Mr. London

by Margot Scott

  He decided to leave it all behind. Alex knew it was the right decision for him. He needed a new life, needed to start over. Alex did everything he could to forget his past. He went underground – no address, no phone number, no credit cards. He travelled all over the world, using a fake passport, with a fake name and numerous fake ID cards that the government had so kindly given him before he quit.

  After a couple of years of drifting, he pulled himself together. Alex decided to start his own luxury hotel real-estate development company. He had always had an interest in buildings, and in building things. The process of building something new helped Alex rebuild a new life for himself. It became his version of therapy. Alex had been fearless in his former work and had rediscovered that part of his character. Hard work, fearless risk taking and rising property values had turned him into a billionaire. Alex had worked relentlessly from the start, and with the help of an array of outside investors, the business became extremely successful, with luxury hotels across the globe, and Alex sitting atop a massive empire.

  His grief for Michelle had subsided over the years, and he had tried to move on. He attempted to date, but found it was too time-consuming and emotionally exhausting for him. The women he met seemed to always want more from him than what he could give. Quick, no-strings-attached sex became his usual experience with women. He wanted to give and receive physical pleasure, but once it was over, he wanted nothing more.

  Over time, he developed a reputation – Playboy Mogul. Alex liked his reputation. It made life easier in a lot of ways. Women knew what they were getting when they got involved with him – a fantastic fuck and a quick goodbye. It was better that way. Safer for him and anyone he got involved with. Some women thought they could change him, that all he needed was a good woman. They were wrong. He’d had a good woman – Michelle – and no one could replace her.

  And that was exactly how Alex operated – until Katherine. He didn’t know what it was about her that was different. He just knew that she was unlike all the others. For the first time since Michelle, he considered a real relationship. At first, Alex thought it was just a passing fancy and nothing more. But the more time he spent with Katherine the more he knew he felt something for her.

  His feelings for Katherine scared him. Developing feelings for someone was not something Alex had experienced since Michelle. And his past was something he didn’t know how to explain. Or even if he needed to. It had been seven years. He had long since quit. He knew that his past could still find its way into his present. But, so far, it had not. Alex planned to keep it that way.

  Chapter 12

  I awake in Alex’s bed, blinking the sleep out of my eyes. Stretching, I feel the softness of the cotton sheets against my skin. I sit up, pushing the duvet to the side. No sign of Alex. Wrapping the sheet around me, I walk quietly to the door. Slowly, I crack the door open an inch and peek outside. Alex is in the kitchen, opening the refrigerator. I hear the sizzle of bacon and eggs, the aroma of fresh brewed coffee.

  I close the door quietly and turn back, standing in the middle of the room, feeling a little awkward. I see a thick, plush white robe lying on a chair. Alex must have left it there for me. Grateful for the robe, I wrap it around me, pulling it tight, and walk towards the kitchen.

  “Good morning, Katherine,” Alex says, orange juice carton in hand. He puts the juice down and embraces me, his strong arms wrapping around me.

  “Good morning to you,” I murmur softly. He kisses me, a quick kiss on the lips, and takes a step back, looking me up and down.

  “You look so sexy in the morning,” Alex says, his voice smooth as silk.

  “Thanks, so do you,” I say, laughing. And he does. He’s wearing a white tee-shirt that outlines his muscular chest and a pair of navy blue pajama bottoms.

  “I’m cooking breakfast – bacon, eggs, toast. I can make something else for you if you’d like, or order something.”

  “This is perfect, thank you. It smells delicious,” I say, walking over to the stove, inspecting the food. “I didn’t know you liked to cook.”

  “I don’t cook that often, I don’t really have the time. But when I do, I enjoy it. Especially when I have someone to cook for.” He places his hand on my lower back, trailing down over my ass.

  “I’m sure you’ve had a lot of women to cook for,” I say, winking at him.

  “Mmm…..I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he responds, grinning. “Don’t believe everything you’ve heard about me.”

