Chapter Twenty-Two
London
The shoot for the Elle fashion spread which featured winning designs from a fashion reality show wrapped up after ten grueling hours. ‘Sex kitten’ was the theme of the entire collection and the set creatively emulated a turn-of the-century boudoir from a warehouse. It had taken forever to give justice to the strong, bold pieces she was asked to wear but Jordana had already worked with the photographer before, so she knew how extremely fussy he can be and how he strived for perfection in every shot. Thankfully, the winning designer was a joy to work with and was easier to please than the magazine editor and the photographer at the helm.
Jordana flexed her aching muscles after the last proof got the nod of the fashion editor. She was pleased that she can finally go home to her lovely Gianna, whom she left with her nanny, Lianne, at the apartment she bought just a couple of months ago.
She always brought along Gianna and Lianne on her overseas gigs. If she was doing a shoot in the States, she would still tag the two of them so she can be with her daughter during breaks or while waiting for the equipment to be set up.
She didn’t bring Gianna over today because her little darling was teething and woke up cranky and with a slight fever. She’d asked Lianne to bring Gianna to her pedia for a check up.
As she walked back to where her car was parked, she couldn’t help but smile whenever she thought about her daughter. Gianna could easily charm the socks off of people with her engaging, toothy smile.
She wouldn’t be surprised if Gianna would follow in her shoes one day. In fact, she was already approached by several agents who tried to persuade her to get Gianna for screen tests. But she declined, despite promises of lucrative baby product contracts. She didn’t want to subject her baby to any more media attention. She was extremely protective where Gianna was concerned.
As she drove her Mini Cooper to Knightsbridge, where her apartment was located, several things also came to mind. Despite the fact that her daughter took after her, Jordana would still see glimpses of her father in her. At eight months, Gianna was determined and stubborn…traits she definitely got from Lonzo.
Traits she would stamp out of her child early on, she thought as she parked the car in front of her apartment. As she was getting her bag from the trunk, she noticed from the street that the door of her home was ajar.
That was strange...
Lianne would never forget to lock the door.
Her heart began to race. Something was amiss. She shoved her bag back to the trunk and ran toward the door.
She pushed the door to open but something was blocking it. She exerted more force to push it open. She found Lianne lying facedown in a pool of her own blood. She had three bullet holes on her back.
Cold terror washed over her as her body began to tremble.
“Gianna!” she screamed in absolute dread.
She sprinted toward her daughter’s room, her heart lodged inside her throat.
Her hand began to shake as she reached for the doorknob of Gianna’s room.
Please, please…let Gianna be okay, she feverishly prayed.
It was empty.
Someone took her daughter!
It was a scene straight out of a nightmare. A mother’s worst nightmare.
She heard a blood curdling wail.
She realized it was her own voice.
Lonzo was chairing an executive committee meeting at his London office when Patrizia entered the room without being summoned, interrupting him in the middle of reprimanding one of his senior executives over the delays of a wind tech project.
He glanced at his assistant sharply, irked at the disruption.
“What is it this time?” he demanded sharply.
His usually cool secretary looked a bit flustered. “It’s your uncle, Signore Vitale. He wants to speak to you. Now.”
Fuck, what did his uncle want this time? Rubbing salt was becoming the old man’s favorite past time of late. Sheesh.
He knew this call would be about Jordana. God, he knew she was in London at the moment and it took all his willpower not to contact her and ask her how she was and their daughter. If only she could find it in her heart to forgive him…
“Tell him to leave a message,” he said before facing his executives again. He would think of her later. For now, he had a conglomerate to run and he owed it to his shareholders to be on top of his game.
Patrizia cleared her throat. “I’m afraid, Signore Vitale…you really have to take this call.”
“Are you telling me or asking me?” he snapped.
“I’m telling you, sir. It’s an emergency. He said it’s about your daughter, Gianna. He had received information she’s been k-kidnapped.”
He didn’t reply. He couldn’t. He felt like the wind was knocked out of him.
Chills ran down his spine. It was as if his blood had turned into ice.
He bolted out of the conference room, leaving his business executives gaping after him.
