“The assassins. They knew. They knew about Alex before you did. They were at his daycare when you arrived on my doorstep, never having known of him.”
“Yeeees?” Julien looked at me curiously, waiting for me to explain why my tardy epiphany was relevant.
“Don’t you see? It’s her!” I pointed at Marla, who just sat on the settee with her perfect posture and her perky breasts, looking bored with the ramblings of the resident charity case. “She’s the only one who knew about Alex being your son. She was the only one who could have told them.”
“Don’t be stupid.” Marla looked down her nose at me. “I was far from the only person that knew about Julien’s bastard child.” Julien frowned, but Marla kept talking. “My directeur des finances that wired you your monthly child support knew not only your connection to Julien, but your address. Not to mention the countless personnes grossiers you told about the absentee father of your bâtard.”
I deflated a bit, realizing she was right. Many people could have figured out Alex’s connection to Julien. Julien put a comforting arm over my shoulder. Marla regarded the gesture as if he were stroking a rancid carcass. “Martin and I thought of all these things, Chérie. Naturally Marla was the first person we would question considering the timing of everything. We spoke last night.”
“Yes.” Marla lifted her upper lip in a sneer. “And I have already told them how I acted with your brat’s best interest in mind.”
I frowned in confusion, waiting for her to elaborate. She sighed in exasperation and looked at Julien. “You haven’t told her any of this?”
Julien pressed his lips together. “I didn’t see the point. We’ve already moved on in the puzzle.”
I was getting impatient. “Would one of you please tell me what the hell I’m missing?”
Julien squeezed my shoulder, clearly recognizing my rising ire. “Two men came to see Marla. They said I was in danger, along with any close relatives. She told them of Alex in an attempt to protect him.”
“How was I to know that they were the danger?” Marla tossed her hair with a sharp twitch of her head. “I did tell Julien, though. Not about the child of course, but about the danger. He assumed it was to do with his business dealings and didn’t seem too worried, so,” she shrugged her model-perfect shoulders “I thought nothing else of it.”
I took a moment to process this new information. I didn’t want to believe her, but I did. Deep down I knew she wouldn’t intentionally hurt Julien, no matter how much she hated me. “I see,” I said softly. “I apologize for the implication.” That was the best I could manage for an apology. I thought my suspicion more than justified considering I hadn’t been told about the mystery men approaching Marla.
Savio cleared his throat, startling me. I had forgotten he was in the room. He politely excused himself and Marla to go to breakfast and give Julien and me a moment of privacy.
I was angry and embarrassed and didn’t know quite what to do with myself. I pulled away from Julien’s half embrace and wandered back over to the shelf of soapstone figurines that had so captivated Savio before I came in. They looked to be crude carvings of animals; nothing at all extraordinary. The filigree frame sitting next to the carvings was much more interesting in my opinion. It housed an old photograph of Julien and a handsome woman standing on a bank of steps. No, it couldn’t be Julien. This picture was much too old. It had to be a young Giovani. Julien noticed my interest in the photo. “That’s my father and Nonna Vera on the steps of the orphanage.”
“The orphanage? You’re father must be fifteen in this picture!” I snatched the small frame off the shelf to get a closer look.
Julien nodded. “About that, I guess.”
“I thought you said Nonna was your father’s nanny. If he was adopted at fifteen he was much too old for a nanny.”
Julien laughed. “I would think so! My father wasn’t ever adopted. He spent his entire childhood in l’orfanotrofio. That is why he still carries the Diotallevi name. Had he been adopted, he would have taken the name of the family that adopted him.”
“And Nonna?”
“Nonna was a nurse at l'orfanotrofio. She was the closest thing my father ever had to a mother. They kept in touch after he left l'orfanotrofio. She was a guest at my parents’ wedding - the only one on the groom’s side. When my mother told my father of my impending arrival, he used it as an excuse to hire Nonna as a nursemaid. As I told you yesterday, she has been with our family ever since.”
