Chapter Thirteen
She found it really hard not to like Thio Fredo. He was a real sweetheart—a jolly person with a quirky, self-deprecating sense of humor that would often had her in stitches.
He reminded her too much of Spike, the only father figure she had ever known. For someone who lost and never really knew her own father, the old man’s open affection lifted some of the heaviness which had occupied a huge part of her heart for so long.
Despite his advanced age and lack of formal education, the old man was well-read on a lot of things that she found interesting. This blew off whatever plans of distancing herself from anyone remotely connected with Lonzo Vitale.
But then, things worked in her favor. She feared she’d be fair game to the papparazzi if she ventured out so she chose to stay put at Lonzo’s sprawling home. Despite her earlier misgivings, she found herself slowly relaxing and basking in the glorious Roman sun in the privacy of the villa. Thio, on the other hand, had a lot of idle time before his doctors give him a clean bill of health. Both chess and poker enthusiasts, they would spend afternoons trying to outdo each another while swapping stories on the side.
She was also able to employ their constant togetherness for something else—it kept Lonzo away. At least for the time being.
It was the same strategy she used when they arrived at the villa a week ago.
She smiled when she recalled Lonzo’s expression that night. Thio really put a damper on his nephew’s plans.
When they finished dinner, Thio shooed his nurse.
“It’s late. You have to retire,” Lonzo gritted.
“I took a nap this afternoon, nipote. I’m old. That means less sleeping hours. So if you want to go ahead and sleep, don’t let us stop you.”
She peeked and almost laughed at the tight look on Lonzo’s face.
The old man gallantly offered his arm and escorted her to the staircase that led to the second floor where the sleeping quarters were.
They stopped when they passed the first guestroom. Thio turned to her.
“I had the staff transfer your things inside,” he said before he pointedly glared at his nephew.
“Thank you. I had a great time,” she sincerely said, grateful fot Thio’s intervention.
The old man kissed both her cheeks. “Buona notte, figlia.” He then nudged her inside her room.
“Buona notte,” she said with a huge grin on her face. Her eyes drifted back to Lonzo. She couldn’t help herself.
His eyes narrowed into slits. Don’t you dare, he silently said.
Go suck a lemon! She cocked her brow at him as she deliberately closed the door.
A loud argument in Italian exploded between the two men.
Lonzo was shouting. “Mi sono stufato con questa merda!”
“Non esagerare.” Thio’s voice was calm.
“Cazzo!” Lonzo roared before she heard him walking away.
She found the entire episode downright funny. Who would have thought that her tormentor’s uncle was more effective than donning a chastity belt?
She loosened up a bit when she discovered that Thio Fredo was old school. He became her chaperon of sorts. Sure, Lonzo, being the wily bastard that he was, would still kiss her whenever he came home from work but that was it. No making out allowed. Whenever Lonzo tried to maneuver things, his uncle would appear out of nowhere, chastising him like a kid caught stealing cookies from a jar.
But that wouldn’t stop a man like Lonzo from trying.
It had turned into a game of cat-and-mouse.
Like what happened this morning. After they finished having breakfast, Thio Fredo excused himself because his nurse had to take his vitals.
Lonzo, the eternal opportunist, seized his chance. She never saw him coming. He was that fast. One moment he was sitting at the table, next he was kissing her—with such undeniable passion and all-consuming hunger, it made her knees wobble and her entire body tingle.
Scratch that.
Understatement of the year. That kiss short-circuited her brain.
They were both panting by the time they stopped for air.
“I should take you here, on top of this table,” he rasped in her ear, his hands touching her everywhere, like a man denied far too long.
He wore a suit that morning but she could feel his body beneath the urbanity of his clothes. He was hard all over. Especially where it really mattered—hot, erect and throbbing. For her.
Her hips moved in its own accord, seeking relief with his swollen maleness. She felt the power of her femininity taking over, inflaming both of them with savage need that had to be assuaged.
“Let’s go to bed. Now!” he said, his voice urgent.
You’re doing it again, her mind sneered. You give in too easily.
She blushed in shame before she pulled away.
“We can’t do this,” she began.
“We had an agreement,” came his steely reply.
“I don’t need any more reminding. But you can’t treat me like I’m some piece of meat!” she protested as she pushed against his chest.
“That wasn’t the message I was getting earlier,” he snarled. “You wanted it as much as I do.”
She glared at him.
“What can I say? It’s hard not to. You’re a very good kisser—”
He didn’t let her finish. He closed the gap between them and conquered her mouth again.
