by Mia Caldwell
“You see, Joan, I ran into Rebecca by chance not long after you OD’d in my apartment. She basically confessed to spiking your drink, and then using my credit card to turn my house into a party”
“Rebecca said that? That little bitch!”
“I didn’t believe her. I thought you’d sent her to make up another lie to cover your sins, but then she explained that the only reason she was telling me this stuff was because she was in NA and she was doing her ninth step. She asked me for your contact info so she could make amends to you next.
I still didn’t believe her. I’d never heard of this ninth step, and I wasn’t sure what NA stood for, so I asked her. Do you know what the bitch said? Google it.”
Joan laughed, despite the emotions twisting in her chest. Antonio reached for her face.
“I didn’t believe her until I googled NA and read up on the steps. Then I called her back, and she still wanted your contact details because she wanted to make amends to you. At that point, I knew she was telling the truth and that I’d done you horrible harm by not believing in you.”
His voice cracked. “You almost died because of me... I’m so sorry, Joan, for doubting you, for refusing to talk to you, for cutting you off the way I did.”
“It’s okay. I forgive you,” Joan said.
They kissed for a long time and Joan felt the hole in her heart closing. Her stomach grumbled. Still kissing Antonio, she found her fingers groping for the tray with the cookies.
As soon as he released his lips from hers, she stuck the cookie in her mouth and took a bite.
He laughed.
“Slow down, super model, I’ve never seen you eat so much.”
Joan waited until she’d finished the entire cooking before answering. “I’ve been hungry recently,” she admitted, reaching for another one. He tried to stop her. She ducked out of his reach and took another bite, but, he was an athlete and got her onto her back, where he tickled her in an effort to swipe the cookie. They laughed together, but soon they were rolling around in the bed. Joan swiped at the cookie crumbs on her face but Antonio was there first, licking them off her face and pulling off her shirt to lick her neck, her chest, her breasts, her stomach.
Joan’s body arched into him and her hands fisted in his hair.
“Oh, Antonio, I’ve missed you so much.”
They made love on top of the bed, not bothering to close the curtains. He started on top of her, moving slowly inside her, then switched to sixty-nine her on the bed. She cried out her orgasm with his cock deep in her throat, and then they came apart and just held each other close, spooning until they fell asleep.
Joan woke to smell of coffee. Antonio was already up and dressed.
“Good morning Joan,” He handed her a mug of steaming coffee.
‘Sorry, there isn’t any cream.”
“I had my cream last night.”
“Do you want more?”
She was naked, so she set down the coffee, got on her knees and sucked him off until he gave her his cream.
He returned the favor, pressing her back on the bed with her knees splayed on the edge as he knelt on a rug and used his fingers, mouth, and tongue until she came.
After that, she took a quick shower, taking her clothes to the bathroom in case anyone from the house showed up.
He spoke through the open door as she showered, telling her that he had to prepare for a press conference, and would she not hog the only shower?
She invited him inside and he ended up coming inside her again.
She’d finished dressing and was taking a pee, when she heard voices and closed the bathroom door.
Her chest tightened.
Julio had arrived and was taking Antonio to his press conference.
“Where’s Joan? Lissa said she was going to spend the night. Is everything okay with you two?”
“Joan’s in the bathroom. Hurry up Joan, Julio’s here. I have to go to my press conference. You should probably go back to the house – we can give you a ride.”
Joan had forgotten about the press conference. She’d been too caught up in a sexual haze to think of anything past the next time she was one with Antonio. Hearing about the press conference sobered her up fast - This could be the last time she saw him without looking through a set of bars.
“I’m coming with you,” she said as she finished in the bathroom and hurried out.
Antonio turned to Joan. “You don’t have to come.”
“Yes, I do and there’s nothing you can say that will stop me.”
He nodded. Joan could see that he was anxious.
She gathered up her cell phone and purse, grabbed a cookie to take on the road, and joined Antonio and Julio inside the limo.
Julio was serious, he spoke in low tones. “Just do as we discussed. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Antonio nodded. Joan wanted to hold his hand, but, Antonio was staring myopically across the countryside as they drove back towards Barcelona.
“Where are we going?” Joan finally asked, directing her comments to Julio.
“We’re going to his lawyer’s office, downtown near Passeig de Gracia.”
When they arrived and stepped out of the car they were hit with shouts and flashes as the media tried to get pictures of the missing soccer star whose attorney had called the surprise news conference.
Julio, Joan, and Antonio didn’t engage the press. Antonio conferred quietly with his lawyer for a moment then took a single sheet of paper and stepped to the podium.
The news media scrambled to hold out their mics and get the best shot.
Antonio lifted the mic towards his tall body. He tapped on it, and it made the humming noises that assured that it was on. Joan’s fingers balled into fists and her jaw clenched with anxiety as she watched sweat form on Antonio’s brow. He was being so brave. She’d never loved him more.
“Testing testing?” Antonio said, his voice cracking.