  “Oh? So there’s no truth to the rumors?” I ask, playfully.

  “Well……maybe a bit of truth. But just a bit,” he says teasingly, turning back to the stove. I laugh and take a sip of the orange juice.

  “I’ve ordered some fresh clothes for you. Antonio should be bringing those shortly,” he says.

  “Oh, thank you.” This man thinks of everything. It’s something I’m not used to. The boys back home would just toss me one of their shirts and call it a day. “That’s very kind of you to think of that.”

  “Of course. You should always be taken care of, in all ways,” Alex says, matter-of-factly.

  A knock on the door and Alex hurries to answer it. He returns a few moments later with a bag from Harrods department store. “I’ll just put this in the bedroom,” he says.

  Returning, we sit down to eat breakfast. I dig in, ravenous. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I started eating. The food is delicious, the flavors popping in my mouth.

  “Hungry?” Alex asks, watching me devour the breakfast.

  “I guess I worked up an appetite,” I reply, taking a bite of bacon.

  Alex laughs. “It appears that you have,” he says. “How do you like living in London?”

  “I love it. The history, culture, the people…..it’s so different from the States. I feel so lucky to be here.”

  “And I feel lucky that you’re here as well.” He takes my hand, giving it a squeeze. “And not just personally, but also professionally. You have been a tremendous asset with the Cosmo hotel development. I want you to know that.” I hear the sincerity in his voice.

  “Thank you, Alex. That means a lot to me.” We gaze at each other briefly, a look passing between us.

  I clear my throat, take a sip of juice. “There’s something I’m curious about – I never see you in the same car twice. Just something I’ve noticed.”

  Alex chuckles, “Yes, I change cars pretty often.” He smiles, shrugging his shoulders. “What can I say? I love cars, always have. So when I had the opportunity to invest in a major luxury car rental company came along, I took it.”

  “So, because you’re a shareholder of the company, you’re allowed to rent their cars whenever you’d like?”

  Alex nods, “That’s right. I’m a very good customer.”

  “Well, a different car every week sounds like fun,” I say, smiling. Hmm. I can’t put my finger on it, but I get the feeling there’s more to this story than he’s telling me.

  Alex changes the subject, wanting to know more about my background. I tell him about all about Dalton, Georgia, my parents and two older brothers. He listens intently, making comments at times.

  “And what about you, Alex. Have you always lived in London?”

  “Oh, I’ve lived here and there. But, mostly in London,” he replies, vaguely.

  “What about your family?”

  “Both of my parents are deceased, and I’m an only child.” I nod, waiting for more. He says nothing else.

  “I heard you were in the military before you started the real-estate business,” I say, wondering how much more I should ask. He obviously doesn’t feel comfortable talking about himself.

  Back off. Let him tell you what he wants, and leave the rest alone.

  “Yes, you heard correctly,” he responds, measuring his words. “I was in the military, then retired after ten years. Afterwards, I founded McCall Enterprises.” He pushes his plate to the side, and looks at my empty plate. “Can I get you anything els
e?” he asks.

  “No, thank you. It was delicious.” I smile sweetly, and decide to leave the questions alone. Best not to push it.

  An hour later, I’ve showered and dressed, wearing the clothes Antonio purchased. Intuitively, I know it’s time leave. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.

  “I need to go, Alex. Thank you again for everything,” I say, kissing his cheek softly. Alex is standing in front of me, his gaze fixed on me. He doesn’t say anything, only pulls me towards him, hands resting on my hips. He kisses me, a slow, deep kiss. Our lips part and I rest my head on his shoulder, catching my breath. I wish time could stop at this moment.

  “Give me a few minutes to put some clothes on, and I’ll drive you home,” he says.

  “No, no. That’s not necessary. I’ll get a cab,” I protest, while gathering my things.

  He holds his hand up. “Katherine, please. Let me at least have Antonio drive you home, then. I insist.” I realize there’s no arguing with him, and agree.

