Divided (Elena Ronen, Private Investigator)

by Jennifer Sights

“You can shower and dress at my place. You will have your privacy. I simply wish to enter the club with you on my arm tonight.”

  As he looked at me pleadingly, his crystal clear emerald eyes boring into my soul, I couldn’t refuse. As soon as I said yes, I mentally kicked myself. Why would I do that? Young women should not go to the homes of strange, older men.

  I didn’t like the conflicted thoughts in my head the past few days. I couldn’t explain them. However, I still sensed Vittorio meant me no harm, so I stuck with my decision, for better or worse.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I had driven past, but never stopped in the store on South Grand Avenue filled with the most exquisite Goth club wear imaginable. Unlike many girls, I detested window shopping. What was the point of drooling over something you couldn’t afford?

  Elegant Gothic and Victorian style dresses filled some racks, while others contained leather and PVC clothes. Fishnet and lace were abundant throughout the store, as was silver jewelry. When I looked at a price tag of one dress that read $2000, I turned to leave. “I can’t afford this, Vittorio.”

  “Do not fret, I told you I would buy you a gown.”

  “I can’t accept something like this from you.”

  “I insist.”

  “No, really. I barely know you. I can’t.”

  He almost looked hurt. “Elena, please. My job provides more income than I know what to do with. I do not say that to brag, simply to illustrate the point that if I wish to buy a beautiful woman an expensive gown, there is no reason for her to turn me down.”

  Glancing around the store, I saw several items I would love to own. “You’re not going to give me a choice, are you?”

  “I would never dream of taking choices away from you.”

  I didn’t like it, but grudgingly accepted his offer. What would it hurt to have a really nice gown anyway? “Alright, I’ll let you buy me a dress.”

  “Thank you,” he said, and sounded sincere.

  I didn’t understand what was going on, but filed it in my brain to ponder when I was alone. Why was it so important that I allow him to buy me a dress?

  I looked through racks of dresses, skirts, and corsets, unable to choose just one.

  Vittorio came to my rescue with an item that could only be called a gown, never a mere dress, and asked if I would try it on.

  The gown was surprisingly simple. The top was a black corset connected to a long, flowing skirt with a short train, and made of a fine satin. Royal purple was woven throughout in the form of a shimmering thread. I felt like a princess, and dared not look at the price tag.

  The saleslady brought me shoes with a four-inch heel that matched the purple in the dress, and suggested black lace panties, silk stockings, and a garter belt to match. I wasn’t sure about the matching undergarment set; no one would see it. She insisted they would help me feel sexy, even if no one saw, so I accepted.

  When I changed back into my street clothes, I told Vittorio I loved it. “I’m going to wait outside while you pay. I do not want to know what this costs,” I said firmly.

  After a light dinner, we went to Vittorio’s mansion. It was old, built of stone, and looked like a European fortress. I’d often driven past the mansions lining Forsyth Avenue, wondering what they looked like inside. Any home directly across from Forest Park would be expensive, but I couldn’t imagine what these cost. I expected to find gaudy, ostentatious furniture and decorations inside. A clean, modern decorating style surprised me. The rooms were not sparse, but with fifteen-foot ceilings, seemed open and airy.

  Our footsteps echoed on marble floors as he led me to the guest suite. A few paintings hung on the walls, but not so many that the hall appeared cluttered. One in particular caught my attention. It was a crow in boots walking through a barren field. A dead tree loomed in the background.

  “That’s an interesting painting,” I said.

  “It’s one of my favorites. It is Krahe, by Rudi Hurzlmeier.”

  “It’s sad, but kind of whimsical at the same time.” We admired the painting side by side for a few moments.

  We finally reached the guest suite at the end of the long hallway. It was a large, tastefully decorated bedroom with mahogany furniture. The bedding was midnight blue with traces of silver throughout and looked inviting, even though I wasn’t tired. A free-standing full length mirror stood next to the dresser. The bathroom was the size of the entire first floor of my duplex. A jacuzzi tub that looked as if it could hold four people sat in one corner, a giant shower in another. Makeup, shampoo, lotion - the works - lined up on the double vanity lining one wall

  “Do you make a habit of hosting women at your home?” I asked, hating the jealous tone I heard in my voice.