I nodded in thought and gently placed the frame back in its spot next to the soapstone figurines. I lowered my eyes and spoke softly, not wanting to start a fight, but wanting to be heard. “I wish you had told me about the men and Marla. It was humiliating having her think you don’t confide in me.”
Julien took my chin in his hand and raised my face to meet his eyes. “Désolé Lara. I truly did not mean to keep that information from you. It didn’t seem relevant to me after we had cleared Marla of suspicion.” He moved his hand so he was cradling my cheek instead of my chin. “Please forgive my oversight?”
A beseeching Julien was a difficult sight to refuse. I covered his hand with my own and turned to plant a kiss in his palm. “Come on,” I said. “We had better go play referee at the breakfast table lest Nan stab Marla with a fork.”
Julien smiled and shrugged to show his lack of urgency. “Nan is a nurse. She’ll know all the best places to stab without doing any permanent damage. Let’s take breakfast upstairs.”
The next few days passed without incident. Marla and her pet continued to stay despite Julien wanting nothing to do with her. She claimed she wanted to catch up with Élodie, but things between the two women seemed strained. Élodie was much too gracious a woman to call Marla to task, but Marla’s actions had been unforgivable. Her only saving grace was that she had thought to protect Julien’s child from threatened danger, and she had been providing for him, however modestly considering her significant wealth.
I wished she would just leave. It was obvious to me Marla was desperate to get back into Julien’s good graces. I found myself contemplating what the last three and a half years had been like for her. She was still as obsessed with him as ever, but I knew he had spent the time since I had seen him last running his father’s company and stepping up to fulfill his duties as man of the house. He hadn’t spared a moment for her.
She didn’t seem outwardly effected by his neglect. She was still beautiful and fresh-faced. She was still perfectly toned and prone to showing too much skin. She still had her perfect row of teeth that bit into her bottom lip when she was plotting world domination. I would count myself very fortunate if I looked half as good as her when I was her age. But if it came at the cost of my heart or sanity it wasn’t worth it.
“Come, Chérie. I’ll see you to your room,” Julien said softly, offering me his hand and helping me out of my chair. We said our goodnights to Élodie and Marla, everyone else having turned in earlier. When we got to my door Julien kept walking. I smiled as he paused outside his own door. He cocked a brow in invitation. I sidled up to him so that my lips were a hair’s breadth from his, but I didn’t kiss him. His breath hitched at my nearness. He remained perfectly still. I closed my eyes as if about to press into him, then at the last moment I pressed against the door instead, opening it and surprising him.
He laughed at my trick. “Come here, minx.” He pulled me into a heated kiss. I melted against his chest intending to lose myself in his touch, but I drew up short. Something was off. The hairs on the back of my neck rose and I got the distinct feeling that someone was watching us. Julien’s brow furrowed. “Is something amiss?” he asked.
I looked out the large window, but it was a dark night and the light from the room turned it into a giant mirror. “I feel like we’re being watched,” I said. A shiver ran down my spine. Julien reached across me and pulled the blinds down over the window, then he flicked off the light. “There,” he said. “Is that better?”
I nodded, b
ut I still felt a little uneasy. It was probably because I wasn’t used to the room. Julien had been coming into my bed nights so I hadn’t spent any time with him in his room. He ran his hands over my arms, mistakenly thinking my goosebumps were due to cold. “Come, let me warm you.”
“How are you going to warm me if you keep undressing me?” I asked as he stripped me out of my clothes. He shed his own clothes and wrapped me in his arms. “Body heat,” he answered, then he lifted me up so that I was forced to wrap my legs around him. Rather than lower me to the bed like I was expecting him to do, he started kissing my neck, eventually dipping his head and working his way down to my eager nipples. A fresh round of shivers wracked my body, this time from pleasure.
Shifting his grip on my thighs he flexed his abdomen, and without warning he set me hard atop his erection, plunging deep up into me and causing me to convulse in a very unexpected, very welcome, spontaneous orgasm.