  “Alright, call Antonio. But, really, you don’t have to do this.”

  “I know I don’t. I want to,” he says softly, stroking my cheek.

  Antonio arrives thirty minutes later with an Audi. Alex escorts me to the underground parking area, helping me into the car.

  “Have a good weekend, Katherine.”

  “You, too. I’ll see you Monday.” He gives me a lingering kiss, then closes the door. Alex speaks briefly to Antonio, then steps aside as the car glides smoothly away. I lean back against the seat and think about Alex and our night together and where it might lead.

  Chapter 13

  The man observed the blonde woman exiting the Audi, the driver assisting her out of the car. He had been keeping surveillance of her residence, watching her comings and goings for the past week now. He felt he had adequate knowledge of her daily routine. It was no surprise when he saw McCall driving up last night in his sleek Mercedes, whisking her off on what he figured was a date. He had watched her in the front lobby of the flat, nervously playing with her necklace, fidgeting with her clothes. The man knew instantly she was waiting for McCall.

  And now she was returning home, after spending the night with McCall. The man smiled. This was good. Very good. McCall appeared to be interested in her, much more than any previous woman. She was a distraction for McCall, which would make his job much easier.

  He turned his cold dark eyes back to the pretty blonde, watched her punch in a code to enter the building, and disappear inside. Katherine Harris was her name. He had obtained a full profile on her background, family, and education. Acquiring information on civilians was usually a simple task anyway. Hacking into McCall Enterprises’ employee database, however, did require a little more effort, but after a few hours he was able to worm into their system undetected and locate her information.

  He would continue to watch and wait, gathering as much information about her as possible. Besides, observing her was not a hardship. Natural blonde hair, slim with curves in all the right places, ivory complexion – she was hard not to miss. He zeroed in on her, the way a lion would stalk its prey. Watching and waiting until the time was right to go in for the kill.

  Alex stood in the lavishly decorated living room of Mr. and Mrs. Howard Snider, wondering how soon he could leave before it looked rude. It was Saturday night and he wished he was with Katherine. She had left that morning, insisting she return home. He had since thought about her the rest of the day. He briefly considered asking her to join him tonight, but decided against it, thinking it might be too much too soon. He knew with Katherine he needed to take things slowly. Besides, he didn’t wish to subject her to this kind of torture.

  And so here he was at another boring dinner party. However, Howard Snider was on the board of directors at McCall Enterprise’s as well as heavily invested in a number of company projects, and as such, Alex was expected to attend his party. This was part of the job he hated – “networking” as they like to call it these days. Or as Alex liked to call it “schmoozing with assholes.” It was just another aspect of the business, and he played his part well. He flashed his brilliant smile, shook hands, and talked business to get business.

  He wondered what Katherine was doing, and if she was thinking of him as he was of her. He smiled to himself, replaying their night of passion over in his mind. Flashbacks of her body, her mouth, her breasts, kept coming back to him. The sex was different with her and he knew why. He knew she wasn’t just a quick fuck.

  Alex wished he could be more open with her about himself. He expected the questions, and did his best to answer them without giving too much information. He couldn’t take the chance of her knowing too much - at least not right now. He would see how things developed with Katherine, and if he needed to divulge his past, he would. But not until then.

  London, 2003

  From all outward appearances, Thomas Brunello lived a quiet life in a quiet suburb outside of London. He lived alone, in a one-level cottage-style home, having lived there for sixteen years. He enjoyed gardening and making homemade pasta. Thomas kept to himself, saying hello to neighbors in passing, and then going about his business. What his neighbors didn’t know about was his colorful and violent past. Thomas Brunello was a former Italian Mafia boss, on the list of the top-ten most wanted criminals, a fugitive on the run from the Italian authorities. Formerly known as Vincent “Vinnie” Rossi, he fled from Naples, first to the United States, then to England, desperately trying to escape life in prison, leaving behind his wife and only son.