  “Elena, please do not be upset. I do not. When you agreed to come back with me, I sent my assistant a message asking her to pick these things up for you. You are a rare exception in my life. Bryn must have talked about me, and I will not deny that it is not difficult for me to keep myself, how shall I say, occupied. But now that I have met you, I wish to have no other women in my life - if I would be so lucky as to have you in my life.”

  “Well,” I started, almost stunned into wordlessness. “I don’t usually rush into things, with men or in any other area of my life. I hardly know you. But we’ll see where this leads.”

  “That is all I can ask. Now, I shall leave you to prepare for the evening.” He swept out of the room.

  Is this guy for real? I asked myself for the umpteenth time. I’d heard of love at first sight, but wasn’t it usually silly teenage girls who fell for that sort of nonsense? You can’t love someone, much less know that you want them in your life forever, when you’ve only known them a few short days. Can you?

  Then again, I was having some pretty crazy thoughts myself. Dreams of marriage, being ridiculously attracted to a near stranger, the inability to control my thoughts and keep my head out of the clouds whenever Vittorio was near.

  Whenever he was near. I felt more in control of myself now that he wasn’t in the room with me. Was it magic? I believed in the possibility. Just because there was no proof of magic didn’t mean it wasn’t real. My job had taught me to keep an open mind.

  When I finished showering, I heard a knock at the bathroom door.

  “Miss, would you like help with your hair?” a female voice said.

  I hadn’t planned on doing anything with it. I wasn’t very good at hair styles. “Um, alright.” I opened the door, wearing a robe I found in the bathroom, and a tall, pretty woman of about thirty with honey blonde hair and a flawless complexion came in.

  “I’m Sarah, Vittorio’s assistant.”

  What else did she help him with, I wondered? The thought must have shown on my face.

  “It’s all business between us. Please don’t be jealous.”

  I was usually so good at hiding my thoughts. What was it about Vittorio that left me so open and raw? “I’m sorry. Thank you for offering to help. Whenever I try to do anything fancier than a blow dry, I end up looking like the Bride of Frankenstein.”

  An hour later my hair was beautifully swept up on top of my head, half of it left trailing down my back in thick curls. My makeup was done and I was dressed and ready to go. I felt beautiful. I had to admit the saleslady was right about the matching undergarments. They made me feel incredibly sexy, and knowing I looked good through and through gave me an extra boost of confidence.

  Sarah led me downstairs to a study where Vittorio sat reading an old, leather-bound book. He stood when I entered the room. He was richly dressed in a gothic tuxedo with a hint of shine. A deep purple satin shirt matched the detail in my dress. His long hair flowed freely down his back, and a silver ring with a deep purple stone glinted on his finger.

  I caught my breath, stunned by his beauty. Surely I was in a dream. No real man was this perfect.

  Vittorio seemed equally as stunned by me. He paused and stared at me for a moment, then glided toward me and took both my hands in his. “E
lena, you are stunning. You shall be the envy of everyone at The Chapel tonight.”

  I regained a bit of composure. “What’s the special occasion? Why are we so dressed up?”

  “Nothing special. I am only proud to have you with me.” He kissed the back of my hand. “Shall we go?”

  I nodded. There had to be some reason for all this elegance. I followed Vittorio to his car, eager to learn more.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Entering The Chapel on Vittorio’s arm, I felt like a movie star, but there was no red carpet, and no photographers. Everyone watched as we entered. Stunned by the attention, I didn’t have a chance to feel weak from Vittorio’s closeness. We ascended the stairs to the balcony, and settled onto a love seat while Felicia took our drink order. I opted for a Coke this time.

  “You are gorgeous, mia bellezza,” Vittorio breathed into my ear as he nuzzled my neck.