He rubbed his tongue slowly along her lips, coaxing her to open for him. When he nipped her lower lip, she couldn’t resist anymore. She parted her mouth, allowing him access to taste and tease—
Then they heard Thio Fredo clearing his throat in the background.
Busted!
Her cheeks reddened at being caught making out with her supposed “boyfriend”.
Lonzo’s chest was heaving. Seemed he was as affected as she was. It took him several seconds to calm down before he could turn and face his uncle.
“Why are you still here?” Thio asked, his brows raised.
“What, I can’t kiss my girl goodbye now?” Lonzo answered irritably.
Did her heart just leap when he said that?
“You’re going to be late,” his uncle reminded. “VI board meeting, remember?”
Lonzo’s eyes darkened. Tension filled the room. For a sec, she thought her pretend boyfriend would go all caveman and proceed with what they were doing earlier, regardless of the consequences.
Good sense won. Lonzo looked mutinously at Thio Fredo before storming out, muttering what sounded like “merda”. Man, he was really pissed. That was becoming his favorite cuss word lately.
Thio Fredo smiled smugly.
She felt awkward being left alone.
“Don’t be embarrassed, mie care. That young buck of mine had to be restrained every now and then,” Thio Alfredo remarked lightly. “Now, how about accompanying an old man for a stroll?”
Such a gentleman. She couldn’t help but smile. “Of course, Thio—” she said, linking her arm to the old man’s.
Lonzo was in a black mood when he arrived at VI’s headquarters in Rome.His staff scurried like mice as soon as they saw him. He barked orders left and right as he entered his office. Even his management team walked on eggshells when he joined them in the boardroom. They knew beforehand not to get in his crosshairs or there would be hell to pay.
His finance guy was the first to report. The man was sweating buckets as Lonzo grilled him. The problem at Gruppo Milanese was finally contained and resolved. He should be happy because he can now focus on rebuilding. But even that failed to lift the dark cloud that surrounded him this past week.
This is madness! And all because of a woman! He berated himself. Since when did he allow his personal dealings interfere with business?
Sexual frustration was an alien concept to him. There were plenty of willing women to get his rocks off. So why was he not getting some?
Exclusivity was never part of his equation. He needed variety because he got bored easily.
Until Jordana Almueda entered his orbit. What was it about that woman that kept him interested and wanting for more? She was a paradox. A fucking anomaly.
He mentally shook his head to clear it.
She may be an anomaly but he intended to be over and done with her within a month.
But what if a month was not enough? What then?
Lonzo swore out loud, startling his CFO, who was seated beside him.
“Sir—?” the man asked, alarmed.
He quickly recovered.
Focus, Vitale!
To make up for his lapse, he pointed out a flaw on the GM recovery plan being presented to him for approval.
By mid-day, everyone present at the meeting was on the edge of their seats. Many, if not all, had been at the receiving end of a verbal lashing or two from him.
Finally, he had succeeded in blocking Jordana from his mind.
Until his ultra-efficient PA slipped a note while he was listening to the presentation of his marketing VP.
The intrusion annoyed him.
“Patrizia, didn’t I tell you, absolutely no interruptions? No phone calls, I said!” he grated.
His assistant was unfazed, already used to his cantankerous nature. This was one of the reasons he hired her—she can deal with his rigorous and demanding pace. Patrizia was by far his longest-serving PA. Before she came along, he fired assistants every month because they went after him. It pissed him that instead of working their asses off, they waved their fannies in his face. He told his HR guy to get him a nondescript, but ultra-efficient assistant or else his head would roll. Patrizia fit the bill to a T. Not that she was plain or what…actually she can be very attractive if she wanted. But his PA chose to blend in the background, her ultra-formal business suits always crisp and smart, her demeanour always cool and level despite his demands. She suited him just fine.
“I know, Sir. But it’s your Uncle calling,” she informed him softly, her voice steady.
His irritation was quickly replaced by worry.
“Why?! Did something happen to him?”
“No, Mr. Vitale. He sounded fine. But he insists to have a word with you. He says it’s urgent.”
What was Thio calling about? To rub more salt at cockblocking him? He swore under his breath at his Uncle’s excellent timing.
“Excuse me, gentlemen—” he addressed the group as he stood to follow Patrizia. He could hear their collective sighs of relief from the reprieve.
He took the call inside his office.
“You better have a good reason for interrupting me, Thio…” he grated. He couldn’t hide the ire in his voice.
His uncle chuckled. “I know, dear boy. This won’t take long. Just sharing the good news. I received a call from Dr. Niconne when you left. He confirmed that I’m not dying today and all my vitals are back to normal.”
