Monza: Book 2

by Pamela Ann

  “You know what? This is the same bullshit cycle you always throw at me. I’m done loving you. You’re not worthy of it. Trust my words, I’m going to fall in love again, and you’re going to regret this moment for the rest of your life.”

  She seemed hysterical, as if she didn’t know what to think, to say, or to feel.

  “I’m—”

  “You’re what?” I barked. “Sorry, again? Spare me the same old tripe. I’m over it,” I stated with finality as I directed my gaze towards where our son was fighting for his life.

  I had wished things were different, that I could be a part of his life. I had wish I could see him take his first step, cut his first tooth, his first everything, but it wasn’t in the cards for me. It was hard to accept, though I had already signed a contract that gave my rights away.

  Coming to terms with that was so much harder after seeing and meeting Gian Luca. I knew I must, though. I had no choice in the matter.

  “Whatever you need to make sure my son gets the best of everything, just contact Gino. He’ll give you whatever you need, anything at all.”

  I was getting ready to leave. I was forming the right words to tell my son I couldn’t be in his life when I heard her speak behind me.

  “Divorce isn’t an option.”

  I didn’t care what reasons she had. In my eyes, Kimberly served Kimberly. She didn’t care to raise our son with his own father. Instead, she chose to stay married to Anton. She cared for her own benefit, not her son’s and surely not mine.

  She loved me? Ha. That was laughable. I doubted the woman knew how to love.

  Willing to keep ignoring her, I tried to memorize my son, knowing I might not see him for a very, very long time.

  “You think it’s just you who’s hurt? I think of you every waking moment of the day. You have no idea how much it’s costing me not to throw caution to the wind and say to hell with it all, marry you, and have a great little family, but I fucking can’t! I’m afraid I have no choice in the matter. I gave it away.”

  I tensed, knowing that something was amiss. “What do you mean by ‘you gave it away’?”

  “I can’t say…” she said reluctantly, making me spin on my heels to face her.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake! For once, I wish you would just tell me the fucking truth!”

  She looked away, staring at something yet not seeing it at all. “If I do, there’ll be consequences, and I can’t take that risk. God help me, but I just can’t, Luca … not even for you.”

  She was speaking in riddles. Not only was I frustrated and infuriated that I had no clue where she was going with this, but I felt as though she was torn about giving me what I was demanding, despite the fact that she was dying to tell me. At the same time, she knew she couldn’t. Whatever it was, I wasn’t leaving until I heard it from her.

  “Well hell, it’s either you tell me, or I start taking this matter with you seriously and hire the right people to straightened this situation out. My son—my precious boy—is on the line here, so you better start talking.”

  “Your mother offered me to have this child aborted, but I fought not to, and my selfish actions caused irreparable consequences.”

  I saw fireworks from too much anger upon hearing my infamous mother had orchestrated something that had to deal with Kimberly. More importantly, it had to deal with my son whom she had wanted aborted. The wretched woman had the audacity to play with my son’s fate? She had better watch out.

  “How in God’s name did she find out you were pregnant?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think the doctor I went to get checked by told her, or maybe she had me followed. She never really said how she found out.”

  My mother and all the details could be dealt with soon enough. There was another pressing matter I wanted to know. She had stated consequences after Gian Luca, so what wasn’t she telling me?

  “What exactly is on the line here, Kimberly?”

  “My brother’s life.”

  =-=-=-=

  Monza: Book 3

  September 2015

  Barcelona (Andrés)

  Fall 2015

  Nice (Jacques)

  Winter 2015

  A sneak peek of Pamela Ann’s next novel, My Summer in London is attached below…

  Chapter One

  “Miss Serena?” The butler with his bushy yet well-kept eyebrows eyed me with hesitation. “Miss Serena Woods?” he reiterated.

  Making a slight smile, I nodded towards him. “Yes, that’s me,” I whispered timidly.

  His less than warm approach made me feel somehow intimidated. I was sure he could sense that about me. Nervously, I cleared my throat, arching my back a little as I fixed my posture. “Is this the home of Mrs. Margery Elliot?”

  “That it is, young lady,” he uttered in a deep, timbered voice before snapping his fingers.

  In the blink of an eye, a middle-aged woman appeared to fetch my measly luggage before the standoffish butler opened the door wider, silently inviting me inside.

  There was no doubt in my mind that I was out of my depth as I noted my surroundings with immense awe. I’d had no clue Mom had such prominent connections, yet there I was, an exchange student in London for a whole year.

  My parents had a decent amount of income, but nothing of this magnitude. Apparently, my mother had once been a neighbor to a woman who married some wealthy Brit, one who had some serious health issues and only recently passed away after a serious battle with liver damage for over twenty-five years. Upon receiving the devastating news, my mother was concerned for her friend, and in the span of a week, she had concocted an ingenious idea. Well, according to her.

