Femme Fatale Loved (Pericolo #3)

by Kirsty-Anne Still

“Then get up and find Alessa, so you’re not alone.” I hear how playful he’s being, but he’s also able to motivate me. “And before you continue, I can practically hear the wheels in your head churning out every doubt under the sun like they were on the drive to the airport. Stop it!” he yells, playfully berating me. “She’s like a sister to you, Amelia. You miss her and you know she misses you. It’s time to give her back her family, too.”

  “When did you become quite the knowledgeable male?”

  “The moment you let me into your life,” he replies, chuckling. “Nothing I know more than the woman I love. Now, do you know where Alessa is from your hotel?”

  “She’s about a ten-minute drive, I think,” I reply, remembering the cab driver’s card I have. “I’m going to take a shower then head out. I want to get this ball rolling and sitting in my hotel room isn’t doing that.”

  “It’s delaying the inevitable,” he agrees. “Go take a shower and give me a call before you go to bed.”

  “I will,” I say, reminding myself of the time difference. “I love you,” I whisper down the line.

  “Not as much as I love you, sweetheart. Call me tonight.”

  “I promise I will,” I say and put the phone down without a bye. It’s not our thing, and I hate knowing like I’m not going to be heading home to him tonight.

  I sit back up, look at the clock on the bedside table, and notice it’s almost three in the afternoon. It’s a perfect time to go and find Alessa. I’ll surprise her and then decide where we go from there. I know she won’t cast me aside and forget me, but I also know she lives under a new name here, so she may be more on guard around me and unwilling.

  I’m not leaving, though, until I’m sure she’s heard me out.

  ***

  As I stand under the shower, the spray billowing down to sprinkle me with lukewarm water, my body temperature begins to lower, and I find my body revived and refreshed. As I roll my head around, allowing the water to rush down the curve of my neck without wetting my hair, I still all movement to just enjoy the water spray over me.

  I only move to reach out for some body-wash and begin to wash. Again, I still, but only as my hand brushes over my stomach and I feel the slight difference in my skin where scars mar my body. It hits me why I was in such a hurry to make it to California. With the anniversary of Manuel’s death looming, I’m still in as much denial as I was when I woke up in that hospital.

  I’m running from remembering.

  A year later, I’m so wrapped up in my grief that I’ve become used to it. It’s lived beside the happiness because I allowed myself to wash over any form of bereavement with a smile and a moment to revel in the fact I’m alive. I’m still here and able to live.

  I put a hand out to the shower wall, steadying myself for a moment.

  Have I been running from my emotions? Have I only tricked myself into believing that I survived the five stages of grief?

  I shakily reach for the nozzle and shut the water off. I can’t stay cloistered in that small space with my mind running a million miles a minute when I’m struggling to breathe. Reaching past the curtain, I tug on my towel and make quick work to wrap my slender frame in the fluffy material. Stepping out into the steamy room, I approach the sink and reach up to wipe the condensation away from the mirror’s pane. I find myself staring back at me, and I truly look at the haggard version left behind.

  It’s not a lie that I am skinnier than I was. From the effects of stress and grief, I guess, but I notice the darkening patches under my eyes, ones caused by overwork and lack of sleep.

  While my life has an effect on me health wise, I cannot deny I’m happy. I lived so long with a false sense of it that when I finally, truly gave myself to the feeling, it has hit me hard. My life isn’t what it was, but it is what I wanted. Standing here, I know that. My life choices led me here because it’s time I give back.

  This is why I’m here.

  I’m here to restore my brother, offering my family that last missing piece. Alessandra is the last remaining person who can restore us. She was such an important part of our family for so long that when Enzo cut her from his life, he didn’t realize he cut her from ours, too.

  I hadn’t even realized that fact until now.

  We may have lived the last year building houses into homes, working past the voids in our family unit, and trying to set some roots with real jobs, real responsibility, and real lives, but we haven’t even begun living. Not yet anyway.

