Angelo: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

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Angelo: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Page 8

by Bella Love-Wins


  “Wow! Look at you. Those heels and that skirt. Hot as fuck!”

  I grinned. “I guess you’re rubbing off on me.”

  “It’s about time.”

  “And I haven’t fallen all week.”

  “Wow, look at you. You make a momma proud.”

  Leaving her bags where they were, she headed for the kitchen. “I’m starving. That flight kicked my butt and the food on it was awful.”

  I plunked down on the couch. The driver that picked me up from work had already left, since I told him I didn’t know how long I would be. I planned on taking a cab back to Angelo’s. Since he wouldn’t be home till some undetermined hour later in the night there was time to kill.

  I needed to talk to my sister. I just had to figure out how to get the words out.

  “Ew!” Sophia squealed.

  My head swiveled towards the kitchen doorway. “What?”

  “This milk is spoiled! Have you not gotten any more?”

  “Um...”

  She came to the doorway. “Or have you just been drinking bad milk and not even noticed?”

  I took in a deep breath. “I haven’t been here, actually.”

  Sophia’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you haven’t been here?”

  “I’ve been staying at Angelo’s.”

  Her eyes went from tiny slits to dinner plates at the speed of light.

  I hurried on to explain. “After I left here that day something happened. I had an asthma attack, a really bad one. I passed out. I went to the hospital and even though I was technically okay, Angelo wanted me to stay with him so he could keep an eye on me.”

  “For three weeks?”

  “Did you not hear the part about me passing out?”

  Her face softened a bit. “Yes, I did… But why the hell were you with Angelo that long? Paige, I told you to stay away from him.”

  I stood, starting to feel a little heated myself. “This isn’t even the important part, Soph.”

  Her arms crossed. “Really? Because it sounds super important. You’re really stirring the pot here.”

  “I found something out. In Atlantic Beach.”

  “Atlantic Beach? When were you there?”

  “It’s where Angelo and I went for a couple days right after we left the apartment. Look.” I reached into my purse and retrieved my cell phone then hurried over to her.

  She remained stoic, her arms folded and her eyes shooting daggers at me.

  I scrolled through the picture gallery, passing photos of Angelo in Central Park, till I got to the one I looked for.

  “I saw this on the mantel at the Salvatore’s place. Mom and Dad were friends with Angelo’s parents.”

  Sophia stared at the phone I held. For a moment, nothing in her face changed, but then it grew red.

  “I mean, I guess I should have guessed that,” I went on, “Since you and I knew their kids.”

  Sophia still didn’t say anything.

  “Soph?”

  “I can’t believe you stayed with him this long,” she spat through a tightly clenched jaw.

  I stared back at her. I’d seen my sister angry before, but something about the emotion seeping out of her said she was at a new level of rage.

  “That’s not important! What’s important is this man.” I jabbed a finger at the young man standing near the edge of the frame.

  “You know who he is?” she asked.

  “Well...” I licked my lips, scared to death to repeat the story I knew I needed to.

  She went on. “That’s Alfredo Moretti. Your future husband.”

  My breath caught in my throat.

  Was I having an asthma attack?

  Or flat out dying?

  “Mor… Moretti?” I stammered.

  “Yes,” she tersely replied.

  I took a step backwards, then a few more, not knowing where I was headed. My calves bumped into the back of the couch and I reached out to it for support.

  “Angelo didn’t tell you this?”

  I didn’t want to answer.

  “Paige?”

  “He told me the man was a family friend.”

  Sophia snorted. “He was telling the truth about that much.”

  “Why would he not tell me?” I blubbered, more asking myself than Sophia.

  “Because he’s just trying to get what he can while he can get it.”

  “No. He’s helping me. He’s working on finding a way to get me out of it.”

  “He’s not,” Sophia sadly said. “Angelo knows the rules of the game. He knows this marriage has to be honored. There’s no backing out of it.”

  “That’s not true. He promised me that...”

  Sophia waved her hands frantically around. “Then he was lying! He’s just trying to get what he wants, Paige, while he can get it. That’s the kind of guy Angelo is. He’ll keep you around for fun until the day he has to turn you over. Do you see that now?”

  I hated it, and I didn’t want to believe it, but yes. I did see things for what they really were.

  Angelo could have just as easily told me the man in the picture was Moretti. And yet he hadn’t. Because he didn’t care.

  “He’s not as innocent as he seems,” Sophia fiercely said. Then, in a softer voice, “I’m sorry.”

  I nodded, unable to speak. Unable to do anything but stare at the floor.

  And then something else hit. The bigger issue I’d been ignoring.

  “He was there,” I gargled, finally looking at her. “Moretti. He was there.”

  “There where?”

  “The day Mom and Dad died. I saw him there.”

  Sophia paled. “What are you talking about? I thought you didn’t remember anything about that day.”

  “I thought I didn’t either...” My eyes filled with angry tears. “But it came back when I saw this photo. That’s why I had the asthma attack. I remembered it… I remembered it all.”

