by Joy, Melita
“Hello,” she heard her friend’s voice.
“Seema, it’s me,” she declared.
“Oh my goodness. Give me a moment. I need to find a quiet room and don’t you dare hang up, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for weeks,” she yelled over the noise in the background. It quietened down, and Seema launched, “Okay I can hear you now. What on earth is going on, I want to hear all about it and why wasn’t I invited to the wedding of the century,” she gushed.
Leilani managed a smile; she should have called her friend sooner. As best she could she explained the entire messy situation. “I want to fight for my marriage,” she ended.
“Why?” her friend was always straight to the point.
“I love him,” she admitted.
“Do you love him or the lifestyle,” she questioned.
“I couldn’t care less about the perks Seema. In fact sometimes I wish he was just a regular guy, that we could live an ordinary, uncomplicated life.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute. Not that you are in the slightest a materialistic person but the guy you’ve married he could never be a suburban family man. From what you’ve said you’ve found yourself an alpha male, confident, complex and intelligent and I’ve seen his photos he is hotter than hot,” she giggled.
“Trust you,” she shook her head.
“Well, you have to admit it that it must count just a little towards your willingness to forgive,” Seema was so cheeky. “So what are you going to do woman?” she pushed Leilani.
“Firstly I’m going to stop being a mannequin. I’m going back to Rome to let Renato know that I want to continue our marriage. That I’m willing to fight for it and not just let it slip through my fingers,” her courage was mounting.
“What will you say when he asks you why you love him,” Seema asked inquisitively.
“Oh that’s simple,” Leilani giggled into the phone. “I’ll tell him it’s because he is hotter than hot,” and with that she rang off mischievously.
The emotional fog that had shrouded her finally lifted. She buzzed thinking about what she would say when she came face to face with him. Calming herself, she figured that the best approach would be to not over think things. Leilani didn’t want to meet him with a mentally prepared speech. Straight from the heart would be best and besides, things could be worse. He’d been doing nice things for her ever since she departed; maybe there were some feelings on his side after all. One thing was for certain; she didn’t want a life of regrets.
Leilani called reception and organised a private water boat to take her to the airport and a flight to Rome. With little time to spare she rushed her packing. She could have had it done for her but in this instance the distraction was welcome. Within a few hours, she would be with her husband declaring her love and their suitability, breathing in deeply she continued with her packing.
Renato had touched down in Rome and was waiting to board a private jet to take him to Venice. He flicked his phone on to check his messages. His phone was clogged with missed calls, particularly from his new assistant. He thought of Camilla; it was a shame the woman had tried to interfere in his personal life because her organisational skills were impeccable. His new assistant came to him with years of experience and highly recommended however he found her lacking and would need to consider replacing her.
There were no voicemails from Leilani, not that he had been expecting her to leave a message. The plane was ready to board, and a boat would be waiting for him to arrive. He was more than prepared to open his heart to her; he just hoped he could convince her to accept him.
Leilani finally made it to Rome, was chauffeured to the apartment and now stood at the doorstep ready to go in. Before she got inside she heard the click of a camera shutter, “Is it true that your marriage with Renato Favalli has already ended?” came the intrusive demand.
She quickly opened the door and slammed it shut behind her. Leilani had avoided the press the entire time she was in Venice, they mustn’t have realised her whereabouts. They were confronting, but Leilani wasn’t going to let it bother her. She walked through their apartment in search of Renato. He wasn’t home. She would wait. He would return sooner or later. Renato usually returned every few days to Rome for business so she doubted the wait would be long.
By mid-afternoon, she decided to turn on her tablet and study her Italian. She knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate, but it would help to while away the time. As she turned the device on she noticed an article in her news application. Her eyes riveted, she enlarged the image of a boat collision in Venice. At least one driver had died on impact, and the other driver and his passenger were in critical condition. Leilani watched a small clip that a tourist had filmed. It was the boat just moments before impact and the resulting wreckage. Her heart skipped a beat; the vessel looked the same as the one she had utilised during her stay.
Not that it was altogether unique, but she certainly counted her blessings that it hadn’t been her while offering a small prayer to the survivors. She couldn’t imagine how they would hold onto their lives after being involved in such a savage accident. Leilani slid her fingertip across the screen and returned to her homepage opening up her online lesson.
Camilla ended the call with her on and off again lover. He just happened to be an employee on Renato’s security team. She smiled to herself; she had just been handed the perfect opportunity to get rid of Renato’s pathetic wife. Fabrizio had been an excellent source of information letting her know the moment Leilani had given up on the marriage and taken off for Venice. He was also easy on the eye so sleeping with him didn’t trouble her one bit and was well worth the payoff.
The new secretary was not anywhere near as competent as she’d been. She knew this for certain because the woman happened to be a close friend of hers. Together they’d put together a glowing resume, and Camilla had forged some letters of recommendation to ensure her friend got the job. If it wasn’t for Leilani, Camilla felt sure that Renato would hire her back in an instant. She needed to get Leilani out of the country and back to Australia.
