by Chelle Bliss
An automobile flies by, heading down the street faster than any one before, and Antonio’s hair blows in the breeze, following the car. “Milan is nothing compared to cities such as Venice. We’ll visit them all in time.”
In time. I blink. In time. I blink again.
When did my life become jet-setting across the world on private planes on the arm of my handsome, yet sometimes asshole-ish used-to-be rival? I choose to ignore the statement because my brain still can’t process the thought of in time, meaning over the years, which terrifies me.
“Finish your coffee, and then we’ll head to Como for the rest of the weekend,” Antonio says like it’s no big deal.
“Okay,” I reply, sounding cool as a cucumber.
A boardroom full of hostile stockholders doesn’t terrify me as much as the thought of meeting the Forte family.
Chapter Ten
ANTONIO
“What if they hate me?” Lauren squeezes my hand as my sister’s estate comes into view.
She’s been glued to the window since we turned onto Catarina’s street. The large estates ranging from old-world Italian to over-the-top modern mansions dot the coastline. My sister’s home is no different than the others surrounding the lake with its majesty, reeking of wealth and excess.
“They won’t hate you.”
“How do you know?”
“My family is the least judgmental group of people.”
“Why don’t I believe that?” she grumbles.
“I’m an asshole, and they love me.”
She laughs softly and finally looks in my direction. “They have to love you. You’re family.”
I smile and pull her hand toward my lips before kissing the tender skin on the backs of her fingers. “That only means they have to put up with me. I’m sad my father won’t be here to meet you. He’s away with my brother-in-law, working on a special project.”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
As we pull up to the large iron gates, Lauren snatches her hand away and pulls down the visor above her head. She slips open the mirror, turning her face side to side and making the strangest faces.
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” she says as she sweeps her fingers across her cheek.
The gates open, and we make our way up the cobblestone driveway toward the ivory stucco structure that could easily be mistaken for a resort instead of a home.
“Do not leave my side.”
“I won’t leave you, but be prepared.”
She grabs my arm, holding on to it tightly. “For what?”
“They’re a little over-the-top.”
“Antonio, it’s been years since I’ve been around a family. I can’t breathe. I don’t know if I can do this.”
I hadn’t really considered how meeting my family would affect her. I couldn’t imagine having no one left in the world that shared my bloodline. The pain of such a thought is incomprehensible to me.
The entire family is standing outside when we pull up in front of the house. Lauren’s grip intensifies as she leans forward, staring at the small crowd of people when we park. “Jesus. That’s a lot of people.”
“Everyone came to meet you.”
She fidgets in her seat, barely able to unlatch the seat belt with her shaking fingers. I reach over, giving her a warm smile as I help her undo it. Before I have a chance to turn the engine off, my mother opens Lauren’s door.
“Bella donna,” Mamma says, holding her arms out to Lauren and expecting a hug.
Lauren turns to me, looking for help, but there’s nothing I can do when it comes to my mother. She’s a woman who’s used to getting what she wants and has never taken no for an answer.
I climb out, ready to come to Lauren’s rescue, but I’m not needed. Lauren steps toward my mother and into her embrace with no hesitation. I just stand there, transfixed by the two most important women in my life meeting each other.
“My girl, you are so frail,” Mamma says as her arms wrap around Lauren tightly. “My son has not been feeding you well.”
Lauren takes it in stride, laughing softly as my mother starts to grope at her arms, and she slowly backs away.
My mother’s eyes rake over Lauren’s torso as she holds her hands. “I must feed you. Come.”
Lauren glances backward, still laughing with bright pink cheeks. Any remnants of worry and nervousness have vanished within a few seconds of being in my mother’s arms.
Catarina wraps her arms around me before giving me a big, wet kiss on the cheek. “We’ve missed you, but I see why you’ve been gone so long. She’s beautiful.”
“She’s more than a pretty face, Cat. She’s quite simply perfection.”
Her eyes widen, and her head jerks backward. “Wait,” she says, placing her palm against my forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”
I swat her arm away and laugh. “I’m fine, just in love.”
“You didn’t just say what I think you did, did you?” Enzo asks as he approaches with the biggest smile. “Is my brother finally in love?”
They’ve never seen this side of me. I’ve always kept the women in my life far enough away from the prying eyes of my family, but I can’t do that with Lauren. She means more to me than all of them put together, and I want to show her off and bring her into the fold.
I shrug, unable to hide my smile. “She’s the one.” I glance toward the staircase leading into the house. Lauren and Mamma are walking hand in hand, deep in conversation.
“Zio Ant! Zio Ant!” my two nieces, Catarina’s girls, scream as they run down the stairway, almost knocking Lauren over.
They fling their tiny bodies into my arms just as I kneel low enough so they don’t kick me in the balls. “Ah, my girls.” I kiss their cheeks and give them a dozen kisses each.
Lauren’s watching me with curiosity because she’s never seen me as much more than a ruthless businessman. But my family means everything to me. My nieces and nephews have filled the void that had been left when I’d given up on the possibility of someday having my own children.
“Dove sei stato?” Amalia asks while pressing her tiny, warm palm to my cheek and forcing me to look at her.