  My resolve to make this right strengthens with every passing minute. It’s time to hunt down Alessa and really make sense of what her life has become after being a part of our family.

  I head over to my suitcase on the bed, quickly gazing out the window to see if the weather has changed. Unlike New York weather, California seems to be consistent. I hate to say it, but I could find myself living on this side of the country, along this coastline in this zip code. The weather is just an added bonus.

  I open my suitcase, prepared to dig out a dress to accommodate the weather outside. I stall; my breath stills as I gaze down at one of Zane’s shirts sitting on the top. I hadn’t packed it. I notice a small square piece of white paper, and I waste no time to snatch it away.

  I open it hastily and gaze at Zane’s scrawl across it.

  You are never alone.

  Not even across the country.

  This is for when you miss me.

  Quando saremo di nuovo insieme, Signorina Abbiati.

  Z xx

  I feel my heart blossom and swell in my chest, and I find a small smile gracing my lips. Even though I’m miles apart, that man speaking Italian to me drives me crazy. I cannot wait to be back with him, and from his bilingual note, he can’t either.

  I have so many driving forces to make sure I don’t forget why I’m here, but I really needed this one. I decide to hurry and grab the dress folded under Zane’s shirt. It’s time to get out and stop procrastinating. I’m Amelia Abbiati; this is the easiest mission I’ve ever had. What makes it easier is that Alessa knows me. She’s not an enemy, and she’s no stranger.

  But right now, she’s an outsider, and that’s what makes this so damn difficult. It’s that thought that makes me falter and wonder if this will be as easy as I wanted it to be. But I won’t know until I try, so it’s time to get ready and start this.

  It all begins with step one of what I’m doing here – invade Alessandra Massi’s life.

  ***

  I don’t take my time to get back onto the streets of Santa Barbara. I’ve changed into a wrap dress, feeling like I’ve been cast back to one of my father’s minions, but my confidence exudes from the idea of what I could come from this moment of my life. The moment I was dressed, I fled my room, a sudden burst of confidence ignited in me.

  Now that I’m out, I’m more enthusiastic to find her. I graze over the piece of paper, looking from the numbers on the white sheet to the numbers on the storefronts. I know Alessa’s shop is along here, so it’s just finding it.

  When I find it, I remove my sunglasses to place upon my head and gaze up at the sign above the door and feel my heart rush. I didn’t have a shop name, just an address, but now that I’ve found it, I know this is her boutique.

  ‘INFINITO’

  Her shop means infinity in Italian, simple and effective, or well, it is if you know the past she’s running from. It’s something Enzo would say to her over and over again – “There are infinite ways I could love you, Alessandra Massi, but not an infinite amount of times to show you. Infinito.” It was their saying, the thing that made me want to gag – until I found my own forever love.

  I walk in behind two other women, looking like I’m part of a small crowd, all the while shoving the piece of paper back into my bag. As the two women explore the store, I join them, going over to the far wall where a display of gorgeous necklaces hangs. A sense of pride overwhelms me as I gaze around the store. Alessa made her dream come true with this place, filling it with the finest pie
ces of jewelry. These are pieces made to empower women, allow them to feel sensual, to feel like a queen whenever they adore themselves with them.

  “Can I help you?” Alessa’s voice breaks the silence in the boutique.

  “Well, I was hoping so,” I reply sweetly, turning on my spot, taking the sunglasses from on top of my head as I come to face her. I then add my final hit - “Alice.”

  “Amelia,” Alessa manages to utter as all blood disappears from her face. She just gawps at me, unable to form words as her jaw turns slack and her eyes watch me intently.

  “You don’t look too happy to see me,” I try to tease, giving her a small smile.

  “You can’t be here,” she says, grabbing me by my elbow, pulling me to the side of the shop, and ushering me through the door to the back room. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here for you,” I say, crossing my arms. “No other reason for me to come all the way to California.”

  “But why?” she asks, exacting my position and positioning herself in front of the doorway. “What possible reason could you have for being in California?”