“You are alive so tell us;, where have you been? What’s this press conference all about?” shouted a capricious reporter.
Antonio let out a laugh, then straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath. He pulled up his sheet of paper from his attorney.
“Three months ago, I made a mistake. I got involved with bad people and I broke an important rule for my sport. As a result, I willingly turn myself into authorities and await their judgment. I also, willingly resign from my position as a soccer player for AC Milan and humbly ask the fans and my fellow players to forgive me for my transgressions.”
With that, Antonio crumpled up the paper and tossed it on the floor before walking back towards the entrance to his attorney’s building. The press went mad.
“What did you do?”
“What mistake did you make?”
Joan and Julio joined Antonio in not commenting, and soon they were safely inside the building. Security guards kept the reporters and paparazzi outside.
The attorney shook Antonio’s hand. “You did well,” he said, then he focused his attention on Joan. “Is this the woman who made you turn yourself in?”
Antonio pulled Joan close to him and his face lit into a weak smile. “Yes, this is her.”
AFTER MUCH MEDIA ATTENTION and deliberations in the court systems, Antonio Ferraro’s criminal charges were ultimately dropped. The evidence from the team doctor showing he’d sustained a real injury on the night he was alleged to have faked an injury to throw a game took away the worst charge.
Nonetheless, Antonio’s confession that he’d both gambled illegally in sports, which was against the rules of the league, and had at one point agreed to throw a game to deal with his gambling debts, gave the league no other choice than to punish him.
He was sentenced to three months in jail for his illegal gambling and fined a hundred thousand euros for smearing the reputation of his team. He was banned from Italian soccer for life.
Upon hearing the verdict fans rioted in the streets, thinking the courts were too harsh, that the leag
ue was too harsh. They wanted their star player back, but Antonio went on camera and told them all that he was willing to pay the price for his mistakes, and that they should accept the verdict of the league and the courts.
Bowing to pressures the league quickly changed their ban, giving him the right to play for Italy in the Olympics if he qualified. The ban didn’t affect his right to play with any non-Italian team.
Before he was due to report to jail for his three months, he was flooded with offers from all over Europe, teams from teams in Germany, France and even a few teams in England wanted him to play. In addition, he was flooded with offers to coach from team and universities all around the world. H
e turned them all down for now. He would consider his options after he served his time.
Joan stayed with Antonio in his new digs, a much less expensive apartment in a less fancy part of Milan - s
he wanted to be with Antonio up until the day he was sent to jail. After, she planned to go back to America and help her mother remodel the apartment in New York with the caveat that she’d be on the next plane the second she heard of his release date.
The days with Antonio before he was to go to jail had been bittersweet.
They made love all the time, but Antonio was moody and detached.
The press and the tabloids had been digging up dirt all over the place, smearing his name, and he seemed to feel guilty about dragging her through the mud.
Joan insisted that she wanted to be by his side but she felt that she’d lost him, that he was pulling away.
Finally, with less than two days before he was to go into prison, she convinced him to go to another GA meeting.
He didn’t share, nor did he try to hide who he was, but she could tell that the meeting had helped him.
That night when they made love, he finally said the words she’d been waiting to hear for days.
“I love you, Joan Edwards,” he said, before rolling over and falling asleep.
He had nightmares that night and she woke him up, then soothed him back to sleep by playing rock a bye baby as she rocked up and down his cock, kissing his face.
When he went back to sleep, she lay awake.
She’d been waiting for Antonio to ask her to marry her. He’d almost done it that one time back in Milan, so why wasn’t he doing it again?
The next day Antonio had to visit his attorney so Joan went to see Lissa, Julio and the triplets who’d moved into their new place close to the Milan Project. Antonio joined them for dinner and everyone was in a somber mood, knowing it would be Antonio’s last supper before turning himself into prison.
Lissa and Joan were on one side of the large balcony trying not to think about tomorrow as they enjoying the breathtaking views of Milan. Antonio and Julio were at the other end of the balcony smoking cigars, and talking quietly.
Joan heard some of their conversation.
“I want to, but I can’t. After I pay my fine, I’ll be broke.”
“But, you can make the money back So many teams want you to play for them.”
“I’m not going back to soccer, Julio. Too much water under the bridge, too much temptation.”
“I could lend you the money.”
“I don’t want your charity.”
“It’s not charity.” Said a gravelly voice.
Joan and everyone else turned around - the voice had come from inside the house and it wasn’t Julio’s. It was an elderly man supporting himself with a gold encrusted walking stick.
“Your Royal Highness?” Lissa blurted. “What are you doing here?”
“May we have the balcony?” he said to the two women.
Joan and Lissa looked at each other, then at Julio and Antonio. Antonio started to go.
“Not you. Please, Julio, you too. It’s time I spoke with Antonio alone.”
Antonio’s face grew confused. Julio looked at the two men, and Joan saw a look in the Viscount’s eye that she recognized. It was the same look Antonio got when he was worried or afraid.
