or rip-off before I steal it.
I’ve tried paying fair price for art enough times to know that when something is priceless no amount can really suffice. Needless to say, collecting fine art is not so much a hobby for me as much as it is an addiction. With this opening more popular than some major gallery openings I’ve been too, I’m still the only moderately dressed person in the whole place. Hipsters surround me, young pseudo-intellectuals who think they understand art, but really only wish they did.
“You seem to really love this one,” a female voice says. I can’t help but raise my nose before even laying eyes on the speaker. Before listening to this woman, I down the last of the brandy and slow turn to my left. Surprisingly, it’s the petite curator, looking up at me and nudging the loose spectacles closer to her forehead.
“Lora Zombie is one of my all time favorites,” she says, unable to pull her gaze away from my face. I am the type of man that exudes wealth, glamor, and sex. I know this because I’ve heard it from women all over the world, and these traits have been my sole objectives for my entire life.
“You have great taste,” I say. Even though this little socialite doesn’t stand the slightest chance with me, I can at least slightly respect someone who shares my appreciation for good art.
In the Arms of the Dragon Princes Page 91