  I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. His lips lightly touched me, and suddenly it was just the two of us, alone in the world. The warmth of his body close to mine erased awareness of anything else; even the seat on which I sat disappeared. My heart hammered; my breath came fast and shallow. That one touch was better than any sexual encounter I had ever experienced. I didn’t understand it, but that slight amount of contact left my body screaming for more.

  The sound of Vittorio saying my name brought me back to my senses, but I was confused, as if I was coming out of a dream. “What?”

  “Are you alright? Shall I take you home?”

  I shook my head to clear it. “No, I’m alright, just a little dizzy. Must be all the fresh air from today or something. I just need something to drink.” I looked around, and saw that our drinks sat on the table near the love seat. I reached for mine, and took a long drink through the straw.

  “If you feel ill and want to leave, please say so.”

  “Thank you, but no.” Vittorio looked at me, brow furrowed, and I wondered what was going through his mind.

  We talked with some of the other people around us, and I was thankful to not have Vittorio’s full attention. I looked around, wondering if any of the young girls were Courtney or Miriam, hoping to see Elizabeth, but could hardly focus. I don’t know how much time had passed when Samuel appeared next to him. “You seem quite enamored of your new plaything, Vittorio,” he said, gesturing toward me.

  That brought me fully back to my senses.

  “Excuse me?” I stood up, fists clenched at my sides. “I am no one’s plaything. Just who do you think you are?”

  “Surely Vittorio told you we are business partners?” Samuel said, head held high.

  “Surely he did, but that gives you no right to be rude and condescending to me. You don’t know the first thing about me.”

  Vittorio stood. “Samuel, I expect you to apologize to Elena. You have no right to be so rude to her.”

  “Apologize to your latest toy? I don’t think so,” Samuel said.

  “I hope you don’t think I am your plaything,” I said to Vittorio.

  “Of course not. You are every bit my equal, and a strong, independent woman.” He looked at Samuel. “You will apologize.”

  “You think so?” Samuel asked and raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes. I do,” Vittorio said through clenched teeth.

  “Why the hell should I? She is no different any other tramp you traipse through here with.”

  I slapped him. My father’s mistress had called me a tramp every day before I ran away from home for good. I hadn’t stood up to her, but I damn well would stand up to Samuel.

  Everyone turned to see what the sound was. A look between horror and amusement graced Vittorio’s face as a red handprint blossomed on Samuel’s cheek. He stepped between Samuel and me, facing me, his back to Samuel.

  “Elena, please. I think you have made your point.”

  “Obviously I haven’t. I want Samuel to apologize.” Through my anger, I found myself able to stare into his eyes and remain unaffected. I felt hostility in mine. Did he really expect me to stand there and take this?

  Apparently not, for a look of resolve replaced the amusement. He turned toward Samuel. “Samuel, you will apologize to Elena. I told you; she is not just another piece of arm candy. As far as I am concerned, she is the only woman in the world. And she is her own woman. I would never dream of thinking of her as less than an equal to myself. You, on the other hand, may not be such an equal as I once thought.”

  Whatever Samuel saw in his face seemed to frighten him.

  “I’m sorry, Elena,” Samuel said, looking down at the floor.

  “Look at me when you apologize.”

  He looked at me, eyes wide and frightened. “I’m sorry. Please forgive my rudeness.” He pleaded with his eyes.

  I wondered what Vittorio would do to him if I didn’t accept his apology. “Apology accepted.”

  “Elena, would you excuse Samuel and me for a few minutes? I think I need to have a discussion with him.”

  “Sure. I’m going to go talk to Bryn.” I started to walk away before he gently caught my arm. The touch was slight, but the energy was enough to stop me in my tracks. I turned back to him.

  “I am sorry for this.” He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine. I almost fell. I grabbed him for support, and he wrapped his arm around my waist. His strength was all that held me up. My body was fully pressed against him in his grip.

  “This isn’t helping.” I didn’t want him to know what an effect he had on me, but had no choice at that moment. I lay my head against his chest, weak, but that made it even worse. I took deep breaths, feeling as if I was drunk.