“Come on, Joan, Lissa,” Julio said as he put out his cigar in a plant and moved them back into the house. Julio closed the door and Joan watched as the old man moved closer to Antonio.
“What’s going on?” she asked, worried that something terrible was about to happen. “Why does the Viscount want to speak to Antonio?”
“Come with me to the other room and I’ll tell you.”
Lissa got a bottle of mineral water and poured them all a glass as they waited for Julio to explain.
“You remember how my father was Antonio’s godfather, which is why I became his godfather after my father died?”
“Yes, but what does that have to do with the Viscount wanting to talk to Antonio? Is he a soccer fan or something? Lissa pressed.
“I don’t know if he’s a soccer fan or not, but he does care very deeply about Antonio.”
“Why?”
Julio looked around, then got up and checked in the hallway than the balcony to see if they were being overheard. He came back, sliding the kitchen door closed behind him.
“This is a well-kept secret, I have to know that you will tell no one what I’m about to share.”
“Of course, I won’t tell anyone,” Joan said.
“I swear to Jesus Christ, I’ll keep your secret,” Lissa agreed.
“Just tell us, already!” both sisters said at the same time.
Julio lowered his voice.
“That old Spanish airforce buddy of my father’s, that was supposed to have been Antonio’s father? That man never existed. The Viscount is Antonio’s father.”
“Oh my God!” Joan said.
“That means, Antonio is – some kind of prince or something?”
“Or something is the operative word. It’s an extreme scandal and would cause undue disruption to the Royal Families if word ever got out. That was the reason the Viscount came to my father after he learned that a woman he’d had an affair was had given birth to his child.”
Joan thought about this. She’d seen where Antonio had grown up, how rough and impoverished his life had been. She’d seen the restaurant where his mother had been forced to work. “So, this Viscount dude knocks up the mother and then washes his hands?” she asked, with a growing sense of outrage.
“Not exactly,” Julio said. “He set up the godfather thing with my dad and my father sent his mother money from time to time, helping her out when she couldn’t pay her rent.”
“He helped when she couldn’t pay her rent – while he lived in a palace for God’s sake!”
“Joan, you have to understand. It had to be very discreet. She didn’t know it was his child - she was a woman who’d had many men, and when she realized she was pregnant she married the first guy that came along. If he’d told her he knew Antonio was his child, she or her new husband might have blackmailed him. He couldn’t afford that.”
“How did he know it was his son? Maybe it was from one of the other men,” Joan spat out.
“He knew because he watched the child from afar. He’d gone in disguise to the restaurant and seen the baby, and he’d seen the mark that only the children of the Iberian royal family had on their body.”
Joan’s eyes went wide. “The mark that looks like a bell?”
“Yes.”
“He saw a mark on Antonio’s buttocks?”
Julio laughed. “You know, when he told me the story I thought the same thing. But, Julio’s mother was so busy that when the stranger offered to change her baby’s diaper she didn’t blink. That certainly wouldn’t happen today. He told me that once he saw the mark he stormed out of there, saying something about how it was too stinky and she should do it herself.”
“Wow,” Lissa said.
“When did you hear all of this?”
“Remember when he invited himself to the wedding? That was when I found out. I’d been summoned, and the wedding was when he intended to meet Antonio and admit who he was at last. Only, you know, that didn’t work out.�
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Joan thought about the dead thug and how the Viscount didn’t even stay for the wedding. She understood. He wasn’t there for the wedding – he was there to see Antonio.
She got up.
“I want to check that he’s okay.”
Julio nodded. The three of them moved back into the living room and looked out on the balcony. It was empty. Joan’s heart clenched. Had they jumped off in a fit of familial despondency? “Antonio!”
“Over here,” he shouted, his voice full of laughter.
She blew out a breath. He was standing next to a chair the Viscount had sat in, and he was smiling broadly as the Viscount relayed some funny story.
Julio’s hand gripped Joan’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, just don’t say anything. Let them initiate it or not, okay?”
Lissa was standing close by and she nodded in agreement with Joan as the three of them approached the two men.
“Come quick! Hurry!” someone shouted. They all turned to see Susy the nanny waving her arms frantically.
Joan’s chest tightened as Lissa said the words on her tongue, her words panic rising in her voice. “What’s wrong? Is there something wrong with one of the boys?”
“No, nothing’s wrong, but I think Marco is about to take his first steps. Bring your cell phones!”
Everyone rushed into the playroom, which was part of the nursery - a massive room with cribs on one end and a huge playpen on the other. The three boys were in the playpen, but Marco was standing on his feet, holding onto the edge of the playpen and looking like he was getting ready to move.
“Come on, Marco, you can do it!” Said Julio, proudly.
Marco let go, then immediately toppled over like a pin in a bowling alley.
“Excellent,” came the deep voice of the Viscount.
Joan saw that Antonio had walked his father over and was supporting him as he leaned against the door of the nursery.
Lissa watched as Ryland crawled past Marco, who was still trying to get back up, and went to the edge of the playpen. He pushed himself up to a standing position.