She’s grown in the few weeks I’ve been away. Every time I see the girls, I can practically see them age before my eyes. I want to keep them small and innocent just like they are now. Wearing their frilly dresses with long curls that bounce in the wind.
“I was with her.” I lift my eyes toward Lauren.
She hasn’t moved, and my mother hasn’t stopped talking. Our eyes lock, and something passes between us. Something that we’d never experienced before. An understanding of sorts, or maybe she finally recognizes the real me that I share with very few people.
“Ooh,” Guila, the eldest of the two, coos. “She’s pretty.”
I don’t look away, keeping my gaze fixed on Lauren. “She is.”
“Are you going to get married, Zio Ant?”
I laugh and kiss their faces as they wriggle free from my arms to escape the over-the-top loving I typically bestow on them.
“Run, Amalia. He’s coming!” Guila screams, running in a circle as I stalk toward them with my arms in the air and make low-pitched growling noises.
“You can’t get away.” I move faster, chasing them toward the stairway and Lauren.
“Have you ever seen him like this before?” Enzo asks Catarina.
“When he’s drunk.”
“He’s drunk in love, my dear Catarina.”
I run up the stairs, giving Lauren a quick kiss on the lips before I back away, ready to chase after the little princesses.
“I like this side of you, Forte,” she says and touches my arm before I slip away.
There’s so much of myself I want to share with her. So many things I want to show her, but first, I’m going to make her fall. It’s all part of my evil plan to make Lauren mine forever.
LAUREN
I can’t move. My stomach is about to burst as my zipper digs in
to my skin. I don’t remember a time in my life when I’d been stuffed full of so many tasty dishes at once. Every time I tried to stop, Mrs. Forte would push the plate in front of me again and insist that I had more.
“Mangia,” she would say, motioning toward her mouth.
I couldn’t say no to her either. She sat at my side, the opposite one of Antonio, and the rest of the family sat with us. I ate while she talked, and thankfully, she didn’t ask many questions of me.
Everyone seemed to talk at once, and somehow, they heard each other because the conversation never stopped flowing.
I tried to imagine what it would be like to grow up in a house with so many brothers and sisters. Dinners with my parents before my mother passed away were always quiet affairs in which my parents would ask about school or talk about work.
As adults, Antonio and his siblings are a loud, boisterous group. I can’t imagine when they were knee-high and probably barely able to contain their energy long enough to sit for ten minutes.
“How’s the takeover going?” Violetta asks from the other side of the table and loud enough that everyone hears the question clear as day.
All motion ceases as every eye in the room turns to Violetta in an icy stare. Based on that, I know his family is fully aware of who I am except for poor Violetta.
Mrs. Forte pops up from her chair. “How about some dessert?”
Everyone ignores her question. The room is so quiet that I can hear my own heartbeat and the birds chirping away in the bushes outside the window.
“I’ll take some dessert,” I tell Mrs. Forte with a big, fake smile. I can’t possibly put another thing in my stomach, but I can’t take the silence even more.
“Oh, good. I made it just for you. Antonio said you love tiramisu.”
“That’s so sweet of him.”
Just because I ate two servings, his and mine, at the café in Milan yesterday doesn’t mean it’s my favorite. But, damn it. That tiramisu may quite possibly have been a tiny slice of heaven. Okay, two huge pieces, if I’m being honest. But after the amount of food I just ate, I can’t imagine putting one more thing inside my body and being able to walk out of this room with any type of grace.
Violetta’s eyes dart around the table. “Why is everyone looking at me like that?”
Instead of letting one of them answer, I figure I should field the question so we’re not walking on eggshells all weekend. “The takeover has turned into a merger, Violetta.”
“Vi, please, Lauren.” Violetta brushes her brown hair with purple tips behind her shoulders in a very glamorous fashion.
“Vi.” I smile. I like this girl. A lot. She’s so opposite of her brother with her wild, carefree exterior, and she completely goes against the grain of the rest of the family. “I guess the rest of the family didn’t tell you, but I’m the CEO of Interstellar, the very same company your brother tried to take over.”
“Fanculo.” She hangs her head and sighs loudly before yelling something else in Italian that I don’t understand.
Antonio yells back, his arms flailing about, and within ten seconds, everyone is screaming. Except for his mother because she rushed into the kitchen like she knew a war was coming. She got out of dodge in an instant, and I regret not joining her.
“Basta.” Antonio slams his fists on table and glances at me. “I’m so sorry, Lauren.”
“It’s no big deal.” I turn my gaze to his sister sitting quietly at the end of the table. “Vi, please don’t feel bad.”
“I can’t believe no one told me. Please accept my apology.”
I laugh softly, grabbing Antonio’s hand that’s still clenched in a tight ball. “If I can forgive your brother for trying to steal my company, I can get over anything. You weren’t being mean. Please, think nothing of it, Vi.”
Antonio’s about to say something, but before he can, Mrs. Forte enters the room with the biggest tiramisu I’ve ever seen. “I hope everyone is still hungry.”
There’s a collective groan as she sets the ornate dish on the table and stands over it. I know I have to have at least a piece because of the way she’s staring down at it with so much pride. I’ve known enough Italians in my life to know food is something you can’t turn down without hurting their feelings.