He took the call from his office. “Thio—” he could barely speak because of fear. Fear for his child.
Then a new fear dawned.
“Jordana? Is Jordana with her?!”
“Lonzo…Jordana was working when it happened. She’s in shock. You have to go to her…she needs you!”
“Had the kidnappers made contact?” he asked next, his voice shaking.
“Mel told me that the police have already been notified. The nanny was killed.”
He closed his eyes. The thought that it could’ve been Jordana…
The thought made him weak.
He needed to be at her side. He couldn’t face this alone and neither could she.
They had to face this traumatic event together.
It had been five hours since the nightmare started.
She was no longer alone inside her house. Her place was swarming with police.
The crime lab people came to process the scene and transferred Lianne’s body to the coroner’s office for an autopsy. The lead detective, several officers and a doctor stood at one corner of her drawing room, talking in low voices.
Jordana sat alone on the sofa, her back straight and very still.
Outwardly, she looked calm…almost too composed as she stared at the fireplace, seemingly unmindful of the people around her. In reality, calm was the farthest thing from what she was feeling. Every hushed word, every movement inside the room echoed inside her head.
She was afraid to move, lest she’d be seized again by another panic attack.
She was hysterical when the cops arrived earlier. They had to get a doctor just to calm her down. The doctor tried to give her a sedative but she refused. She couldn’t bear to sleep, even if drug-induced, knowing her baby was missing. So she pretended to be in full control of her faculties. After they got her statement, she sat in vigil, praying that her daughter be spared from harm.
The police informed that the kidnappers had yet to call in and ask for a ransom. She was also told that her immediate family were already informed.
She nodded in acknowledgment, not trusting herself to utter a word. She wished Leandro was here with her. She felt so paralyzed.
“He’s on his way, miss,” the inspector told her, as though the information had the power to comfort her.
Nothing, absolutely nothing can make her feel better until she had her child back.
The cop left her. Everyone was waiting for a development. She knew that the first twelve hours were crucial, and all this waiting was killing and driving her insane.
She heard the screech of car wheels outside her apartment. Everyone stood in attention. She thought Leandro had arrived.
Until she overheard conversation coming from outside. Her hackles instantly went up as she isolated one particular voice: a deep, authoritative one.
It belonged to a person she didn’t want here. Her ears picked up sounds of footsteps before her front door shot open. Heads turned to look at the man who just came in. Everyone responded to his presence like lapdogs, she thought.
Everyone, except her. She knew without turning who it was.
Her body reacted when she heard his footsteps heading her way.
She straightened her back in anger as she focused her eyes on the fireplace.
He stopped in front of her, blocking her view.
“Jordana,” he addressed.
She didn’t respond. She transferred her gaze from the fireplace to the pair of authentic Italian leather shoes that he wore.
“Look at me.” There was a hint of command, but his tone had been gentle.
Her eyes slowly moved.
From his expensive shoes, her gaze went up and took in the the dark blue wool pants that encased his long, powerful thighs; her eyes proceeded to the white silk shirt he wore which failed to hide the solid muscles of his torso.
Her eyes continued its journey to his neck and his rigid chin before it settled on his sensuous mouth. Her own lips thinned in anger when she remembered what that mouth was capable of.
Next, she took in his straight, masculine nose that betrayed his Roman ancestry.
She frowned.
His cheeks were leaner than she remembered.
When her gaze finally reached his eyes, her amber ones clashed with his intensely green pair.
She had sworn to herself never to let him get this close again.
She hadn’t seen him for almost a year.
Except for his leaner profile, he hadn’t changed. In fact, the leanness gave him a wolfish, sexier look. She couldn’t help herself from thinking that this man had everything in abundance: both in looks and money.
He evoked love in her once. But that was before she hardened her heart and taught herself to hate him.
What he did to Gianna was unforgivable.
The gall of this man to appear at her house and speak to her as though he had a right to do so!
She lowered her lashes, dismissing his presence.
“Get out,” she said in a low, soft voice.
She knew he heard her. But he wouldn't leave her alone.