  He nodded to Felicia, who rushed over. “Felicia, help Elena downstairs. She’s feeling a bit faint.”

  Felicia wrapped an arm around my waist, and I draped an arm over her shoulders, trying to act as if we were close friends, but knowing the act fooled no one. I hated showing this much vulnerability in front of so many people, especially Samuel, but had no choice unless I wanted to collapse to the ground, which would be even more embarrassing.

  We slowly made our way down the stairs. “Shall I help you into the restroom?” Felicia asked.

  “No, just to the bar, please. Thank you. I must have eaten something bad today. I’m so embarrassed.”

  “It’s okay, don’t be. Vittorio has that affect on people.”

  I looked at her in alarm. What did she mean by that?

  “He is extremely handsome,” she said.

  “Yes, he is, but men, handsome or not, do not affect me like this. I think I’m just coming down with something.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I plopped unceremoniously onto a barstool. “Good lord, girl, what happened to you? You’re white as a ghost,” Bryn shouted over the music.

  “Vittorio happened to me,” I said, surprising myself with my bluntness.

  “Ah,” she said knowingly. “I’ve seen women swoon for him before, but you look like death warmed over. Must have been some make-out session,” she grinned.

  “He barely kissed me.” I lay my head down on the bar, hoping to avoid any sticky spots, but not really caring. A minute later I felt someone brushing my hair off my neck and laying a cool washcloth on it. I looked around to see Bryn behind me. “Thanks.”

  “What’s going on? This isn’t a normal reaction to hormones?” Bryn asked.

  It was easier to talk over the music with her right next to me. “I wish I knew. I should probably just go home and never show my face here again. It might be safer that way.”

  “You won’t do that.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Remember? I’m a woman.” She grinned at me. “Tell me about that dress. You look fabulous!”

  I blushed. “Vittorio bought it for me. I feel like a princess.”

  “You look like one. I’ll say it again; you really did a number on him.” She looked up to the balcony, and I turned to look when I saw the curious expression on her face. Vittorio and Samuel appeared to be having
a heated discussion. “Wonder what they’re arguing about.”

  “Probably me.”

  “Did Samuel put the moves on you? Man, he sure would be stupid to do that in front of Vittorio.”

  “No, he did something even dumber. He insulted me. Called me Vittorio’s plaything. Then I slapped him.”

  “Wow. You’ve got guts. People try to impress him almost as much as Vittorio, sometimes more.” Bryn looked at the growing number of customers at the bar. “I’ve got to get back to work. Looks like you should get back to Vittorio.” She gestured to the balcony, from where he now watched me.

  I wanted to ask her what she meant by people trying to impress Samuel, but didn’t, as she was busy mixing drinks. Was he part of this mysterious coven Ms. Carmen told me about? I really hoped my hormones would shut the hell up soon so I could focus on the case.

  Returning upstairs, I was relieved to find Samuel nowhere in sight, though Vittorio looked angry. He was alone on the love seat, so I sat next to him and rested my hand on his arm, subtly testing my reaction to him. I was pleased to feel only a slight tingle down my spine. “Are you okay?”

  He turned to me and smiled. “I should be the one asking you that. I am fine. Samuel and I often have disagreements.”

  “That looked like more than a disagreement.”

  “Yes, well, I think he understands now what you mean to me. How are you my dear?”

  “A little shaky,” I admitted. I was beyond the point of acting cool and aloof toward him. My episode earlier had destroyed any chance of hiding his effect on me.

  “Interesting,” he murmured.

  “What’s that?”

  Vittorio looked into my eyes for a moment, then leaned in and kissed me gently. I panicked, but as soon as his lips touched mine, I lost all sense of time and space again. When he pulled away, I sank back into the corner of the couch, as far away from him as I could get without standing up, which wasn’t an option on my rubbery legs. I couldn’t take this. “Vittorio, I want an honest answer from you. Why do you affect me this way? Did you drug my drinks?” Had I really been that stupid?