The Italian

by T L Swan

  “Where’s that?” Jennifer asks.

  “The Pantheon.” I smile as I stare lovingly at my ring.

  “In Rome?

  “Yes, he took me there two years ago when we first met.”

  “You’ve been together for two years?” Jennifer squeaks.

  “No.” I laugh. “It was terrible timing back then. His father and grandfather were killed in a car accident that weekend, and he was too upset to start anything.”

  “Murdered,” Nat mutters into her wineglass. “Tell it as it is.”

  “Murdered?” Jennifer gasps as she looks between us.

  “We don’t know that.” I widen my eyes at Natalie to tell her to shut up.

  “He was totally murdered.” Natalie scoffs. “Haven’t you noticed how much security Olivia has around her.”

  Jennifer leans in toward the table. “I had noticed that,” she whispers. “I wondered why.”

  “It’s just because he’s wealthy, that’s all,” I reply. “It doesn’t mean anything.” I frown over at Natalie. Thank God I didn’t tell her anything. Imagine if she knew the truth. I need to change the subject. “Oh, there’s a problem, though.”

  “What’s that?” Nat asks.

  “Enrico wants to have an engagement party in two weeks at the Lake Como house.” I shrug, feeling totally overwhelmed. “I have no idea how to organize it in that time. He said he will get a party planner, but I hate the thought. It’s so impersonal.”

  “Oh.” Jennifer’s eyes widen. “I can do it. I was an event manager back home. I used to do this all the time. It’s a piece of cake.”

  “Really?” I frown.

  “Sure, and I’m not working right now. I could just work on it full-time.”

  “Oh, I don’t want to impose.”

  “It wouldn’t be an imposition. I would love to help out. I’d be happy to have something to do to be honest.”

  “That’s a fantastic idea,” Nat says. “Just pay her to do it.”

  “Of course, I would pay you,” I say.

  “If you like. I can invoice you when we’re done. I won’t charge much.”

  “Don’t worry, she’s loaded.” Nat tips her head back and drains her glass.

  “If you could send me the numbers and what you want, I can get started today.”

  “Really?” I smile in wonder. “That quick?”

  “Yes. Thank God my day is looking up. I thought I was going to die of boredom.” She thinks for a moment. “What’s the house like so I can organize flowers and decorations? Would you be able to give me a key so I can go and check it out today while you work? That way, I can start straight away.”

  “Yeah, sure.” I go to give her a key, and then hesitate. No, I can’t do that. Enrico would have a fit. “I’ll have someone there to meet you.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes hold mine. “Okay, whatever is easiest. I don’t want to bother anyone. I’m used to being in houses alone.”

  “It won’t be a bother.” I smile. “The house is guarded all the time so someone will be there.”

  “Why is the house guarded?” She frowns.

  “That’s the million-dollar question.” Nat raises her eyebrow.

  “I told you, his family is rich. It’s just a precaution.” I roll my eyes at her dramatics. “Stop with the conspiracy theories, Nat. You watch way too much Netflix.” I stand. “I have to go. I’m going to be late for work.” I kiss them both on the cheeks.

  “Email me the party details and I’ll get to it.”

  “Okay, thank you.”

  I leave the café filled with relief. Thank God I know someone who knows all about event management. The world is saved.

  I’m not going to fuck this up.

  Giorgio smiles as he holds my hand and inspects my ring. We are in my office, pretending to work.

  “I knew you were the one for him. From the moment I saw you, I knew you were the one.”

  I giggle. “And how did you know that?”

  “From the way that he looked at you.”

  “How does he look at me?”

  “Like you’re the only other person on earth.”

  My heart swells because that’s how he makes me feel too.

  “So?” He sits back on my desk. “When’s the wedding?”

  “I don’t know. Enrico wants the engagement party in two weeks.” Giorgio’s eyes widen. “What are you going to wear?”

  “Not sure yet.” I smile nervously. “Something nice.”