Instead, he went on his knees in front of her and held her shoulders.
“Don’t push me away, cara. She’s my daughter, too.”
His voice was hoarse.
Her face contorted with emotion at what he said.
“Don’t call her that!” she yelled as her control broke and gave way to hysteria.“You didn't want her, you bastard!”
Her body trembled as her breathing grew ragged.
She was experiencing a second panic attack, she thought, before everything went black.
Lonzo cursed himself again for upsetting her.
The doctor had just finished examining her. He took her to her room upstairs when she went off like that and frightened the living daylights out of him.
What was he thinking? Seeing him must've been too much for her.
She had just been through a traumatic experience.
“Her blood pressure’s back to normal, Mr. Vitale. She probably experienced delayed shock which triggered her panic attack. I didn’t give her anything. Just give her enough time to sleep it off,” the doctor said before he bid him goodnight and left the room.
He didn’t go out. He couldn’t bear to leave her side. Not when she was within his reach after missing her for so long.
He just stared down at her sleeping form until his phone went off.
It was Titus Blackwell. He instructed his security guys to use every available means to recover his daughter safely.
“Did you get anything?”
“I’m afraid I have some bad news, boss…”
He swallowed his apprehension. “Shoot. What did you found out? Who took her?”
“My sources say she’s been kidnapped by a gang composed of Sicilians, Slavs and Albanian criminals who had a history of child abduction. This group was led by Luciano Camorra, a former lieutenant of Sicilian mob boss Provenzano. I also found out that less than a month ago, there was a job placed for the kidnap of your daughter and this particular group took the contract.”
“Sonofabitch!” he expelled.
“These criminals are vicious, Mr. Vitale. They are known to kill their victims if they knew cops are involved.”
This last piece of information unnerved Lonzo. “Then we will keep police involvement to a minimum. I want your best people on retainer to extract my daughter back.”
“Already did that boss…they’re just waiting for the signal from me.”
“Any leads on their whereabouts?”
“I’m working on a tip. I asked one of my retainers to bug Ms. Jordana’s phone so we can also do a trace.”
“They haven’t called in for the ransom yet,” Lonzo said, his voice stressed.
“That’s their usual modus operandi. But they will be calling any time soon. Will keep you posted if we find anything, boss.”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose after he ended the call. Once again, his eyes sought Jordana. She looked so frail and pale. Even in sleep, she looked strained.
He went back to the living room to have a word with the inspector. He wanted to know if the police already had a lead on Gianna’s kidnappers. The police chief said they were still following leads and had no idea of the group that Blackwell mentioned during his call.
Good. His security team was ahead. For now.
He knew he had to negotiate carefully with the kidnappers to ensure her safety. And he was willing to pay any amount just to get his daughter back.
The phone in the living room began to peal. Everyone grew alert. After signaling that the trace was in place, Lonzo answered the phone.
“Vitale.”
“Ah, Signore Vitale, I was just wondering when will you show up,” the caller told him.
The caller was Sicilian.
“You have my daughter. I want her back,” he responded in Italian.
The man on the other line chuckled. “You are very direct, aren’t you, Mr. Vitale? Yes, your daughter is well. You can have her back for a measly one hundred million dollars.”
Done.
“I want proof she’s alive and well,” he said tersely.
“Mr. Vitale, I am a man of my word.”
“Listen to me, you sonofabitch. You touch a hair on her head and I’ll make sure that all bounty hunters will come after you and your men. Is that clear enough for you?” Lonzo spewed.
The police inspector signaled for him to calm down. Shit! They were right, he was putting his child’s life in danger.
The kidnapper laughed, thoroughly enjoying himself. “Mr. Vitale, I’m a businessman. I know you’re powerful in your own right. Nothing will happen to your daughter if you do as I say. I’ll be sending instructions on how you can retrieve her. Besides, she’s a cute kid. Looks a lot like that hot baby mama of yours—”
“I demand proof.”
“Persistent, aren’t you? Okay, okay…we’ll give you proof. Just keep your lines open, Mr. Vitale. I really have to cut this call now. It was nice doing business with you. And oh, one last thing…tell the mod squad that they can never trace this call. Ciao.”
