“No, I’m with Massimo, a friend…what is it, Laz? What’s wrong?”
“After I tell you this, can you ask this Massimo to escort you home? I don’t want you alone.”
India’s body began to tremble. Lazlo was not a panicky guy, nor was he prone to dramatics. “Laz, you’re scaring me.”
“It’s Carter, Bubba. The arresting officer was charged with corruption, and all of his cases have been thrown out. They let Carter out a week ago, and so far, he’s in the wind. He’s out. He got out of prison.”
Chapter Three - Let’s Get Lost
India’s entire body went numb. “It can’t be, Laz… How could they let him out? The evidence was overwhelming! I testified, for the love of God!” She became aware Massimo was listening, alarmed. She looked at him apologetically. He approached and put his arms around her. For a second, she resisted; she didn’t want this crap to sully their evening, and he was still technically a stranger, but…oh, the feel of his big, solid body against hers was so comforting, so safe.
“Can you get back to your apartment? I need to tell you more but not in public. I’ve also arranged protection for you. They’ll meet you there. Nevertheless, don’t go home alone. Is Massimo trustworthy?”
India smiled. “Yes,” she said, meeting Massimo’s gaze, “I would say Massimo Verdi is trustworthy.”
“Massimo Verdi? That makes me feel better.” Lazlo was relieved. Massimo smiled at her, touching her cheek. India held his hand to her face for a moment, gazing at him.
“Indy, you there? Can you get home?”
India nodded and then realized that was no good to Lazlo. “Yes, I can get home.” She looked at Massimo, who nodded as well. Even if he knew nothing of what was going on, he clearly would be happy to accompany her home. “I’ll call you when we get back to my apartment.”
She hung up. To give herself a moment, she put her phone away very slowly, taking a deep breath. She looked up to see Massimo watching her, his eyes wary.
“Are you okay, Bella?”
India drew in a long breath. “I don’t know. Something’s happened, and I…” She sighed and tried to smile. “I have to go home. My brother wants to talk to me.”
Massimo held out his hand. “I’ll walk you back. Listen, you don’t have to tell me anything, but I’m here if you need to take a dump on me.”
Despite herself, India burst out laughing. “Dude, it’s ‘dump on me’ not ‘take a dump on me’. Entirely different, very niche.”
He shrugged, grinning good-naturedly.
“My English idioms need improvement.”
India smiled at him and stroked her hand down his face. “It’s tough to dislike a guy who knows the word ‘idioms.’ You’re perfect.” He smirked, deflecting her compliment with a shrug. He’s lovely, India thought. Absolutely exquisite.
She took his hand and they walked through the quiet streets. All the sexual tension had dissipated, and India, despite the horror at Braydon Carter’s release, was disappointed. The timing sucks, that’s all, she thought. Massimo’s hand dwarfed hers, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. She moved closer, and he stopped to kiss her again, before walking on. In a few hours, they had forged a connection that wouldn’t easily be forgotten.
At her door, Massimo pressed his lips against hers. “I don’t think I should impose on you any more tonight, Bella. Just promise me, we’ll reconnect soon.”
India smiled. There was nothing she wanted more than to invite this gorgeous man into her apartment and make love to him—something that never happened to her—but she couldn’t drag him into her mess of a life. “You have my number.”
“And you have mine. I’ll be disappointed if someone else plays your love interest in your music video.”
She laughed. “That won’t happen. I’ll call you.” She hoped beyond hope he didn’t realize she was lying.
* * *
After he was gone, and she dead bolted her door and checked that her windows were locked, India curled up on the couch and called Lazlo back.
“You okay, bub?” he said.
“Not really. I can’t believe they let Carter out, Laz. After everything… everything.” Her voice broke but she was determined not to cry.
“He won’t get near you, Indy, I promise.” Lazlo sighed. “The one good thing is that the tour is over, and you can go anywhere. He won’t be able to find you.”
“Exiled again.” India closed her eyes. She knew this all too well: a life of disguise and solitude forced upon her by a man obsessed with her. She had other stalkers—it was an occupational hazard for people in the entertainment business—but no one as relentless, as destructive as Braydon Carter.
No one as terrifying.
“How was Massimo Verdi?”
India’s heart thumped sadly. “A sweetheart. Surprisingly, a real sweetheart. Damn it.”
“I’m sorry, Indy. I wish you would find someone who…well, you know.”
India chuckled softly. “I don’t need a white knight, Laz. I have you.” She sighed. “So, what do you suggest?”
“Leave Venice, obviously. Pick a country and get on a plane. When you’re there, call me, and we’ll step up security and find you a place to live. You have your credit cards?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Listen, Jess knows about this, too, and she’s going to challenge the release.”
Jess Olden was India’s best friend and her lawyer, a stunningly beautiful woman who was a pit bull in the courtroom. India smiled fondly. “I bet she is. Tell her I love her and thank you.”
“I will. Jesus, Indy, I’m so sorry about this. I thought we had finally gotten past this cloak and dagger stuff.”
India stared out of the window at the Venetian night and tried not to cry. “Me, too, Laz. Me, too.”
* * *
Massimo Verdi spent the next few days on a press junket for his new movie but every moment he thought about India Blue: her soft, dark hair that fell below her shoulders, those large brown eyes, and perfect rose lips. He could still smell her delicate scent and his body felt charged and on edge. He needed to see her again; that was now an imperative.
After his last interview, he fended off the meeting requests from his agent and his publicist and retreated to his hotel room, decompressing from talking all day. Massimo enjoyed the junkets to a certain extent, but he also valued his privacy. He changed out of the Saville Row suit he wore and got into a sweater and jeans, flicking on the TV and ordering room service. Before the food arrived, he called Diana, and she grilled him about what happened. “Your note was the opposite of subtle, Diana.”