Camilla didn’t want Renato to have a seed of doubt about his marriage. She needed him to know for certain that it was over. Time was limited; Camilla needed to be the first to speak to Leilani. She picked up the phone ready to annihilate.
“Hello,” Leilani answered the house phone that hardly ever rang. Renato had told her that very few had this number. She hoped it was him calling now.
“Oh, it’s you. I didn’t expect you to be there,” Camilla was on the other end of the phone, and she sounded uncertain.
Leilani wasn’t going to give this home wrecking woman a chance, “Well it is me and your calls here are not welcomed,” she asserted. Camilla let out a sob, and Leilani wondered what game the woman was playing now. “What do you want? You have no business with the Favalli’s,” she reminded her.
“I know this must be a distressing time for you,” Camilla’s voice held no sincerity. “Renato rehired me. Not that it means anything now,” the woman was crying.
“What on earth are you talking about,” curiosity got the better of Leilani.
“Renato,” Camilla paused dramatically before shrieking, “He’s dead.”
Leilani stood rooted to the spot. It couldn’t be true. “You are lying,” she yelled into the phone.
“What sort of woman do you think I am to lie about such a thing,” she defended vehemently. “Renato died today in a boating accident in Venice. He was on his way to demand a divorce from you,” her voice turned ugly.
“A divorce, it’s not true,” Leilani lost her confidence. “Dead, I just can’t believe it,” her voice petered off.
“If you still don’t believe your husband is dead then turn on the news. It’s playing on every channel.”
Leilani turned on the television and reports of the death of business mogul Renato Favalli appeared on the screen. The news feed at the bottom of the screen was scrolling. Renato Favalli and two others
died in a horrific boat crash in Venice today, and it stated that Renato had been on his way to initiate a divorce from his new wife. Feeling ill she turned it off immediately. “It’s true then,” she whispered.
“Yes it’s true and if he weren't heading out to tell you personally about the divorce, then it never would have happened. You are the cause of his death,” she accused viciously.
Leilani shocked said nothing. Without defending herself, she let the barrage of Camilla’s cruel words wash over her and hung up the phone. Moments later there was a knock on the door. The caller stated his name was Fabrizio and that he was one of Renato’s security men. She vaguely remembered the man but more so recognized the name, thinking at the time of their introduction that it sounded like a race car driver’s name.
“Yes, I remember you,” she was still in a daze.
“Mrs Favalli I’m sorry for your loss,” he stated formally. “As part of your security I wanted to let you know that it’s not safe for you here at the moment,” he was sombre.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“The news of your husband’s death has been made public. Your property is going to be swarming with the press and potentially worse. There were a lot of women that idolized him,” he mentioned looking a bit uncomfortable.
Still feeling upset and confused Leilani pressed him, “Just spit it out. What danger am I in exactly?” the pressure and emotion were starting to surface.
“I think you should leave the apartment immediately. It’s my job to ensure your safety, and I believe that the household staff in Pontelandolfo have already received a couple of threats directed at you. You husband is dead, and the marriage was over. Is there any reason for you to stay here?” He asked directly. “I’m sorry to have to be so blunt. However, we don’t have a lot of time,” he urged her.
Leilani didn’t know what to do. So she took the caution of this man who seemed to be looking out for welfare. “No, I have no need to be in this house,” she agreed.
Quickly she grabbed a bag only filling it with essentials, and he whisked her out to his car. In less than half an hour, they were at the airport. She hadn’t even thought to ask where she was going. He took her as far as he was able to in the airport, and she was instructed to go and wait in the private lounge area where she could wait in peace until her flight.
She found a quiet corner and faced the window of the airfield avoiding any unwanted attention. With a moment of solitude, the tears began to fall earnestly down her cheeks. She’d been too late. Leilani’s mind flashed with good memories she had of him. Their day of sight-seeing, the conversations getting to know one another and, of course, their lovemaking. She would never feel his body pressed up against hers again. Never know the touch of his mouth exploring hers and would never feel that sense of belonging. She felt safe and at home in the circle of his arms.
Leilani pulled a tissue from her bag and tried to tame the tears coursing down her face. Her flight was being announced. She sat still, breathing slowly to calm herself down and with her head held high made her way to the boarding gate where thankfully she would embark quickly in the priority queue.
Vittorio watched the story unfolding on the news. Without a sign of emotion, he picked up his phone and dialled. “Find me out the truth of this story on Renato,” he demanded with his full authority rising. If Vittorio was sure of one thing, it was to check the facts. Over the years, he’d been reported dead several times, and while there were many who would love this to be true, he’d survived all of these so-called endings.
Not entertaining the thought, Vittorio would be damned if his only heir were going to die. He’d invested far too many years into him. The phone rang, and he picked it up, “Well,” he barked. Putting the phone down, Vittorio hit the table solidly with his fist and cried out in anguish. Within minutes, he organised the jet to be ready and his driver to take him to the airport.
