For Angelo (Full-Length Standalone Italian Billionaire Romance)

by Marian Tee

  But still he remained unmoving and silent.

  She bit her lip hard as she looked at him. He had his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him, and his gaze focused on the windows – away from her.

  Her fallen angel, she thought painfully.

  And he wanted to go.

  “Please.” She couldn’t stop trying one last time even though she knew she shouldn’t, knew someone like her wasn’t really for someone like him.

  But all he said was her name.

  “Lane.”

  She wanted to weep.

  Lane.

  She was just Lane now.

  And she just couldn’t take it, she just couldn’t make herself give up—

  “Look at me, please!” She took hold of his face with both hands and forced him to look at her.

  Angelo’s gaze clashed with hers.

  “Please—” Pain engulfed her, and she could no longer speak. Her hands fell, and she could only plead to him with her eyes, and it was those eyes that stopped Angelo from speaking.

  She had been right when she thought he was going to send her away.

  He had.

  But he could no longer do it.

  How could he when she was looking at him like she believed that in the end, she deserved to be thrown away?

  “Okay.”

  She stared at him, as if unable to believe what she was hearing.

  “I’m saying,” Angelo said tensely, “I’m not sending you away.”

  But Lane continued to stare at him, and Angelo let her, realizing that it was her way of convincing herself.

  “You can touch me if you think it would help you believe this is real.”

  Oh. Lane started, recognizing the words. They were the very same thing he had spoken at the bus stop. Her eyes flew to him. This was real then?

  And almost as if he heard her question, he took hold of her hand and brought it to his mouth.

  He pressed the softest kiss to her fingers. “Does this seem like something a man who wants you to go would do?”

  Oh.

  He wasn’t going to send her away.

  He was letting her stay – even when he knew the truth about her.

  The truth made her body shudder with relief, and Lane’s heart threatened to shatter. “I promise I won’t cause you any trouble.” Her voice was hoarse with unshed tears.

  “You’ll never trouble me.” His was calm and strong, just like what she would expect from a fallen angel like him.

  She choked out, “I wish I wasn’t sick.”

  Releasing her hands, Angelo shook his head, saying quietly, “It’s not your fault you are, tesoro.”

  Her chest tightened with pain, but oh, it was the good kind of pain, pain that she would never get enough of.

  She whispered brokenly, “I t-thought I’d never hear you call me that again.”

  A smile formed over his lips as he said gently, “It means darling…and you are that, my Lane.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek.

  “My darling.”

  And the tears no longer stopped, running down silently as she whispered the only thing she could think of saying. “T-thank you.”

  He smiled at her, and as he wiped the tears away, he told her, “Don’t be.”

  She started feeling warm and fuzzy.

  “I intend to punish you for the trouble you caused.”

  Oh. “Angelo.” But she said his name like she was still thankful, and she was.

  Her fallen angel had accepted her.

  ****

  Angelo had a dinner tray brought to Lane’s room, and he kept her company as she ate her dinner. When he stood up to leave, murmuring that it was time for her to rest, Lane impulsively caught hold of his hand.

  Angelo raised a brow.

  She heard herself say, “I’m, umm, afraid of being alone.”

  “Is that so?” Angelo’s voice was drily amused.

  “Uh huh.” But she didn’t meet his gaze as she continued with the lie. She waited tensely for his answer but was only met with silence. She peeked at him, and that was when she saw that he was already taking off his shoes and socks.

  And then he was getting into bed with her, and Lane’s heart jumped to her throat.

  Angelo pulled her to him, his hot, hard chest pressing against her back. The strength and power in his body was almost tangible, making her feel feminine and alive. His scent, an irresistible mix of something sensual and elegant – like chocolate and moonlight – surrounded her.

  It was exciting, comforting, terrifying, and beautiful.

  She wished this moment would never end.

  “Thank you,” she blurted out in the darkness.