  “Oh my God!” Sophia exclaimed. “You’re sure? You’re sure that guy,” she gestured at the phone in my hand, “was there?”

  “I’m positive.”

  “But why? Do you know why?”

  Sophia’s hands curled into fists. “Does it matter? He had something to do with our parents’ murder. That’s all that’s important.”

  “Do you think he had it done? Like, he ordered it?”

  Her chin trembled. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  She marched past me.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To fix things. Don’t worry.” She grabbed her suitcases and looked back at me. “I’ll be back soon.”

  I straightened up. “Soph! You can’t just leave.”

  Her eyes glimmered with tears. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. I promise.”

  Without another look at me, she hurried from the apartment.

  I stared at the closed door, my knees trembling and my stomach heaving.

  I didn’t know which to process first, Moretti’s involvement in my parents’ deaths or Angelo’s betrayal.

  Holding onto the top of the couch, I made it to the front and then fell down onto the cushions.

  “Oh my God,” I croaked, a dry sob escaping my chest.

  Not knowing what to do or where to go, I sat there, frozen solid while the dark grew and pressed in around me.

  Chapter Thirteen - Angelo

  “Paige?”

  I looked into the kitchen, then into the dining room. No Paige.

  Not in the living room.

  Not in her bedroom.

  Fear crept into my heart, making it speed up. What if something had happened to her?

  I checked my phone to see if she replied to the text I sent when I landed.

  There were no new messages. Something was off.

  Hitting her name, I called her cell, then held my breath as it rang.

  “Damn it,” I muttered when she didn’t answer.

  A list of possible disaster scenarios rapidly formed in my mind. Her reme
mbering another traumatic event from the past and suffering a mental breakdown. Her getting hit by a bus on her way out of the office building. Moretti discovering what had been happening between us, getting pissed, and stepping in to take her early.

  The last one seemed the least likely, actually. Moretti was subject to codes just like the rest of us. He wouldn’t break a previous pact. Technically, Paige wasn’t yet twenty-five, so she wasn’t yet his.

  On my way out the door, I called her office to check if she’d left it at the regular time. The receptionist informed me Paige had, indeed, left at five thirty.

  I gritted my teeth and pressed my fist against my lips. I peeked out into traffic, looking for the car I’d just called for.

  I was not about to stay calm over this.

  Being as wound up as I was for the ride to Paige’s place, I had the driver wait for me out on the sidewalk instead of finding a parking spot. I was at the buzzer in no time, pressing it under my thumb.

  “Come on,” I muttered impatiently.

  “Hello?” came Paige’s voice over the crackling line.

  “Paige!”

  She didn’t answer, so I pressed the button to speak again. “Are you all right? I was worried.”

  Another long silence. I began to wonder if the device was broken, but then she spoke. “Come on up.”

  I was relieved to find her physically all right, but the tension still wouldn’t leave my shoulders. They bunched together as I opened the door and headed up the stairs. I could tell from Paige’s voice. Something had happened.

  Her apartment door opened right after I knocked.

  But only a crack.

  The chain stayed secured, Paige’s face peeking out just below it.

  I waited for her to undo the chain upon seeing it was me, but she didn’t.

  “I don’t want to see you again.”

  It took a few seconds to process her words. “Hold on. What?”

  “I think you heard me,” she fiercely said. “I don’t want to see you again. Ever. I’m done with you.”

  I sputtered something incoherent before unscrambling my brain and getting ahold of actual words.

  “Where is, this coming from? What’s going on? What happened?” I fired each new question at her on top of the last, not waiting for responses.

  Her eyes flashed with anger. “Don’t play innocent with me.”

  I guffawed. “Paige, I honestly have no clue what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re just keeping me around while you can. Just for entertainment. Or maybe you’re making sure I don’t bolt. Admit it. When I turn twenty-five, you’ll hand me over to Moretti.”

  “Are you serious?”

  She said nothing.

  “Paige, just let me in and we can talk about this.”

  “There’s nothing left to talk about. You’ve had your fun with me so now you can just leave.”

  Anger pierced my heart. “Wow. That’s a really awful thing to say, especially after we’ve just spent three weeks together. You know me better than that.”

  She blinked fast. Was she trying to push back tears? “I thought I knew you too, but it turns out I don’t. You knew that man in the photo is Moretti, didn’t you?”

  “I...” I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. “God,” I muttered.

  “You can’t even deny it.”

  “No, I can’t deny it,” I snapped, louder than I needed to.

  A door creaked and I glanced over my right shoulder. A short, older woman came out of her apartment, tote bags in her hands. Her eyes darted in our direction before quickly averting. She turned and went down the hall.

  I waited until the woman disappeared to speak again, this time in a lower voice.

  “I didn’t want to hurt you. That’s why I didn’t tell you the man was Moretti. It was a lot of information to handle at once. You’d just woken up and remembered that day.”

  “I don’t think that’s it. I think you didn’t want me to get too close to the truth.”

  “What? What truth are you talking about?”

  “You probably knew all along that Moretti had a hand in killing my parents.”