  Giorgio stands and immediately looks me up and down. “You must wear Valentino.” He taps his finger on his lips. “I’m going to go down to production and find something from next year’s line.”

  I roll my eyes with a smile.

  “Leave it with me, darling. You will look fabulous.” With a kiss on each cheek, he practically runs from my office, and I drop into my chair.

  It is fun being Giorgio’s hobby.

  My eyes flutter open. “Bedtime, Bella,” Rico whispers from behind me.

  We are lying on the couch in the apartment in Milan. It’s late now, and the last thing I remember, we were watching a movie. I’m tight in his arms and he kisses my temple.

  “Did you fall asleep too?” I ask.

  “Yes. This movie is very boring.”

  I giggle because I love his accent when he says certain things. This movie is very boring seems to be one of them.

  Enrico’s phone dances across the coffee table, and the name Sergio lights up the screen. What does he want? That guy gives me the creeps.

  “Yes,” Rico answers flatly, clearly annoyed at being called at this hour. He frowns and listens for a moment. “What?” he barks. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “What is it?” I mouth.

  He begins to yell in Italian, screaming at the top of his voice. I’ve no idea what he’s saying but he’s absolutely losing it. He slams his hand on the coffee table in fury, and I jump. Jeez.

  Calm down already.

  He points to the bedroom. “Get dressed, Olivia.”

  “What?” I frown. “Why?”

  “Get dressed,” he repeats. He goes back to his conversation and continues to yell in Italian.

  “Prepare the jet. We leave in an hour,” he instructs.

  “Leave.” I frown. “Where are we going?”

  He points to the bedroom. “Get dressed.” He’s furious. The anger radiating out of him is thermonuclear.

  “Tell Lorenzo to pick up Olivia and take her to my mother’s. He can stay here with them. I want extra men on the Ferrara house while I’m gone.” “What?” I whisper. “I don’t want to go to your mother’s. That’s just awkward.”

  His eyes widen at me. “Do not even think about disobeying me tonight, Olivia. You will stay at my mother’s. Get fucking dressed. Now!”

  Oh my God. I storm up the hall and quickly throw some clothes on. He soon follows and marches into his wardrobe.

  “What’s happened?” I ask.

  He rips his clothes off a coat hanger, and it flings across the room with force. “I have to go to Sicily.”

  “What, now? It’s the middle of the night?” I frown. “What’s happened?”

  He kisses me quickly. “Nothing that you need to be worried about. I have something that I have to take care of. You will stay at my mother’s house until my return.”

  “I’ll just stay here.”

  “You will not stay here alone.”

  “Okay. Calm down.”

  It’s obvious he’s under a lot of stress about something, and I don’t want to add to it.

  “Pack a bag.” “Well, how long will you be?”

  “I don’t know.” He tears out an overnight bag and begins to throw clothes into it with force. He’s completely losing his shit here.

  Fear starts to run through me. “Is something wrong?”

  He opens the safe in his wardrobe and removes two guns. He puts one under his jacket.

  “Just trouble at one of the brothels. Nothing for you to w
orry about.”

  “Why do you need a gun then?”

  He brushes past me and goes into the bathroom to pack his toiletries.

  I storm in after him. “Is Sophia there?”

  “Olivia,” he bellows. “Do not fight with me tonight. This has nothing to do with Sophia. Pack your fucking clothes.”

  “You don’t have to be an asshole about it!” I snap.

  I walk back into the bedroom and begin to throw some clothes into the overnight bag he has gotten out for me. I go into the bathroom and grab my toiletries. I stare at the closed bottom drawer for a moment, and then I snatch the pharmacy bag that I picked up today.

  “How long are you going to be?” I ask.

  “Not long.”

  “Not long, as in one night, or not long, as in eight?” He glares at me. “Bella.”

  I purse my lips. “What kind of trouble is it?”

  “Just one of the patrons.”

  “Can’t someone else handle it? It’s midnight, Enrico.”