“Well, that’s good news, Thio—”
“Another thing…I used your chopper and your pilot.”
“How come I wasn’t informed?”
“Well, Patrizia said that you’re not to be disturbed. So don’t take it out on the pilot. It was my idea.”
“Where are you? Rome?”
“Rome? No. I’m at the vineyard. Jordana’s with me. I invited her, ” his uncle said smoothly, as if discussing the weather.
“What?!” he shouted.
“I left the nurses at the villa. I don’t need them anymore,” his uncle continued cheerfully. Too cheerfuly.
The line went dead before his uncle heard his string of cuss words.
Of all the irresponsible things…!
A bevy of emotions surfaced—anger, irritation, frustration.
This ends now, he told himself.
“Patrizia!” he bellowed.
Patrizia entered with another note at hand.
“Cancel everything on my schedule for the next three weeks.”
“Sir?” his assistant gave him a quizzing look. “You have a board meeting to finish and a meeting with the Trade Secretary—”
“I said cancel everything! I’ll deal with the board before I leave.”
“Of course. Very well, Mr. Vitale.”
“Call my pilot. Have the chopper on standby. I’m leaving as soon as I wrap this up.”
His PA went off to make the arrangement.
He turned to go back to the meeting, his mind wandering. He couldn’t wait to leave for Tuscany and fetch his woman.
MONTALCINO, TUSCANY
They arrived at the vineyard’s helipad before noon. Thio Fredo’s staff, including the caretaker and housekeeper waited for their arrival and took care of their belongings.
Jordana could only look in awe at the beauty of her surroundings.
The 250-hectare estate was alternately dominated by cypress woodlands and patches of olive groves interconnected by roads leading to the lodge. Despite the fact that she was well-traveled, the scenery was postcard-perfect and spectacular that it was hard not to fall in love with it.
The two-storey villa was originally built as a lodge of a member of the powerful Medici family but was later abandoned. The present-day structure was carefully restored by the best restoration architects and engineers, preserving its past character and bringing it to its splendor.
Jordana could easily imagine herself living in the past when she entered the farmhouse. Save for a few modern comforts, the main house remained almost untouched. A wrought iron staircase linked with oak wood planks led to the second level of the house.
Thio Fredo gave her a grand tour of the house and its premises.
As she stood looking at the tapered, winding pathway bordered by rows of Sangiovese grape vines already heavily-laden with fragrant fruit, Jordana finally understood the passion that drove Lonzo’s uncle back to his land situated at the ruggedly beautiful Tuscan hilltop town.
“My late wife’s family originally owned the villa and a parcel of the nearby land. Her family owned the estate since the first half of the previous century,” he said.
“This place is awesome,” she said sincerely. “Breathtaking.”
“Lucia thought so, too. She loved this place.”
“Was she…?”
Thio Fredo turned to her, his old eyes melancholic. “She was my late wife. This once belonged to her family.”
“You couldn’t wait to get back.”
“Her spirit lives in this land. I always felt closer to her here.”
“You must’ve loved her very much.”
“I did. I still do. She was the love of my life, the center of my universe.”
Jordana sighed. So there were men like Thio who still believed in love…the kind that even encompassed death. But they are a dying breed.
“I could just imagine what you went through when you lost her.”
Thio turned to face her. “I was broken. For a long time I was lost. Until Lonzo became my responsibility. That boy never knew, but he saved me…gave me a new purpose in life.”
Her brows knotted when she heard Lonzo’s name. “How did he end up with you?”
“Through very tragic circumstances.”
Sympathy pierced Jordana’s heart. “Oh.”
“I’m glad you’re with him now. You’re exactly what he needs,” he added.
She kept silent. In three weeks’ time, Thio would know the truth and it he might hate her for her part in this charade. She didn’t want to add to the lies.
Thio took her silence as further encouragement. “I know he can be a bit difficult—”
Difficult? Difficult doesn’t even cut it…
“He badly needs the love of a good woman…he never had that from his mother.”
She eyed Thio, her gaze questioning.
“Be patient with him, child. He’s not the easiest to love.”
She held her breath. Love? Oh, no. No way, she wouldn’t allow this lunacy to go that far.
“We’re…taking things slow,” came the white lie.
“You’re good for him. I knew it the moment I saw you. Lonzo doesn’t know it yet but once he realizes you’re the one for him, he won’t stray or look at another. ‘Cause you see…we Vitale men? We’re like wolves. We mate for life.”
She almost shook her head at the old man, her mind going back to the night she agreed to this arrangement.
He would never want her love, he said.
She swallowed as sadness welled up inside her, confusing her further.