  His arms tightened around her. “Go to sleep.” His voice was gruff but she didn’t mind, not when she could feel him smiling against her hair.

  Her eyes drifted closed.

  “Thank you again.”

  “You don’t have to thank me, tesoro.”

  “I do.”

  “No, you don’t.” Before she could ask, he said silkily, “Because I’ll punish you for this, too.”

  Her eyes flew open. “P-punish?”

  “For making me do this.”

  “Sleep?” she gasped incredulously.

  “For forcing me to go to bed with my clothes on—” Angelo’s chagrin was evident in his voice as he finished, “—with a girl I want to fuck.”

  “Oh.”

  “I can hear you thinking.”

  “I’m not.”

  “It’s probably a masochistic thought, too.”

  She twisted and cringed because he was right.

  Angelo sighed. “Go on. You probably won’t let me sleep until you ask whatever it is you want to ask.”

  She blurted out, “Am I the first?”

  “No.”

  Her heart writhed.

  “There was only one other.”

  More pain pinched her heart. “The girl you told me about before?”

  Instead of answering her, he said, “You’re unbelievably masochistic.”

  She turned red.

  “But I have to say, it’s effective.”

  She blinked in confusion, asking, “Effective at what?”

  “Arousing me.”

  “Angelo!”

  Grinning, Angelo pulled her more tightly against him and simultaneously pressed himself harder against her. She stiffened and audibly caught her breath, and Angelo chuckled, knowing she had felt his arousal.

  “Just focus on that, tesoro, and stop thinking about the past, and go to sleep.”

  And eventually, she did, but unfortunately the same wise words did not work on him.

  Angelo lay awake, Lane’s soft, voluptuous body making it one of the longest nights of his life. But more than that, he thought about what he had warned her against.

  He thought of the past, and now, whether he liked it or not, the past and present were once again intertwined.

  He had thought he would never allow anyone like Jaike enter his life.

  And yet here he was, doing the one thing he had sworn he would never do again.

  He was picking up the pieces that someone else broke, and he couldn’t help feeling, believing, that one day, when all the pieces of her were back together—

  She would leave him.

  Just like Jaike had.

  ****

  Angelo left Lane’s bed at the crack of dawn, moving silently and carefully so he wouldn’t wake her up accidentally. After a quick shower and breakfast, he provided instructions for his staff, ensuring that last night’s incident would not be repeated.

  Before leaving for his meeting, he headed back up, wanting to check on Lane. His phone vibrated in his pocket on his way to her room, and when he saw who it was, Angelo became still.

  He answered it after several rings, saying simply, “Jaike.”

  “Hey. Angelo.” Her voice was the same sweet melodious sound he remembered, but unlike before, all it did now was resurrec
t the most painfully bittersweet memories.

  There was a long pause, and her unease was evident even over the phone.

  Finally, she said, “I’m sorry for calling you out of the blue.”

  “I don’t mind.” Angelo surprised himself by managing to speak levelly.

  “Ever since I found out you accepted the mentorship in CU, I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

  He heard himself say, “I hope that drove your husband crazy.” Because that was what she was now. A woman married to the only man who owned her body and soul, even when she had been wearing Angelo’s ring.

  Jaike chuckled. “Yes. It did.”

  “Good.”

  And then it became awkward again.

  Suddenly, she said, “We haven’t talked for years.” Her breath hitched. “Since I left your house. You r-remember?”

  “Err…yes. I remember.” A humorless laugh escaped him. Was she fucking kidding? Did she really think he would forget? She might think that he had not loved her the way he should, but he had loved her the only way he knew how.

  “I always felt…” There was another pause. “I don’t think it’s fair or right for me to say this on the phone. Can we meet? And before anything else, I’d like you to know Derek knows about this.”

  ****

  Angelo entered Lane’s room just as quietly as he had left it, and for a long time he simply watched her sleep. Sunlight filtering from the window turned her hair into gold, and looking at her now made him think about how she described him.