“It looks wonderful,” I tell her and place my hand over Antonio’s, giving it a light squeeze.
“This is my birthday weekend, and the last thing I want is for you children…” Her voice lingers on the word, driving it home, but I can’t tell if she’s talking about their behavior or her role in the family. “There’s to be no more fighting. Understood?”
“Si, Mamma,” Antonio replies along with his brothers and sisters.
“Good.” She smiles, placing her hands on her hips as she gazes around the table. “This is a weekend to celebrate, not fight, and we have an honored guest.”
My face reddens at the compliment. “Please, don’t go out of your way. I’m enjoying every moment of spending time with you and your family.”
Mrs. Forte places her tiny hand on my shoulder. “Eat your dessert, and then I’d like to show you around the estate.”
I don’t know why I was so worried about her. She’s been nothing but sweet and exceedingly cordial since the moment we pulled up. I guess I assumed she wasn’t going to be open and friendly since her son isn’t the most likable person until you get to know him.
But so far, I’ve become envious of Antonio. Not because of what he’s achieved in business, but because he was lucky enough to be born into this family. One with so many people and filled with so much love that he’d never known the loneliness I had in my life.
Chapter Eleven
LAUREN
The grounds of the Forte mansion are beyond breathtaking. The interior of the home is awe-inspiring, but standing amongst the fountains, flowering bushes, and Lake Como, I can’t help but fall in love with this majestic country. There’s a peace and tranquility that Chicago, my hometown and first love, will never be able to beat.
The words Antonio spoke to me at the W bar come back to me. I took offense when he said Chicago was nice for an American city, but now I understand it. Although I could travel anywhere in the world, I’ve barely been outside the United States unless I traveled for business. And even then, I didn’t take time to soak in the beauty around me. In the last two weeks, Antonio has shown me more of our tiny world, taking me to a private island in the Caribbean and the stunning countryside in Italy.
Mrs. Forte’s arm is hooked with mine as we walk along the edge of the lake. The worry I’d felt when we approached the estate quickly vanished as soon as she wrapped me in her warm embrace.
“So, Lauren,” she says, and I love how my name rolls off her tongue just like it does from Antonio’s. “I heard about what happened last weekend.”
I stop walking as flashes of waking up in the darkened room and then the feel of Trent against me wash over me.
She pulls me closer, turning to wrap me in her arms. “Oh, my dear girl. I didn’t mean to frighten you with the topic.”
I wrap my arms around her, holding on to her tightly. I don’t know why, but I break down. Finally, almost a week after my kidnapping, I lose it. Tears flood my eyes, plopping down onto her shoulder, staining her beautiful flowered dress.
She whispers beautiful Italian words in my ears and strokes her hand slowly up and down my back in a steady rhythm. I let the tears come, they fall uncontrollably as she consoles me. She may not be my mother, but she’s Antonio’s and has shown me more kindness than many. I ache for my mother in this moment. I mourn her death all over again, wishing I could have another second in her arms to help me through this tragic event in my life.
“Let it out,” she says, kissing my temple with such tenderness that my tears fall harder and faster.
I don’t know why I’m so affected by everything all of a sudden. Whether it’s her words or her kindness that finally put me in the space to deal with what’s happened without glossing
over it.
“Come sit, sweet child,” she says softly, guiding me toward a bench only a few feet away.
I wipe away the tears and allow myself one more second of pity before I pull my shit together. The last thing I want his mother to think is that I’m a blubbering emotional mess. That’s not me. I’ve never been that girl, so needy and in need of constant support. That girl died the day my mother was buried.
“Feeling sad does not make you weak.”
I drag my eyes to hers, wondering if she can read my mind.
“If you’re anything like my Antonio, it’s hard for you to show sadness or fear, because you think it makes you weak.” She wraps her arm around my shoulder, pulling me into her side before she continues. “But it takes a brave person to survive everything you’ve been through in your life.”
Resting my head on her shoulder, I close my eyes and listen to her words, letting them seep deep into my soul. It’s been ages since I’ve been given motherly advice, and I soak in every word, wishing I could always have this in my life.
Her hand glides up my arm and back down as she leans her head against mine. “Antonio is quite taken with you. I’ve never heard him talk about anyone the way he speaks of you. It takes a special woman to capture his attention so fully and quickly. He’s very much like his father.”
“Is he?” I don’t know what else to say. Her kindness and comfort isn’t something I expected when I accepted her invitation to show me around the grounds.
“My husband was a handsome man when I met him, but so… How do you say it…?” She pauses for a moment before she laughs. “He was so full of himself. I thought he was a jerk and didn’t care about anyone. For months, I turned him down, and he’d follow me around like a little dog.”
Her choice of words makes me smile. There’s a charm to listening to her speak English. “And then what happened? What changed?”
“I was nineteen and walking home late at night after working at a local bakery. We lived in a small village, and I never thought about my safety. Everyone knew everyone where we lived. No one had any secrets, and nothing bad had ever happened. But that night, a man knocked me down and snatched my purse right out of my arms and took off down the street.”