  “No.” He picks up his packed bag and storms from the room. I run after him. “Is this dangerous?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, his frustration obvious. “God, give me strength, Olivia.” He inhales sharply. “I have to go. Lorenzo is coming for you.”

  “This is all very dramatic for something that isn’t dangerous.”

  The doorbell sounds, and Enrico looks at the security screen. Lorenzo is waiting in the hall. Enrico buzzes him in.

  “Hello,” Rico greets him. “Take Olivia to Ferrara House and don’t leave her side.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Enrico picks up his bag, throws it over his shoulder, and lifts my face to his. “I’ll be home soon, my love.” He kisses me softly. “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

  “Okay.” I force a smile. “Please, be careful.”

  “Always.” With one last kiss, he walks out of the apartment without looking back. The door clicks quietly behind him.

  I drop my shoulders, deflated. “It’s midnight, Lorenzo. It’s rude to go to Bianca’s at this hour. She’ll be fast asleep. Enrico is being dramatic. Why can’t I just stay here?”

  “Olivia,” he warns in his best Italian accent. “You will follow his orders.”

  The car pulls into the circular driveway of Bianca’s home.

  Ferrara House.

  This place is like something from a magazine. It’s over the top luxury like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. More guards are here than anywhere else, and I wonder who assigns them. Is it Enrico’s doing or was it his father’s? My mind goes off on a tangent, and I idly wonder if Angelina has this many guards at her house, too. Which partner gets better protection? More importantly, from what?

  Nerves dance in my stomach as I think of Enrico on his way to Sicily.

  Please, be safe.

  Lorenzo opens my door and takes my overnight bag from the trunk. “I don’t want to wake anyone up,” I whisper.

  “Bianca knows you’re coming.” Just as he says that, the front door opens, and Bianca comes into view. She’s wearing a cream satin nightdress and gown—as glamorous as ever.

  “Hello, Olivia,” she says with a forced smile.

  I clutch my handbag with white knuckle force. “Hi.” I look around nervously. “I’m sorry about this, I hate to trouble you. I really could have stayed at Enrico’s.”

  “It’s fine.” She holds her hand out for me. “Come, come.” She leads me into the house. “It will make Enrico feel better if he knows you’re safe.”

  I clutch my bag harder. Gah, this is awkward. “Thanks.”

  “Can I get you a drink or anything?” she asks.

  “No.” My eyes flick nervously to Lorenzo. “I think I will just go to bed, if that’s okay?”

  “Yes, yes, of course.” She leads me up the stairs and down a huge corridor. “This used to be Enrico’s room as a child,” she says as she opens the door. “I thought you might want to stay in here.”

  I look around the luxurious furnishings. The walls are navy blue, and the furnishings are all white. To the left is a beautiful white marble bathroom.

  Wow.

  Who has a bedroom like this as a child? “It’s perfect, thank you.”

  “Do you need anything else?” I shake my head. “No, thank you. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.” With one last look and another forced smile, she leaves and closes the door behind her. I drop down on the bed before I flop onto my back. I lie for a moment and stare at the ceiling. I know there’s something I really have to do.

  I’ve been putting it off for a week, but now I need to know. I dig out the pharmacy paper bag from my luggage and I read the box.

  First Response Pregnancy Test

  I’m on the pill. I know it can’t be positive, but for some reason I have this weird gut feeling that I am.

  I mean, I did miss a pill or two a few weeks back, but I took double the next day, and I’ve always done that before with no consequences.

  I study the instructions and then go and pee on the stick. I sit on the bathroom counter while I wait.

  I wait.

  And I wait…

  And I wait.

  Before my very eyes, one line appears… and then a second faint line appears not so long after.

  Hmm, that’s interesting.

  I frown. What does that mean? I snatch the instructions up and read them again.

  Two lines indicates a positive result.

  My mouth falls open in shock.

  What the fuck? I’m pregnant.