  I stared at her, my jaw coming unhinged. Did she really think I was such a bastard? I’d spent the last three weeks opening up to Paige. I let her into my life in a way I never had before with anyone. I hadn’t even meant to. I couldn’t let her go without trying to get her to hear me out. She was just hurt. Confused.

  “I only knew once you told me he was there,” I said. “If I’d known before, during a better time, I would have told you.”

  She ran her palm across her eyes. “So tell me this, Angelo. When was the next good time coming? Huh? Were you planning to tell me the day of my twenty-fifth birthday, right before I met Moretti? Or were you just not going to tell me at all?”

  “You’re not going to Moretti. I’m working on it.”

  “It sounds like you weren’t planning to tell me at all.”

  “I...”

  She shook her head fiercely, her face disappearing from the crack in the doorway.

  I pressed my palm against the hallway wall, working to keep my composure. Though Paige was hurt, her accusations were starting to seriously piss me off.

  I was putting my neck out for her, doing everything I could to help. I didn’t deserve to be accused of atrocities.

  “I was going to tell you. I don’t know when, but of course I was. Can you let me in so we can talk?”

  “No. I don’t want to anywhere near me.”

  “Fine,” I shouted. “Maybe you’re open your eyes before it’s too late, and see how unreasonable you’re being. I’m here trying to help, and you’re turning me away.”

  I waited for her to slam the door in my face, but her eyes brimmed over with tears.

  “There’s more I don’t get,” she said. “What does your family have to do with it?” she asked. “Where did they stand? They had to have either taken a side or played a role in all this. Were they with my parents or this Moretti guy?”

  I straightened up, dropping my hand from the wall. “It’s more complicated than that.”

  “Your family could have been involved in my parents’ murders.”

  “They weren’t.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because they’re my parents, and I know them.”

  “Am I supposed for feel comforted by that? You lied to me! Why should I trust anything you say?”

  I didn’t get another word in. Paige slammed the door.

  I wanted to break that door down and make Paige listen. Or drag her in my arms to remind her I was on her side. But there was nothing left to say right now. Not now when every instinct told me to get inside by force and make her listen. I needed to get my anger in check, so I left.

  “Take me home,” I told the driver as I climbed into the waiting car’s backseat.

  The sparkling, multi-colored lights of a city alive after dark spun by the window. I’d spent most of my adult life in New York, and many childhood summers in Atlantic Beach. I had walked in and out of many women’s lives. Paige was the first time I wanted to stay put.

  I wasn’t going to let her go this easily.

  Still, even if I could get this marriage to Moretti called off, I’d still have to deal with the fact that I lied and betrayed whatever trust she had in me.

  My phone rang. Hoping it was Paige, I yanked the phone from my coat pocket. Nope. Dominic’s name lighted up the screen.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Pops agreed to meet with us. Tomorrow.”

  “Great.”

  He paused. “You don’t sound too excited.”

  “I am,” I said. Dominic didn’t need to know what was going on with Paige. I was more interested in why he thought Moretti might have been party to Paige’s parents getting murdered, but Dominic wouldn’t answer that question even if he knew the answer.

  “Have you heard from Sophia?” I asked instead.
/>
  “Yes. She just flew in from a job.”

  “Oh.”

  Paige had seen her? Did this have anything to do with Paige’s unexpected turn on me? The only person I could think would clue Paige in to Moretti was her sister.

  I pursed my lips. I couldn’t blame Sophia. She was only trying to take care of Paige.

  Just like I was.

  “I’ll text you the time as soon as I know,” Dominic said.

  “Okay. Thanks again.”

  “Let’s hope this works out.”

  He hung up, leaving my ears buzzing.

  Chapter Fourteen - Angelo

  I considered phoning her for the entire drive to Atlantic Beach the next morning. I even picked up the phone and let my thumb hover over her name a few times. There was no point. Not enough time had passed. Paige couldn’t have gone to bed hating my guts and woken up realizing she had it all wrong.

  I didn’t blame her. All the apologies in the world couldn’t prove to her I wasn’t an asshole. Only one thing could prove what I thought about her. I had to get her out of this arranged marriage bullshit. Even if she didn’t let me off the hook.

  Taking the familiar route through the neighborhood caused a jab of pain in my chest. The weekend I spent here with Paige was better than just a good time. There may have been some confusing and painful developments, but it felt real.

  This chat with Pops had to work.

  Getting Dominic on board would help. He was level-headed, not quick to make decisions. Pops trusted him.

  The driver got me to the house quickly. I hurried up the driveway, keeping my eyes in front of me. The prize. The end result. Releasing Paige.

  Even if getting her out of this meant losing her too.

  “Hello?” I yelled into the front hallway. “Pops?”

  “In here,” came Dom’s answer.

  I followed his voice to the living room.

  Pops sat in one of the leather armchairs, one leg folded over the other. His casual demeanor contrasted with Dom’s, who paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, hands clasped behind his back.

  I averted my eyes from the photograph that started the rift between me and Paige. The one that brought back her memories.

  “Angelo,” Pops greeted me. “How was the drive?”

 

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