Diana was unrepentant. “So? Did you fuck each other silly?”
Massimo laughed. “No, we didn’t. We were interrupted and India had something else to deal with.”
“Well, don’t let her run away from you, Mass. She has a habit of pulling away even when everyone else can see what she wants. And she wants you, believe me. I have never seen her so…befuddled.”
“Befuddled?” Massimo was curious.
“Okay then, aroused. She was horny for you. Can I make it any clearer?” Massimo heard Grey muttering in the background, and Diana clicked her tongue at him. “I’m not interfering.”
“Do you think it would be inappropriate for me to show up at her door?”
“Go for it. She’ll get scared and try to push you away. Don’t let her get away, Massi.”
After the call, he slowly ate his steak and salad, processing what Diana said. He sensed India might be a flight risk. There was something so vulnerable about her. Why did she look so devastated when her brother called? He grabbed his laptop and did a search on her. Strange. For someone so high profile, there was very little information about her on the internet—plenty of gossip and speculation, but actual facts…
Weird.
Massimo closed the laptop and sat back. No, he wouldn’t learn a thing from the web about this woman. To get to know her means being with her. He got up and grabbed his
coat, stepping out into the cool Venice night. After all, he knew where she lived. He strode through the streets, ignoring the people who stared at him, recognizing their number one movie star.
The doorman at India’s apartment building recognized him and let him in with a smile. “How can I help you tonight, Mr. Verdi? Always a pleasure to see you.”
Massimo smiled back. “I’m here to see Signora Blue, thank you.”
“Oh.”
Massimo stopped. The doorman looked uncomfortable. “What is it?”
“I’m afraid Signora Blue has left, Mr. Verdi.”
“Left? You mean she’s out for the evening?” Even as he said the words, he knew what the man meant. India had left the building, the apartment, the city.
She was gone.
Chapter Four - Faded
Helsinki, Finland
* * *
India cranked up the heat in the small apartment Lazlo rented for her in the Finnish capital and curled up on the couch to watch the falling snow outside. Everything was covered white in this beautiful city, and it gave India some comfort. Surely, nothing bad could happen in a place like this, right?
Lazlo had this apartment rented for her before she even boarded the plane in Venice; she admired his tenacious, efficient manner. They grew up together, overlooking their fourteen-year age difference, both living with their single mothers in a commune in Canada, living in Maupin’s world in San Francisco, and finally settling in a New York apartment with no hot water and only a mattress on the floor. But they were happy. Lazlo’s fiery mom, Hanna, was a radical feminist. She and India’s mother, the flighty, dreamer Priya, were polar opposites but the best of friends. Even when Lazlo’s father had another son, Gabriel, with another woman, and the child was dumped on Hanna to raise, they were a joyous, thoughtful, creative group of nomads, working odd jobs and helping their communities as they had very little themselves.
When Lazlo, Gabe, and India had grown and started earning an income, Hanna refused their help. “I’m happy, my darlings,” she would tell them. After India’s mom died, Hanna treated India as her own, raising her to be a strong, capable woman, never reliant on a man.
Any man. India sighed. Massimo Verdi wasn’t just any man, and yet she ran from him the second she had reason to. Ever since that night, she dreamt of making love to him, that thick cock of his thrusting deep inside her, his full mouth kissing her, thoughts of tangling her fingers in his dark curls.
Those dreamy, green eyes…
Thinking about him wasn’t a good idea now that her whole life was on hold again. God damn you, Braydon Carter! Haven’t you done enough?
The fear of being murdered numbed her; she almost got used to the feeling that her life was limited. Staring out at the snowflakes, she rubbed her abdomen. The scars would always be there; the physical ones faded, but the psychological ones?
Fuck this. India got up from the couch and went to the other room, where a piano stood. She would write songs. That was what she was born to do.
She ran through the tracks she played to Massimo first and began to write a treatment for the video he agreed to costar in. She tore up the first three—all of them way too raunchy for a video—but it improved her mood to daydream about filming sex scenes with Massimo.
* * *
Hurting…
* * *
As the girl sings the opening bars, she escapes a masquerade ball and runs from her lover after seeing him flirt with another woman. As the pace of the song picks up, a chase through Venice begins as the lover pursues her, desperate to win her back.
As the song reaches the bridge, they face each other across one of the beautiful piazzas. His dark-green eyes are intense, almost dangerous-looking, and she tries to resist but remembers their lovemaking—passionate, uninhibited, a meeting of true soulmates—lovers predestined. As he approaches and takes her in his arms, they dance, almost mirroring their lovemaking. Then masked enemies approach and try to tear the lovers apart. They succeed and the two are buried under a miasma of malevolence. As the song closes, the crowds disperse revealing the man holding his dead lover in his arms as the camera pans out, knowing it was his awful behavior that led to this…
* * *
India put her pen down. “Wow, you went dark,” she noted. “Way dark. Miasma of malevolence?” She chuckled and rolled her eyes but there was something about the idea she really treasured. Something…cathartic. She wondered what Massimo would think of it.
For a moment, she chewed on her lip and then grabbed her laptop, doing what she shouldn’t do at any cost.
Type the name Massimo Verdi into a search engine.
* * *
If you want to continue reading this story,
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©Copyright 2020 by Alizeh Valentine – All Rights Reserved
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A Kiss of Winter: A Second Chance Christmas Romance (Dreams Fulfilled Book 3) Page 10