Lonzo ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. He got delayed because his regular pilot got downed with stomach flu. It took another hour before the replacement arrived. By then, he was already simmering with impatience.
He was about to board the chopper when Patrizia called his attention.
“What is it this time?” he asked in annoyance.
“A package from Zeta arrived for you, Mr Vitale.”
“Can’t this wait?”
“Mr. Blackwell called to say it’s a supplementary report.”
“Put it on my table. Call Zeta and tell them to email me a copy. From this day forward, I’m incommunicado.”
“Yes Mr. Vitale.”
“Anything else?” his brows rose in question.
“That will be all, sir.”
“Thank you, Patrizia.” He turned and climbed inside.
“Have a safe trip, Mr. Vitale.”
His reply was drowned by the loud whir that emanated from the rotors. Lonzo glanced at his wafer-thin Patek Philippe watch.
It was already five in the afternoon. He calculated that in an hour or so, he’d be at the vineyard.
Good.
He’d be just in time for dinner. He settled back into his seat, looking forward for tonight because not even his uncle can keep him away from his woman. With that thought, he began to count the minutes.
It was too early to have dinner. To kill time, Thio Fredo led her to the library at the second floor. Jordana noticed the old photos neatly hanging on one wall. She moved in for a closer look.
Her eyes drifted and remained on a shot of a newly-wedded couple. The dark-haired bride was sitting on the grass with the groom. He was kissing her hand as they stared into each other’s eyes. It was very romantic.
“That was my wife and I, on our wedding day,” Thio volunteered.
“She’s very beautiful.”
“Yes. She was,” he said fondly. “Beautiful inside and out.”
“You made a really beautiful couple.” She smiled. There was no denying the love between the newlyweds.
“We were very happy.”
Jordana switched to the frame beside the wedding photo.
It was a picture of a small, handsome boy, holding a beautifully-crafted model train—his intense green eyes regarding the camera with a confidence beyond his years…yet there was also innocence and vulnerability there.
She automatically knew this was Lonzo.
“He just turned five in that picture. Three days after that was taken, my brother took his own life.”
Her eyes widened in horror.
“Jesus! I never thought…that’s terrible!”
Thio sighed deeply. It was clear that he still felt overwhelming sorrow over what happened.
“It was such a waste. He was a good man with so much promise…until he fell in love with the wrong woman.”
“Who... is she?” she asked hesitantly.
“His wife. He worshiped the ground she walked on. Love turned into an obsession. He couldn’t see her for what she really was—”
“What happened?”
“She left to be with her lover, a British aristocrat she met on holiday.”
“How can she do that? She has a child!”
“It was easy for her to walk away. Money had always been her motivation. I often wondered why Lorenzo fell in love and married such a horrendous woman.”
“Is she beautiful?’
He nodded.
“She was very beautiful.”
“Did she come back for Lonzo?” she asked next.
Thio Fredo’s nostrils flared at the memory.
“Yes, she did…but not for him. She came back to claim my late brother’s properties— including a small parcel of land which grew olives. Fortunately, Lorenzo changed his will when she left.”
“That’s horrendous!”
“Let’s just say my sister-in law had the maternal instincts of a cuckoo.”
“How did he deal with that? He was just a kid…”
“For the most part his mother ignored him until my brother’s will was read. She was furious and she lashed all her fury on him. Lorenzo left everything to him.”
“Did she sue for custody?”
“No, she didn’t. As his mother, she was entitled to but she never wanted the responsibility. Lonzo was nothing but a dead weight for her. I was ready for fight for my nephew and I was glad I didn’t have to.”
She felt a familiar squeezing pain in her heart.
Rejection wasn’t new to her—she had experienced it on an almost daily basis when she was just starting to model.
But being turned down for a modeling gig was nothing compared to the devastation felt by a spurned child.
It was the kind of hurt that lingered and festered. You can bury it inside the crypt of your mind and pretend you’d laid it to rest. But that would be a lie. There was no palliative for it. Not even time. Or in her case, work.
She knew exactly what Lonzo felt. Because she went through that, too.
Twice.
She blinked to clear her mind from the sudden onslaught of bad memories.
“Was he close to her?”
Thio slanted her an ironic smile.
“All boys at that age adored their mothers. He wasn’t an exception. When she walked out on them, my brother tried to protect him. He was too young to know the ugly truth. Lorenzo told him she was vacationing with her folks. Lonzo…” his voice cracked. “—he would gather his mother’s bedclothes around himself so he could sleep. Back then, he still believed she loved him. But my sister-in-law shattered that frail hope.”
“What did she do?” she asked, knowing she wouldn’t like what she would hear next.