  I wasn’t all that excited when she suggested I study abroad after my devastating break up with Aaron, my boyfriend of four years. Daunted by my failed relationship and a gnawing need for space, I had succumbed to my mother’s insistence, resulting in my present location in London. Chelsea, to be precise.

  “This is Anne. She’ll accompany you to your rooms and help you unpack. You will have approximately an hour to unwind before tea. Would you like that to be brought to you, or would you like to have it out in the garden?”

  Tea? I wasn’t sure if I even liked tea. I was more of a coffee drinker than anything.

  “Well, I was more hoping to meet Margery before anything else.”

  “Mrs. Elliott will be joining you soon. She’ll be back in time for tea,” he quietly informed before giving me a final nod, indicating he was dismissing me.

  Not knowing what to do, I glanced at Anne before saying, “All right. Okay, I guess.”

  “Come with me, Miss Serena,” Anne said chirpily as she started to stride towards the long, winding stairs that were so superbly polished I could clearly see my reflection without a problem.

  Trailing behind her as my eyes gathered my opulent surroundings, I didn’t notice we had come to a halt until she stood and opened the two doors that led to the most beautiful bedroom I would probably ever sleep in for the rest of my life.

  The lovely trappings consisted of silk beddings with contrasting pastels and earth colors. It was vibrant and exuded warmth at the same time.

  “Mrs. Elliot had this quickly redecorated for your arrival. The final touches were done merely a couple days ago. It’s lovely, isn’t it?” She beamed at me as her eyes admired the newly furbished surroundings.

  It was beyond lovely.

  It was … “Exquisite,” I whispered, still in awe of the understated elegance Mrs. Elliot had arranged because of my arrival. “It’s very generous of her to do something so nice.” I think I like her already, I silently added as my smile grew.

  “It gave her something to do. It was a brilliant suggestion by her son.”

  Anne was a shy and timid woman who seemed to be in her early thirties. She had a warm, inviting smile and a pleasant demeanor that made me feel comfortable in her presence.

  How thoughtful of him. My mom was most likely right. Coming here for a study program n
ot only could help me get all the break-up negativity out of my mind, but at the same time, it would be beneficial to have a long-term houseguest for Mrs. Elliot. It was a win-win.

  Striding to the partially opened French windows with a cozy settee next to it, my finger touched the velvety texture of an orchid before I heard someone clear their throat. It sounded so deep I instantly knew it hadn’t come from Anne, but from someone I hadn’t met before.

  I spun around, hoping to greet the person, but I lost my voice the moment my eyes landed on him. I felt as though my entire body was sledge hammered with something so fierce I literally was out of breath.

  He was the most beautiful thing I had ever set my eyes upon. There was an air about him, the grand machismo, something formidable that made me aware he was decisive when it came to what he wanted, and he went after it without hesitation.

  Who was he? More importantly, how old was this man?

  My crazed mind instantly halted when he threw me a crooked, lazy smile, and I swooned on the spot, much to my own embarrassment.

  “Serena?”

  Damn, of course he would be packaged with a husky, sexier-than-thou voice.

  Still looking like I hadn’t seen a perfect male specimen before, I made a facial expression that seemed as if I was in pain, which must have amused him because he laughed a little. I supposed he was used to these awkward encounters.

  “I’m Cruz, Margery’s son,” Mr. Perfection introduced himself with a toe-curling, lopsided grin as he strode towards me, facial pain expression and all.

  I instantly felt faint when those vivid, metallic eyes captured me.

  Holy fucking heaven and hell.

  Chapter Two

  “How do you like London? Is this your first time?” Margery Elliot asked me in a soft, gracious tone.

  Apart from the terminal and the view from the cab, I hadn’t seen much of the city.

  Making a small smile, I made a curt nod. “Yes.” Ma’am? Madam? Everyone was so formal here; as a result, I wasn’t sure how to address her. Maybe Mrs. Elliot would do, like how the rest addressed her in her household? Yeah, it sounded much better. “I … uh … This is my first time.”

  Margery was very well poised, and with the way she spoke, it was as if she was saying something beautiful all the time. It was impressive and hypnotizing at the same time, which made me wonder if she even knew or remembered how to yell at all. She was very soft spoken, very unlike my spontaneous, temperamental yet passionate mother.

  After inquiring about my mom and my life back in Cali, she then directed her attention to her son, asking about some event they were organizing. The opportunity of them conversing gave me a chance to study him unnoticed.

  After our peculiar introduction upstairs, I was surprised Cruz stuck around to join his mother and me for tea. If the situation were reversed, I would most likely stay the heck away from someone who couldn’t stop staring at me, which was, by the way, hard to do, even when I was sitting across from him and his mother.