The line went dead.
“Shit!” he heard the inspector cuss. The call wasn’t long enough for a trace, like the caller said. Their technology weren’t that advanced.
But his team had that capability. Blackwell can trace the call in ten seconds. It was the same technology being used covertly by the U.S. military and intelligence.
He spoke briefly with the inspector, conveying that he would inform them once the ransom details from the perpetrators came though.
Then he went back upstairs to check on Jordana.
He was on his way up when Blackwell called him for the second time.
“You got it?”
“Yes, we got a trace.”
“Where?”
“The call was placed in a phone booth near the London train station. We were able to get a clean look at our target…it’s Camorra, alright. We also got lucky when we were able to patch the London CCTV system. Made it easier to track them afterward. One of our guys is now tailing him.”
“Don’t lose sight of them...I want those bastards alive!” he bit out the command.
“We won’t. They will call you again. It wouldn’t be long now. Just play it cool, boss,” Blackwell reminded him.
“Call me right away once you got the info on their hideout,” he instructed.
“Aye.”
He continued his way to Jordana’s room after Blackwell’s call.
His chest was heavy with worry about the turn of events. He had to play his cards well with these kidnappers. One wrong move and they could easily snap his daughter’ neck...
He carefully opened Jordana’s bedroom but she wasn’t on the bed. Alarm bells went off inside his head. For a minute he feared that she might’ve been abducted, too.
But his rational side overruled his initial dread. She cannot get out of the house without being seen. He had this place surrounded.
He went out to look for her in the adjacent rooms, his face grim.
He found her in the nursery.
He was slumped on the floor, beside Gianna’s crib. Her arms were clutching a small pillow that must’ve belonged to their child. Her eyes were closed. She’d been crying, noting her tear-stained cheeks.
It was agonizing for him to see her like this— desolate, bereft, devoid of joy.
His throat closed up. He knew exactly what she was going through because he was going through the same.
She can’t possibly take any more of this alone, he thought.
“Jordana—”
The sound of his voice had an instantaneous effect on her. She straightened and leapt to her feet, her eyes accusing him for intruding into her solitude.
“Get out of here!” she shouted.
But he was having none of it. Whether she liked it or not, his place was to be with her. He was not going anywhere until they got their Gianna back.
He sighed heavily, but stood his ground. “You shouldn’t have left your room. Staying here will only upset you.”
Her amber eyes were furious. “What is it to you? What do you know? Nothing! Being in this room makes me feel closer to h-her. I’m comforted here…I m-miss her…”
But to him, she looked more anguished than comforted. “You need to rest,” said calmly.
“I can’t sleep knowing Gianna is gone! She will not be able to sleep! Not without hearing me sing her a l-lullaby first—”
“Stop this!” he cut in. “It’s doing nothing good. You’re only exhausting yourself!”
She went quiet before her emotions got the better of her again. “Oh God…oh God! I-I’m s-scared. My baby!”
He approached her, his arms held her tightly against his chest. She did not resist his embrace this time. “I know, cara. I am, too.”
The tears began to trickle down her cheeks again. “They might hurt her!”
She stopped to give him a look. “Are they capable of hurting a baby?” she said, her eyes darkened with anguish.
He stilled when he recalled Blackwell’s statement earlier. The kidnappers had a history of killing their victims. Hearing that earlier made him break out in a cold sweat.
He knew he cannot impart this information to Jordana right now or she’d break for sure. She was so emotionally fragile.
“No. They won’t hurt Gianna. She’s too valuable to be killed,” he said, trying to reassure her. And himself.
“Then why haven’t they called in yet? What’s taking them too long?” she asked.
“They already made contact,” he reluctantly imparted.
Jordana stiffened. “When? Why wasn’t I informed?!”
“You were resting.”
“Why only now?”
He sighed. “It’s their modus operandi. By not calling right away, they heightened our fears and made us nervous, in the hope that by the time they did call, we will be so scared that we will agree to all of their demands.”
“And did you?”
“They were asking for a hundred million dollars,” he replied.