Feeling my body clench so suddenly around him he gasped. “Dio mio! I can’t-” He stopped talking as he thrust roughly into me. His arms were shaking with the effort of holding my weight. He lurched to the bed, falling forward onto the soft mattress, holding his weight with his arms as the last ripples of his release eased with his final thrusts.
Watching him lose control like that was an incredible aphrodisiac. Despite having just climaxed I felt my body responding again. He extended his arms to raise himself up and look down at me. My nipples pearled tightly, yearning for his attention, my muscles tightened around him, still hard and fully sheathed within me. “Ah. Body heat didn’t work,” he said, grazing my taut nipple with his thumb. “Maybe a hot shower will do the trick.”
He dropped a quick kiss on my lips and walked into the bathroom to start the water running. I immediately felt uneasy again. Scooting off the bed I scurried into the bathroom to join him. The shower was a large, multi-head steam shower. Julien smiled at my quick appearance. Testing the water with his hand he was pleased to find it already warm. “Let us not rush this time,” he said, holding the shower door open for me and following me into the delicious jets of water.
I lost track of time while we were in the shower. Julien wrapped me in his bathrobe for the trek across the hall. I preferred to sleep in my room so I could hear Alex if he woke up. As Julien walked toward the closet to get dressed I noticed the door was a bit ajar. “That’s funny. I don’t remember that being open earlier,” I said.
“The door?” he asked. “It’s this latch.” He poked the spring loaded door latch and it jiggled limply. “It is always coming lose.”
I shrugged dismissively. I was probably just being overly paranoid due to my uneasy feelings from earlier. I chided myself for being silly. Did I really think someone was hiding in the closet watching us? Who? The Boogeyman?
“Do you have The Boogeyman in Italy?” I asked. Julien smiled at my silly question and narrowed his eyes in thought. “We have l'uomo nero.”
“L’uomo nero?” I repeated.
“Sî.” He chuckled. “But be careful how you use it. It can be a slur if used in the wrong context.” I raised my brows. Hmmm. I filed that under ‘good to know’ and went to check on Alex one last time.
Alex had taken to staging dramatic battles with a set of chess pieces he had absconded with from Julien’s study. Aside from the little cars from Julien’s childhood and the few toys we brought with us on the plane, Alex’s toy options were rather limited here.
I smiled, noticing that someone, probably Nonna Vera, had drawn little faces on the pieces.
Alex giggled as Nonna Vera and I made a few pawns suffer a series of pratfalls. “You are very good with him,” Praised Savio. I would hope so, considering I am his mother I thought. I opted for saying “Thank you,” instead.
“Do you wish to have more children?” he asked, joining us by kneeling at the coffee table opposite Alex. What a presumptuous question. “We haven’t really discussed it.”
Savio nodded in understanding. Alex watched him stoically for a minute, trying to decide if he was worthy of joining the game.
Savio’s impertinent question had startled me and got me to thinking. Julien and I hadn’t been all that careful in regards to birth control these past two weeks. Aside from that first Morning After pill we hadn’t taken any precautions. Could I be pregnant? I thought back to the day I had learned about Alex. It was a bittersweet memory.
I clicked open the clam shell case of my birth control pills and popped out the last placebo of the pack. Realizing the cycle of pills was finished gave me pause. My cycle was conspicuously absent. My heart skittered a bit at the implication. I wasted no time in running to the drug store for a pregnancy test.
The little plus sign in the window of the test mocked me, as if knowing it represented the most challenging equation I had faced in my life to date. One plus one equaled three. I was torn between elation over knowing Julien and I had created life together, sheer terror at the thought of being a mother at twenty one, and sickening dread over having to break the news to Nan and Pops, forcing them to relive my mother doing the same thing when she had been even younger than I was.