  “Enzo,” I say, cutting all attitude and offering her the lost girl I am when it comes to my brother.

  It seems to be enough for her to understand and she leaves to return to the store floor. I follow to watch her approach an exuberant redhead. Her smile drops, though. When she sees Alessa’s new fallen expression, it seems she takes note that this is a serious situation.

  “Liv, I’m leaving you in charge.” Alessa addresses the redhead. “I’m going home early.”

  Alessa hands over her keys, approaches me enough to grab her own bag and latches onto my bicep, tearing me from the shop. She doesn’t release me when we make it out onto the sidewalk; instead, she walks with me, dragging me behind her. I don’t complain because all the while she’s doing this, I’m with her. When we are far enough down the sidewalk, she finally releases me.

  “What are you doing here? You said Enzo, but he’s not been a part of my life for years. So what is it?”

  I see she’s going to be cagey, and she’s not going to be easy to get on my side, so I make sure I’m honest because, in reality, I have missed having Alessa in my life. She was like my sister for all intents and purposes, much like Allana is, but Alessa was always there when times got hard in the house.

  “I wanted to see how you were,” I say, offering a shrug.

  “Bullshit,” she admonishes, narrowing her gaze. “You never could lie to me, Amelia, so don’t you dare start fresh today. I know that’s not the real reason. It might be one of many, but it’s not the sole reason.”

  “As I said,” I begin, sighing, “I’m here with business to do with Enzo. I’m here for you and Enzo.”

  Now, I see her face flush once more, but this time, she looks grief-stricken.

  “Amelia, not this again. I can’t do that,” she tells me, stepping back and placing distance between us. “I have finally found a place that doesn’t scream Enzo, and I am at peace with not having him in my life.”

  “Bullshit,” I reply, catching her bluff. I look at her incredulously and laugh mirthlessly. “You tell me you can tell when I’m lying; well, I can you, too. So cut the bullshit, ‘Lessa, and just hear me out.”

  There’s a moment of deliberation. I can see she’s annoyed at my sudden reappearance to reap all sorts of demons on her, but I can see she wants to know, she wants to learn more. She’s still a captive of true love, and she knows she can’t deny it.

  “Fine,” she replies, not catching my eye contact, and looks down the boulevard. “We’re going to a bar for this,” she warns, finally gracing me with a look. “I need alcohol if you’re about to bring this on me.”

  “You can’t make yourself forget,” I admonish, placing my hands on my hips. “Alcohol doesn’t help matters like this.”

  “No, but it helps to numb the moment,” she says and tears off in the direction of a bar to our left.

  As I follow, I wonder what can of worms I’ve decided to open. This new Alessa terrifies me. The one from years ago was fun, playful, loving … forgiving. This Alessa is harsh, unwilling, and shut off. She’s a victim of love, changed and morphed by its potency. She’s what I could’ve become. She’s what I want to save – much like Enzo, they need one another. They need their second chances.

  We slow enough for Alessa to turn into a bar, and I look quickly at the name scrawled across the front – Mia Regina. A chill runs down my spine, and a wave of familiarity rushes over me. I’m not sure why, but I feel like this is an omen, a sense of what’s to come, but I shake it off. I have to keep my head on straight because I have to make Alessa see sense.

  I scurry inside; the space is shadowed by the slightly tinted windows, keeping most of the sun’s rays from filling the space. People are already sitting around enjoying a light lunch and a few drinks, but Alessa ignores them to make a beeline for the bar. I hear her order two scotch on the rocks, and from her composure, I wonder if they’re both for her. She barely looks at me, let alone speaks to me as she waits for the drinks, pays, and leaves me standing at the bar to head to a booth in the far back corner – where no one is sitting.

  Now, my nerves are getting to me, and once seated, Alessa looks at me and grins, clearly taking notice of my demeanor.

  “Not like you to be nervous,” she remarks coldly.

  “Not like you to be such a bitch,” I retort, taking my side of the booth opposite her.