Jordana’s eyes went round as saucers. “That’s a lot of money!”
“The money is no object but I want proof first that Gianna is alive.”
“You mean there is a possibility that she’s d-dead?” she asked wretchedly.
“I am not assuming anything, cara. I just want to be sure they really have her.”
“I want her back—”
“I promise you, we will have her back. And once we have her back, I’ll look after both of you…I’ll never let this happen again.”
“What do you mean by that?” she suddenly asked. She pulled herself away from him before facing him. “Let me get this straight, Lonzo—”
He winced at her sharp remark but he hid it well. “You’re distraught, cara. You have to rest.” His tone was deceptively light.
But Jordana wouldn’t let it pass. “It’s only her that I want! I don’t want you, damn you!”
She was unable to continue after that, her body racked by sobs that she couldn’t control. “My baby...!”
Lonzo pulled her back in his arms again. She didn’t push him away.
“You really need to rest, cara…” he said as he cradled her head on his shoulder.
“I don’t want to!” she protested weakly.
He held her on both arms, holding her away from him for a moment. “Both of us have to be strong for Gianna. You need to rest, do you understand?”
She nodded without looking at him. Once again, he locked her in his arms. Dio, she felt so good, he never wanted to let her go.
He sighed, before he scooped her up in his arms. He was relieved when she didn’t try to be difficult as he carried her from the nursery back to her bedroom. Jordana’s arms encircled his neck tightly for support.
He tried not to notice her softness as she pressed her side closer to his chest.
Once they reached the confines of her bedroom, he laid her to sit on the bed but instead of releasing her hold, she held on tighter, burrowing her head in his neck.
“Jordana?” he rasped.
She moved her head then. Her lashes lifted to expose her intense, beautiful eyes that mirrored her sadness. “I’m so tired, Lonzo...”
He felt gutted as he met her gaze. It was a struggle to contain himself. “I am tired too, cara. Tired of hiding I don’t want you,” he told her thickly.
She didn’t reply, merely looked back at him with eyes that reflected burning desire.
He couldn’t move. He wanted her and damn it, she wanted him too, he could tell.
The anxiety over the welfare of their child heightened his need for this woman even more.
The mother of his child.
“Lonzo—” she whispered, her voice tentative.
Then it just happened. Passion instantly flared, like a match thrown into a keg of dynamite.
In a space of a second, she was back in his arms again. He leaned down and seized her lips. It was supposedly a chaste kiss. But when her mouth met his hungrily, all the unquenched passion he felt for this woman was unleashed. Their mouths a union of their souls. He was lost, consumed yet he was also found and renewed.
He wanted and needed her now, more than ever.
He loved her. And he would love her beyond her hate. Beyond forever.
Her soft moans of encouragement were his downfall.
He continued to ravage her mouth like a man deprived. She tasted sweet, so damned sweet. God, how he missed her taste. It had been too long.
“Ah, cara you have no idea how sweet you are,” he rasped as he pulled her toward his heated body. His chest crushed her breasts, now fuller and heavier than he remembered. He felt her nipples harden at the contact of their bodies. His mouth watered at the thought of closing his mouth around them. He wanted to bite, lick and suck them until they turn into reddened peaks.
He removed her night robe, throwing the garment over his head. He cupped her generous breasts beneath the white nightgown she wore and groaned out loud.
Ahh, how he missed these beauties, he thought as he thumbed her nipples.
He slid down her front, unable to stop himself from suckling one throbbing peak through the thin fabric.
He groaned out loud.
Ambrosia.
Then she pushed against his chest. “No, Lonzo…we shouldn’t be doing this—”
“Shhhh,” he coaxed her willing body, removing her nightgown. His eyes feasted at what he just uncovered.
She wore red underwear. Lace.
Fuck. He was trembling in anticipation. He wanted to feel her tight, warm passage squeeze him again.
“I know you want me, cara,” he insisted hoarsely. “Your body still wants me. No sense in denying what we both feel. You’re wet , cara. And it’s all for me.”
“But…” she whimpered.