  Enrico

  I’m livid.

  Never in my life have I ever been so angry.

  One of our girls has been found in a back ally in Sicily, dead.

  Beaten, and then strangled—the name Lucky Lombardi carved into her face.

  How fucking dare he?

  She did not deserve to die like this. His fight is with me, not her. His name carved in her face is for my benefit. He wants a war, and he just got one.

  “You find where he is?” I growl as I get off the plane.

  “We have a location,” Sergio replies. “He’s in a bar on the South Side.”

  I clench my jaw as I imagine what the girl’s family are about to go through. A new wave of anger ravages through me. “Take me to him.” I pat my suit pocket and feel the heavy weight of my gun.

  “We can’t go there unmanned.”

  Nobody touches a Ferrara girl… nobody.

  “Then get the men,” I reply flatly.

  Twenty minutes later, the car pulls to a halt in a parking lot outside a bar, and I get out of the car on autopilot.

  We are in a seedy part of Sicily. The bar is loud, but the rest of the streets are quiet.

  What kind of man does that to an innocent woman?

  I walk across the cobblestone street to the bar. It’s been raining and the ground shimmers with the afterglow. The sound of my feet crunches on the hard surface.

  I have ten men with me now, and I’m here for blood.

  His blood.

  I open the door and walk into the bar. The musicians instantly stop playing, and everyone falls quiet. They stop and stare. I walk in, and my shoes creak on the wooden floorboards.

  I look around at the patrons. It’s filled with men of many ages. They know who I am, and it tells me a lot.

  “Where is Lucky Lombardi?” I ask loudly—calmly.

  Silence.

  “Give him to me… or write your own death certificate.”

  They all stay deathly still.

  I grab the closest man to me. “Where is he?” I ask as I give him a shake. “I speak the truth. Anyone who hides him from me will meet their maker today.”

  One weaker man points to the backdoor of the bar. “He left,” he says softly, his eyes darting the door.

  “Check the bathrooms,” I tell Sergio.

  I hope to fuck he’s in ther
e so I can kill the fucker with my bare hands.

  We walk back out the front door and into the parking lot. I look around, my ten men beside me.

  The parking lot is dark and eerily. I can see no movement.

  He’s hiding…

  “Mr. Lombardi!” I call. “Show your cowardly face.”

  Silence.

  My men and I exchange looks.

  “Get out here!” I yell.

  I hear a phone ringing in the distance and we all glance at one another. The phone keeps ringing and we look over to see it’s coming from a payphone on the corner of the street.

  Sergio goes and answers it. “Hello.”

  His eyes glance up and over to me before he holds the phone out. “It’s for you.”

  My eyes scan the roads and buildings around us. Is this a set up?

  I take the phone from Sergio.

  “Hello, Enrico,” a husky male voice sneers. “Looking for me?”

  “Show your face.”

  He laughs out loud. I narrow my eyes as I look around at the buildings surrounding us. He’s here somewhere. I can feel him watching us.

  “You will get out of Sicily and hand me possession of all the brothels, or you will face the consequences.”

  I smile at his stupidity. “Or, what?”

  “Or I’m making a visit to House of Valentino.”

  What?

  My blood runs cold.

  “And your blonde… Olivia Reynolds…will pay for your stupidity on the end of my knife.” He laughs out loud. “I’m going to chop her up into tiny pieces and fry her bones.” He laughs again, a sick and twisted sound. It echoes through my brain causing a shock wave through my system.

  Then… the phone goes dead.

  28

  Enrico

  Anger surges throughout my body and I turn to my men.

  “Kill him.” I squeeze the phone in my hand so hard, I’m certain it will break. “Kill anyone who stands in your way. I want him dead. I want them all fucking dead!” I growl, I turn and storm to the cars. I jump into the driver’s seat, and the men scramble behind me to keep up.

  Getting home to Olivia just became my only priority.

  He threatened her. He’s already killed an innocent woman.