  Vinnie was born in a small village outside of Naples, in the south of Italy. As a child, he was hard to handle, constantly fighting with his eight siblings, classmates, or neighborhood children. By the time he was sixteen he had done time in three juvenile delinquent centers for various acts of violence, including assault and battery, car theft, and drug possession. At age eighteen, realizing he could put his criminal skills to better use, he joined the Mafia. Vinnie moved from small time, petty crimes, to the big time – international drug trafficking, counterfeiting, military arms trafficking, and money laundering. Vinnie quickly climbed the ranks. At twenty-two, he became head boss after the former boss was murdered while in bed with a sixteen year old prostitute.

  Vinnie was ruthless and extremely violent – he once had an Italian judge murdered for speaking out against the Mafia. When one of the judge’s bodyguards opened the car door for the judge and his wife, the car was remotely detonated, apparently packed with explosives, killing everyone within a twelve foot radius. Vinnie sent a message out to everyone, and the message was heard loud and clear.

  After years of building a case against Vinnie, the Italian government had enough evidence against him to prosecute. A warrant was issued for his arrest. Vinnie fled Naples with the aide of his men and was smuggled into the States. He lived in New York City for ten years, adopting the name Carl Moretti, posing as a friendly, mild-mannered man, opening his own butcher shop. Two years later, the FBI, in correspondence with the Italian police, raided his apartment, only to find Vinnie had already fled, tipped off by one of his Mafia contacts.

  Vinnie escaped to London, England this time, and took the name Thomas Brunello. Instead of selling meat, he sold men’s clothes in a department store. He made a few changes to his appearance – grew a mustache, lost thirty pounds, a few nips and tucks courtesy of a skilled plastic surgeon. And he made sure to keep a very low profile. Vinnie lived his quiet life in London for sixteen years, undetected – or so he thought.

  On a hot summer’s night in the middle of August, Vincent Rossi’s life came to a violent end. The neighbors all heard the sound of the paramedics blaring, had stepped outside in their pajamas and robes, looking in disbelief when they saw the outline of Vinnie’s dead body on a stretcher, covered in a white sheet. What Vinnie’s neighbors didn’t know was that before the paramedics, before the blaring horns, before the flashing lights, two men, dressed in head to toe black, face masks pulled down, had arrived at Vinnie’s
home. One man stood outside, his body flat against the side of the house, watching guard. The other man stealthily entered Vinnie’s home. Minutes later, Vinnie was shot point blank in the chest, a silencer used to ensure no loud, piercing gunshot was heard in the dead of night.

  Chapter 14

  Saturday, five o’clock pm, and I’m getting ready for Sandra’s dinner party. Of course, Sandra has no idea about my night with Alex – and I plan on keeping that way, for now.

  I stare at my reflection in the mirror, summoning my energy for the dinner party. I appreciate Sandra’s concern and completely understand her wanting introduce me to other people. But the truth is, I wasn’t interested. Not anymore. Not after last night. Alex and I have something between us. Where it’s leading, I don’t know, but I want to find out.

  I tell myself to just go and have a good time. Alex and I had an incredible night, for sure. But, we have no commitment to each other, no promises to one another. For all I know, he could be out banging some other woman at this very moment. And given his reputation, it wouldn’t be that surprising if he was. I shake my head, trying not to think about it.

  In fact, the more I think about it, the more I realize that going out and meeting some new people is what I need. Best to keep my options open, I decide, sighing deeply. This was not going to be easy.

  I arrive at the party an hour later, smiling, putting my best foot forward. “Hello!” Sandra greets me warmly. We exchange hugs and quick pecks on each cheek. “You look great,” she says.

  “Thank you, so do you,” I reply.

  “Katherine, this is Harry,” Sandra says, pulling Harry towards her.

  “Hello, so nice to meet you,” I say to him, extending my hand.

  “And you, too. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Harry replies, smiling broadly, shaking my hand. Harry has an easy smile, and a warm likeableness to him, much like Sandra. They make a nice couple, and I can see that Harry adores her.