  A fallen angel, she had said.

  If he was a fallen angel, then she was what angels were at their purest.

  An angel who had enthralled him, so much so that she had only spent one night under his roof and she had already started turning his life upside down.

  An angel, whose wings were clipped like a wounded bird—

  Just like Jaike Hepburn when Angelo had first found her.

  He whitened at the thought, but it was a truth that he was powerless to deny. Was this his fate then, he wondered dully. Was it his inevitable, inescapable fate to want wounded birds like Jaike…and Lane?

  Would he never find a woman he didn’t have to piece together to stay with him?

  His gaze returned to Lane’s tear-stained face.

  Would you leave me, too, tesoro, once you’re whole again?

  The answer to this might still elude him, but he also knew he had the choice not to wait for it.

  And that was what he was going to do, Angelo thought grimly.

  He would not let himself hope.

  He would not let himself lie.

  This time, he would not pretend that he was someone worth loving.

  Chapter Nine

  “Buon giorno, signorina.” A tall, curvy girl with beautifully feline features came to Lane’s room to wake her up, the girl’s bright tone in complete contrast with her intimidatingly all-black grunge attire, which consisted of a ribbed top, skull necklace, and leather pants.

  Rubbing her eyes as she pushed her up, she stammered, “G-good morning.”

  “Signor V told me to wake you up at nine.”

  Signor…V?

  She asked uncertainly, “Do you mean Angelo?”

  “Yup, that’s the boss, but I like calling him Signor V to annoy him.” At Lane’s bemused look, Julieta explained with a grin, “We share the same hometown in Italy, so he’s also something of a big brother.” She wrinkled her nose. “And like most big brothers, I hate him more than I’m fond of him. But he’s also my boss, so I need to pretend I’m respectful of him, si?”

  “Umm…si?”

  Julieta chuckled. “You’re as adorable as Fico and Umberto said you were. Che transparente!”

  “Um, t-thank you?” She smiled weakly even as a part of her remained caught up with the fact that Julieta was a childhood friend of Angelo. Did the other girl really just see Angelo as a brother? What if—

  “Oh my God” Julieta was grinning again

  “What is it?”

  “You’re jealous, si?” The girl laughed. “Molto carino!”

  “Umm—”

  “You are so cute,” Julieta translated helpfully then with another wrinkle of her nose, she muttered, “I promise you, I have zero attraction to Signor V. Just the idea is…” Julieta shuddered.

  But still Lane hesitated.

  Julieta started laughing. “Diiiiiiiiiio. You are so unbelievably cute. You really like him that much? Maybe you’re much more ill than I thought.”

  Lane’s eyes widened. Julieta knew about her condition?

  “Oh!” The girl’s hands flew to her mouth. “Mi dispiace. I’m so terribly sorry, I didn’t mean…” Julieta grimaced. “And the worse thing is, Signor V totally saw this coming. He even warned me to at least try not to be tactless for the first hour at least, and…” Julieta sighed and then looked at her hopefully. “Can we try again?”

  “Umm…okay?” Lane didn’t know whether to laugh or run away. Being in the girl’s company made her feel like she had been caught up a whirlwind that showed no signs of abating.

  Julieta cleared her throat loudly. “Hello, Ms. Petersen—”

  “Lane, please.”

  Julieta said sweetly, “Oh, how kind of you. Lane it is. My name is Julieta, and I’m part of the household’s day staff.”

  “Day staff?” she echoed.

  Julieta nodded. “The night staff starts at six in the evening.”

  “I s-see.” The unwanted reminder of Angelo’s wealth made her grimace.

  “As for me, I’ve been instructed to serve as your personal assistant—”

  “But I don’t need—”

  Julieta was visibly alarmed. “Don’t tell him that. Please. He’s doubled my wages just so I can be your nanny.”