  It was like my eyes were trained on him. Whatever he did—clear his throat, smile, speak, or the way he sipped his tea—I took it all in, and thus far, I hadn’t found anything repulsive about him. For the past thirty minutes, I had been trying to find something that would turn me off, yet he still remained perfection.

  The ends of his hair curled on the sides, and I was itching to touch them. It reminded me of JFK Junior’s hair, but much better because Cruz had silver eyes, like hot molten mercury, indefinable, untouchable, unattainable.

  It was extraordinary for me to be sitting here, sipping tea, mindlessly having a conversation, all the while day dreaming about the guy sitting across from me. Apart from niceties, he hadn’t really said much to me.

  “I’m home!” a loud voice came from down the hall, making me instantly tense, while Margery perked up at the booming voice.

  “That must be Archer, my youngest son,” she informed me with a proud smile. “Archer?” she gently called out to him.

  “The one and only,” Archer loudly responded as he entered the sitting room.

  Dressed in all black, he took the available seat next to me before extending his hand. “Ah, you must be the mysterious Serena. Welcome to the family.”

  Oh, God. Brothers, two blindingly hot brothers, one with silver eyes and the other blue, but almost alike. The only difference was the height and muscle mass. Though Cruz was clearly the better looking of the two, Archer, I assumed, was the friendliest because he already felt comfortable around me by the way he was sitting too close for propriety’s sake.

  “Are you here to join us for dinner?” Cruz asked him in a cool manner.

  “Not entirely. I’m just here to check-in is all. I have this thing tonight that I have to attend …” He trailed off before granting me his sole attention. “Want to come? I’d like to show you around.”

  Before I had the chance to respond to Archer’s question, Cruz butted in by asking, “And what do you mean by this ‘thing’? Your usual parties and conquests, I take it?”

  Archer rolled his eyes at his brother. “Oh, do cheer up, Cruz. You act as if you’re not merely a few years older than myself. It’s a bloody party, not a funeral.”

  “Why don’t you both take her?” Margery cheerily proposed, lightening the mood after the short-term burst of tension. “I’m sure Serena would love to see what people your age do around here.”

  Yes, please do, I silently encouraged, too giddy at the thought of having alone time with Cruz, even if it was with his brother.

  “The scene wouldn’t be fitting for Cruz,” Archer stated in a mocking tone.

  “And what scene would that be?” his less than pleased brother flung the question at him, seeming more irritated than before.

  “Fun folks. You’re more into uptight, bore fests and air kisses.”

  The irritation that was pasted on his face seconds ago seemed to have disappeared, and in came the cool, collected Cruz. “Just because I’m the responsible one, it doesn’t make me a boring person.”

  “You really need to stop fighting like hounds. Your father would be aghast to see you two bicker like ten-year-olds,” Margery reprimanded them, hoping to put a halt to their nonstop counterarguments.

  Archer shrugged. “Fine. All right. I’ll lessen the jabs.” He cocked his chin towards his brother before giving him a shit-eating grin. “All jests aside, dear brother, I do highly respect you.”

  “Brilliant, then I’m coming along,” Cruz stated, seeming pleased with himself.

  “That settles it, then,” their mother commented, finalizing everything.

  Oh, dear. Two brothers who were competitive against each other: check. One chick who was hyperventilating at the thought of partying with not one but two gorgeous men on her side: check.

  This ought to be an interesting night.

  =_=_=

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  More books by Pamela Ann:

  The Torn Series Order:

  Scornfully Yours

  Scornfully Hers

  Frayed

  Blasphemous

  Undeniably Yours

  Scorned

  Fixated On You

  Christmas With You

  Unveiled

  Crushed TBA

  Damaged TBA

  The Chasing Series:

  Chasing Beautiful

  Chasing Imperfection

  Chasing Paradise

  Chasing Forever (Lucy & Toby)

/>   Chasing Mrs. Knightly: Epilogue

  Lily’s Mistake

  Loving Drake

  Loving Lily

  British Billionaires Series:

  Falling For My Husband (Callum & Stella)

  Falling For Ava (Reiss & Ava)

  Falling For The Enemy (Sebastian & Allie) TBA

  Formula Men Series:

  Monza Luca di Medici February 2015

  Nice Jacques Bertrand TBA

  Barcelona Andrès Franco TBA

  Pieces: A Duet:

  Pieces of You & Me

  Pieces Of Us

  Havoc (Dark Erotica)

  The Encounter Trilogy

  Bartered

  Unleashed

  Vanquished

  For more about Pamela Ann and her upcoming releases, follow her through Facebook, Twitter and her blog.

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