  There’s a tense moment, but then we both begin to grin at one another, giggling as if transported back to a time when she still lived with us; when we had girl time and talked until the sun came up the following morning.

  “Look,” Alessa begins, sitting forward enough to wrap her hands around her glass, “I don’t mean to be brazen and cold with you, Lia, it’s just it’s what I know now. It’s who I’ve become while being here.”

  “You live, eat, and breathe being a businesswoman,” I comment, making sure she notices I had noted.

  She nods at me, pulling her drink closer to her.

  “You seem happier, though,” she comments, taking a sip of her drink before placing it down to turn it in her palms.

  “I am,” I reply, quietening my voice. “But that’s what I’m here to discuss.” I watch as she squares her shoulders, her muscle tense, and her hands tighten around her tumbler. “I know it’s hard for you, Alessa, I do, but you’re my last hope.”

  “I don’t know what I can do for you.”

  “You do,” I reply, my voice stern and sharp.

  Her eyes widen on my response; she shakes her head, and I notice her eyes glimmer with tears as they sprinkle their way across her lashes. She’s about to enter denial, force me to try to give up, but I won’t turn my back on this feat.

  “He’s as lost as you are,” I comment, trying to win her over.

  “He decided this path!” she sneers, her voice heightening. “This life I live is all because of him, Lia. He broke up with me when we were still so in love with one another! So I don’t know what I can possibly do for him!”

  “Everything,” I reply, my tone wistful and calm. “Absolutely everything.” I feel my eyes water. I wish I weren’t so invested in this situation, but I am. I have to make sure she understands how much Enzo’s newfound torture is affecting all of us, but I won’t lay that on her yet that he came to find her. I won’t ask about her engagement. I just need her. Not to get her with Enzo romantically, but to be his saving grace. “He’s so lost right now, ‘Lessa. I don’t know what to do anymore. He’s lost, and I can’t save him. Only you can. I know what he did killed a part of you, and I understand how it feels, but sometimes, we lose our way and can’t find our way back alone.”

  “Amelia,” she starts, but I shake my head to make her pause.

  I pause, breathing heavily and decide to brace myself for this. “What do you say, Alessa ... will you come back with me to help him?”

  As her silence hits, I find the
pounding of my heart pulsates in my ears, the throb of my pulse notable in my throat. I feel like I’m on tenterhooks, and the longer she stares at me without any verbal response, the more my hope dwindles.

  Then I realize her silence can only mean that I’m too late, and all my hope entirely dissolves. It wasn’t planned, nor did I want to, but I burst into tears.

  In reality, I’m terrified the only salvation Enzo needs is one who’s moved past waiting for their moment to play hero.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  We never got further than that point yesterday.

  After I had caved to everything I was feeling, Alessa remarked that we should go our separate ways, get an early night, and start anew today. I agreed, heading back to the hotel only to call Zane and find he was out on a job. It felt like just my luck, so I texted him and said I was exhausted; I can worry him with my issues today when I catch him.

  I look back at the text and look back up. She told me to meet her at a beachfront bar for breakfast, but I’m so new to this part of town, I’m worried I’m in the wrong place. As I get closer, I start to make out the letters of the sign and know I’m in the right place. I have to admit, the journey here has me so exhausted that I’m begging for this to be the right restaurant.

  “Amelia!” Alessa yells out, standing up from her place in the restaurant. She even waves to make me see her more, and I grin, before approaching. “What took you so long?”

  “I walked,” I murmur, giving her a hug.

  “From Hotel Milo?!” she gasps, letting me go.

  “I was told it was a ten-minute walk,” I admit, sitting down exhaustedly. “So I could do with a mimosa and something good to eat.”

  “Well, you came to the right spot,” she comments, calling for a waiter. She orders us drinks and a fruit salad and tells him we’ll be ready to order when he comes back. “It’s going to be a long day, so we might as well start it right, hey, Tesoro?”

  “Yes,” I groan happily over the thought. She grins wildly, and I watch her carefully. “You seem more like the old Alessa today.”