  “But—”

  “If it’s not me, it would be someone else. You have to know how much he needs to feel in control, right? So if it’s not me, he’s going to pick someone else and you wouldn’t want that because…”Julieta smiled smugly at her. “I’m the poorest among his staff.”

  Lane couldn’t help laughing at Julieta’s proud declaration.

  “It’s true. You can compare my bank account to everyone else’s and you’ll see. I’m dirt poor, and that’s supposed to make you feel more relaxed with me—” Julieta clapped her hands over her mouth. “Dio mio,” she groaned. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

  Lane couldn’t stop laughing. “It’s okay.”

  Julieta’s pretty face broke into a smile. “You forgive me?”

  She nodded. “And you’re right, I’ll be most comfortable with you.”

  Julieta nodded in satisfaction. “I thought so. That’s why I knew he’d be willing to pay me so much.” The evil grin on Julieta’s face made Lane laugh again.

  Following a quick shower, Julieta took her to the kitchen, saying, “I thought you’d feel more comfortable here, rather than in the dining room where those jerks—” She turned pale beneath her tan. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

  Lane shook her head.

  But Julieta didn’t appear convinced this time, and her tone was filled with dismay as she apologized, “Mi dispiace molto.”

  “It’s really okay,” Lane said honestly. “I don’t usually have panic attacks like last night. I promise.” She hesitated. “If it’s okay, what exactly did Angelo tell you and the staff about me?”

  “That you suffer from a trauma in the past which causes you to be afraid or anxious around wealthy people and rich-looking places…” Julieta hesitated. “Like this house?”

  Lane slowly nodded. “That pretty much sums it up.”

  “You truly didn’t know Signor V was loaded?”

  “No.”

  “You didn’t Google him? Or even search for him on Facebook?”

  “I try to use the Internet as little as possible. I mean, I know it’s just likely to show me stuff about rich people—”

  “And instead of dying of envy like normal folks, all that jazz
only makes you want to puke,” Julieta finished.

  “I wouldn’t, err, put it in that way but…”

  Julieta beamed. “You’re so cute. Really. Have I told you that?”

  “About seven times in the past hour,” Lane said, laughing.

  The kitchen was empty when they reached it, which Julieta explained to her was another precaution. “Signor V wanted me to check how comfortable you’d be first with other people—”

  “Oh, but I’m okay now, I promise. I don’t want to disrupt anyone from their work so please, it’s okay to call them back.”

  “You’re sure?”

  At her nod, Julieta made a call using the intercom and a few minutes later, Angelo’s entire kitchen staff returned. There were about ten of them, and they greeted her with wary smiles, relaxing only when Lane smiled back at them cheerfully.

  The chef took charge, introducing himself and everyone else.

  When it was her turn, Lane said awkwardly, “I’m, umm, Lane Petersen. Thanks for being so welcoming, and I’m so sorry if I ended up causing any delay in your work.”

  The chef, Felicio, shook his head. “Figurati. It’s no problem. We will be more than happy to have you enjoy your meal in the kitchen if this pleases you”

  “It does,” she assured him.

  They went to work then, and her eyes widened when she saw the bulk of food they were tasked to prepare. There were dozens of boxes and bags of ingredients, and they quickly filled up the kitchen’s vast counters.

  Seeing the questioning look in Lane’s eyes, Julieta volunteered, “It’s for tonight’s party.” She paused then said uneasily, “And please tell me you at least know about the parties, or Angelo’s really going to murder me.”

  “I do,” Lane answered quickly, seeing the genuine worry in the other girl’s face. “He’s told me enough about it, but I didn’t realize his party would have so many guests.” She colored. “I mean, I didn’t know there were that many…”

  “People like Signor V?”

  She gave Julieta a small nod.

  Julieta snorted. “Then you must have led a very sheltered life.”

  Lane’s lips twisted. “Actually, far from it.” But now, she was beginning to realize that the darker side of life took on different forms. She might have been raised in bars and clubs, but all of them had been in the country, where folks were simple and their vices had been equally simple.