Vittorio dialled Leilani’s number; he wanted to be the one to tell her of the news. Hopefully, she wasn’t already watching it; the shock after everything else she’d been through would be too much for her. From his impression of her he knew she wouldn’t cope. He still didn’t understand why she’d needed to run and hide all the way up in Venice in the first place.
Renato had assured him that it was for the best and that he would sort it all out shortly. Having full confidence in Renato he left it in his hands. Having the boy married was still good for the company whereas a divorce was out of the question particularly so soon. Renato’s credibility would have been shot to pieces had they dissolved their marriage in less than three months. The scandal would have wiped out the deal that they’d been working on damaging over a year’s worth of negotiations, unthinkable.
With the situation as it was he would have to head the company once again for an interim period. There would be those that would think him past it, but he was still as sharp as a tack even if his body was slowly failing him. Boarding the jet he waited for take-off and continued to formulate a plan for the coming weeks.
Leilani left the privacy of the lounge area and headed for her boarding gate. People queued up waiting to board. She looked at the entry point for first class; there was no line up at all. With her head held high, she walked towards the gate and continued to walk past it. Her husband was dead, and she didn’t care what threats were out there. She loved him, and she would stay to see him buried. Leilani walked into a clothing store in the airport and bought a pair of sunnies, a cap and a loose fitting dress. Finding a public restroom she changed her outfit and tied her hair up in a ponytail that she let escape out of the base of the cap.
Feeling confident that she had disguised herself adequately she found a service desk and organised tickets to Venice. She just hoped that they had taken him to a hospital on the island; as his wife they wouldn’t be able to refuse her, and she wanted to say a proper goodbye to him. She wanted to see him one last time.
Getting off the plane Leilani called Vittorio but his phone was switched off. She decided to head straight for the Mestre Hospital, with any luck the press would be hanging around and give her the best clue to his whereabouts. She got out of the taxi and indeed spotted a media frenzy. Leilani thanked her foresight to change her outfit. Knowing that she didn’t look like anything special, she walked in and found the emergency department.
Quietly she passed over her identification with her Favalli name and asked if she could be taken through to see her husband. The woman looked surprised, and Leilani lifted her glasses up onto her head to show who she was. She followed the nurse to the critical care unit, they’d obviously not had time to take him to the morgue. Leilani wasn’t sure what to expect and asked for time to calm her nerves.
The nurse took pity on her, her English quite poor, she managed to articulate that it would be okay while giving Leilani’s arm a gentle squeeze. Taking a breath of courage she walked through the doors and into a private room. Renato was lying still, hooked up to a drip and other machines. His eyes were shut, his face bruised and bloodied, and the rest of his body hidden under the hospital sheet.
She walked over to the bed and dropped her head to his chest and cried a flood of tears pouring out, all her self-control gone she let her sorrow and grief take over. She felt anguished that her torment would never be over. Meeting Renato had been a glimmer of hope. Someone to love and the possibility of belonging. She couldn’t comprehend that the chance of happiness had been ripped from her. Surely, she deserved some joy in her life. With Renato she knew she could have had it.
CHAPTER NIneteen
She felt a hand reach out and touch her just a moment before she heard his voice, “Leilani.”
Her ears thundered, and a rush enveloped her body and from a distance she heard an ear-piercing scream before falling into darkness.
Leilani clawed her way back to sanity and heard the sound of Vittorio’s voice calling her to consciousness. “Are you alright,” he asked her with genuine concern.
She tried
to sit up, but he held her still. “I,” he cut her off as she started to assemble the fragments of her mind.
“You’ve had a shock. Now stay still until the doctor comes in to check you,” she was still lying on the floor. “Leilani you hit your head on the way down so it’s best not to move until we can be sure there is no damage,” he urged her gently to stay where she was.
“Renato,” she whispered. She had felt his hand and heard his voice; she prayed it wasn’t just her imagination.
The doctor came in checked her movements and looked for signs of a concussion. She was moved onto a stretcher and taken out of the room. They wanted to do a scan as a further precaution.
Vittorio squeezed her hand, “You will be okay and when you come back from your scan you can see Renato,” he promised and before she had to ask, “He is alive and well. So don’t worry any further,” he demanded gruffly before the orderlies took her out of the room.
“How are you son?” Vittorio asked Renato.
“I’ll be better when I know Leilani is okay. I heard her head bang on the floor, and there was nothing I could do from here,” he clenched his fists, frustrated that he had not been able to prevent her fall.
“Do not worry. If they find a problem we’ll have the best surgeons flown in,” he reassured.
“It was as though she thought I was dead,” Renato had been taken aback by her reaction.
“That’s because she no doubt thought you were. The news has been buzzing all afternoon with stories of your horrific accident and your death,” Vittorio clarified. “I was surprised that she came here though,” he admitted.
“Why would you be surprised?” Renato asked.
“Because someone has leaked a story to the press that you were on your way to Venice to offer your wife a divorce,” he clarified.