My mother’s untimely pregnancy with me was the reason Nan had insisted I be on birth control in the first place, even though I wasn’t sexually active. “You never know when that might change, and you want to be prepared,” she had said. “You were the biggest blessing your mother ever received,” she had hastened to add in reassurance, “but there’s none of us that would have minded if you had waited a few more years before coming along.”
Her words had stuck with me. They had acted as a virtual chastity belt for me through my high school years and on in to my first year of college. I smiled a slight, amused smile to myself. I guess even virtual chastity belts were no match for the allure of Julien Diotallevi. My heart sped up at the thought of him. How was I going to tell him? What would he think? Would he be happy? Horrified?
I fortified myself with the conviction that he would welcome the news, if not immediately, then eventually. I picked up my phone and called him, holding my breath through each ring, praying he would pick up. He didn’t. I felt tears of frustrated disappointment sting my eyes as I ended the call half way through his outgoing voice message.
Navigating my way to my text screen, I pecked out a text. We had yet to successfully call each other since my departure. I called his number every other day, taking little solace in hearing his voice in his outgoing message. I didn’t want to give him this news via text message, but I wanted him to call me as soon as possible.
Julien, I can’t ever seem to catch you with phone reception. I miss your voice and would very much love to talk to you. Please call me as soon as you get this! love, Lara
Ugh. That sounded desperate and clingy. I quickly deleted the last part.
Julien, I can’t ever seem to catch you with phone reception. I really need to talk to you. Please call me. Lara
Hmmm. Better. Too bossy? I’m sure I could find something lacking with every possible option. I straightened my shoulders and hit “send”. My phone beeped the alert that it had sent successfully.
I waited two agonizingly slow days before texting him again. Two days spent reeling at my situation and hoping fervently to hear the sound of my phone ringing. Two sleepless nights with my ears straining to hear my ringtone even though my phone was right next to my head and there was no way I would miss his call should Julien finally attempt to get in touch with me.
Julien, I REALLY need to talk to you. PLEASE call me. It’s important. Don’t worry about the time difference. Lara
That night, around two in the morning I was rewarded by my phone ringing to life! I clutched my phone like a mad woman and quickly hit “accept”, relief flooding through me at Julien’s name on the I.D. screen.
“Hello?” I asked breathlessly.
There was nothing but loud white noise.
“Hello? Julien?” More noise. Then the line went dead. I started to call him back when I got a text me
ssage.
L. Sorry. My reception is shit. What did you need? J
I denied my first reaction which was to feel hurt by his dismissive tone. I was probably reading way too much into it.
I need to talk to you. Can you call me from a landline? It’s important.
His response took less than a minute.
No, I can’t. We’re pretty far off the coast. I’m amazed I’m getting the reception I am. Just text me what you have to say.
This wasn’t something I could text him about. He deserved to hear it from me in my own voice. Plus I wanted to hear his reaction and get an idea of his feelings on the subject.
I’d really rather not. When will you be docking next?
Again his response was immediate.
What is it, Lara? I don’t have patience for these games.
I was definitely not misinterpreting his tone now. My not-so-secret fear was becoming a very ugly reality right before my eyes. I was just a passing fling for Julien. A fun piece of ass to use while on holiday, and quickly be forgotten about. Out of sight, out of mind, good riddance.
Embarrassed anger heated my cheeks. I swiped angrily at my weak, stupid tears. Suddenly I was a daytime talk show candidate, telling my baby daddy I was knocked up via text message. I wasn’t sure whom I was more disgusted with; myself, or Julien.
I’m pregnant.
Nothing could have prepared me for his response.
Get rid of it.
I blinked at the letters on my screen, unsure I had read them correctly. I had. Without warning I was nauseous. Acidic vomit surged up my throat and I raced to the bathroom. I didn’t make it. I got as far as the hall when I clamped my hand over my mouth to no avail. The vomit burned its way through my sinuses. I fell to the floor, gasping and gagging and sobbing loudly, vomit burning my nose and throat, and tears burning my eyes. The hall light blazed on, and I squinted up at a startled Nan.
Sudden Legacy Page 17