“Don’t think. Give us this night,” he gritted through his teeth.
He didn’t wait for her reply. He crushed his mouth over hers. She moaned, her tongue played with his, signaling her surrender.
Yes!
He clasped her butt cheeks and held her closer so that she could feel the hard ridge of his need.
“Cara…your taste drives me insane!” he muttered, ending his kiss to look down at her. “You’re an addiction that won’t go away, no matter how hard I try—” he admitted.
A shadow of pain crossed her expressive amber eyes. “So, the tabloids were right. You’ve tried …”
“Nothing happened, cara. My cock only wanted you—” he said as he shaped her breasts before opening the front clasp of the lacy, scarlet bra, spilling her heavy, milk-laden breasts into his waiting hands. “Ah, let’s not talk anymore, cara mia. I want to reacquaint myself with these beauties!” he said before lowering his head to lick one pink center.
She let out another moan, offering the other breast to him.
He was ravenous. He wanted her all at once, couldn’t get enough of her.
Fuck! Whoever said breast milk was best for only for babies?
His hand began to descend.
“No,” she said, holding his hand.
“Yes, cara,” he urged as he made his way down her body until his head was aligned with her aroused center.
“W-We can’t!” she gasped. “Oh! God…” she cried when he held both of her hips and kissed her through the lacy material of her thong.
His hand grasped her buttocks, preventing escape.
Her hips bucked up, despite herself.
When he removed her thong, he groaned when he found her wet and slick with her juices. He spread her further, encircling her clit before easing two fingers into her folds to test her readiness.
He stole a look at her face. Her lids were heavy with want.
“Dio, I missed you, cara. So warm, so tight,” he rasped as he began thrusting his fingers inside her sheath.
“Yes!” she cried, her body bending to his fingers like a bowstring. She began to tighten her walls around his finger. He could tell she was near…
He stopped abruptly. He was also close to coming and he wasn’t even in her yet.
She opened her eyes, her chest heaving. “Why did you stop?” she asked, her eyes confused.
He didn’t reply.
He flipped her over so she was now lying on her stomach.
“Lonzo—” she gasped as she looked over her shoulder.
Still, he remained tight-lipped as he began to shed his clothes. First came his shirt, then he unbuckled his belt and slid the zip of his pants.
He was so hot for her. She tried to stand up but he held her hips down with one hand.
“Stay,” he commanded.
“Please…” she moaned when he gathered her hips closer and brushed the head of his cock at her entrance, driving her mad by running it ever so slowly along her folds…
“Do you want this, cara?
“Yes!” she panted as she opened her legs to welcome him more.
Lonzo took one of the pillows and placed it under her, grunting his approval when she arched her back. He pulled back behind her again, kneeling between her thighs to taste her.
“Lonzo!” she cried.
He continued to pleasure her, building on her pleasure until she was close to coming again. He stopped when she was at the knife’s edge.
“No!” she protested.
“Tell me you want me, cara…” he demanded, as he poised himself at her entrance. He needed to hear it. Her sweet surrender.
“I want you…I cannot stand this anymore…” she sobbed.
Yes!
He flexed his hips and was inside her in one thrust.
“Ahh-h-h!” she mewed, her fingers clawed at the sheets.
He closed his eyes in bliss. God, she was so tight.
He let her adjust first, his hands going for her breasts, cupping the mounds and playing with the sensitive tips until she began to ease. It was only then that he was able to sheathe himself fully inside her.
He moved slowly, embedding himself deeper with each thrust.
She looked over her shoulder, her eyes glassy with desire. “Faster. Move faster, please…don’t make me wait, anymore—”
With a loud groan, he encircled her waist and drove himself deep and fast.
“Ahhhh!” she screamed, her internal tissues milking him as she came.
“Ahhh. Dio. Yesss!” Lonzo yelled in answer, anchoring himself on her shoulder as he pistoned and pounded her tight, clenching channel as he chased after his own fulfillment…groaning like a dying man as he pumped his seed deep inside her womb.
She’s mine again…my woman…I’ll never let her go, this was his thought before he collapsed on top of her still quivering body.