“When she found out she’d been cut off from the will, she was enraged. She went back to the house to get any item of value she could get her hands on.”
“Where was Lonzo?”
“He was at the house, waiting for her. Was so excited to see her...he had packed his bags the night before. He ran toward her but she brushed him aside and went about her business.”
“Of all the cruelest things to do!”
“After she got what she came for, Lonzo held onto his mother's leg…crying and begging that she take him with her. And…” his voice trailed. “She kicked him away from her, screamed that she never wanted him…that she intended to abort him when she found out she was pregnant with him. And as a parting gift, she smashed that new toy train in that picture. The one that Lorenzo gave before he killed himself.”
A gamut of feelings went through her. Her eyes watered.
Oh, Lonzo…
“Where is she now?”
“She died when Lonzo was seven…the jealous wife of her lover had her killed. I know it’s bad to speak ill of the dead but God has a way of meting justice.”
She became pensive as she eyed the photo.
“How did he handle that after his mother…?”
“He became withdrawn. When his mother left for the last time, I found him in Lorenzo’s office. He was holding a piece of his toy train. He requested me to remove his mother’s bedclothes and things from the house. I asked him why. He said he never had or need one…”
A lone tear fell from a corner of Thio’s left eye. “I felt guilty for leaving him unprotected that day. I should’ve never left him alone with that woman…”
“It wasn’t your fault, Thio. You did what you can—”
“Not enough. He was a different boy. He grew up faster and acted older than most kids his age. Something in him died that day, turned a part of him into stone. So impenetrable that he never shed a tear when his mother died. He didn’t attend the funeral.”
Her throat constricted, her heart cried for the child that Lonzo was. Knowing what she knew now, she could figure out a facet of his persona. Why he was so distrustful of women. Why he didn’t believe in matrimony. His mother did quite a number on him.
“Why are you telling me all these, Thio?” she asked.
“I’m not blind to his faults, child. I know about his colorful dating life and his meaningless relationships with women. But I’ve seen the way he looks at you and it got me hoping…”
She felt so guilty that she almost revealed the real score between her and his nephew.
She was spared from that when they heard the sound of a helicopter landing in the distance.
“Who in the world will that be?” she asked aloud.
Thio Alfredo grinned broadly as he led her out of the library. “He’s a few hours late, but at least he made it before dinner.”
Her heart began to beat double-time. “Who’s coming to dinner?”
“Why, Lonzo, my dear. Come…let’s wait for him downstairs.”
Lonzo?! Here?! Half of her brain screamed.
So what if he’s here? You can easily handle him, the other half insisted.
Yeah. Right. Sure.
Hating Lonzo Vitale? Easier said than done, especially after Thio’s revelations.
Lonzo appeared a few minutes later, carrying his luggage in tow. Their gazes collided, stopping them both in their tracks. His eyes narrowed.
He said nothing.
She said nothing.
They just stood there staring, not even blinking, taking each other in. Her chest tightened as her heart pounded through her head.
Jesus. How can a man be so beautiful it hurts just to look at him?
“What are you doing here?” she asked, finally finding her tongue.
His accusing eyes momentarily shifted to Thio Fredo before it swung back to her face.
“Where my woman goes…I’ll follow, ” he answered with a deliberately slow smile.
She could see Thio Fredo smiling happily before he left the two of them alone.
She knew it was all for his uncle’s benefit but…it still made her toes curl.
“Drop the act.”
“Who says I’m acting? I miss my woman so I followed her here.”
“Oh please. It’s not as if you missed me or anything. You—”
“Fishing for compliments?”
She snorted.
“Me? Fishing? I don’t fish, Vitale,” she said, folding her arms defensively beneath her ample bosom. She saw his green eyes darken as he followed her movements, his eyes sweeping over her heaving breasts.
Flushed, she raised a brow at him. “My face is up here.”
He chuckled, not even embarrassed at being caught. “Can you blame me? It’s been what? A week already?”
Her cheeks heated up. “Thio Fredo—”
“Will no longer protect you, cara. So stop using him in your games.”
“I’m not—”
His eyes became hooded. “I want my woman in my bed. Tonight.”
His words sent her pulse rocketing.
How should she answer that? Crap! Think of something!
“Careful, Vitale. Or you might fall for me,” she said, trying to sound casual.
“No worries. I got that covered. That’ll never happen.”
Pretend or not, that hurt. But then, she walked in this arrangement with her eyes open, didn’t she? Life had handed her this bad hand…why not make the most of it? Consider it as an education and enjoy it for what it was.
“Good. I hate drama. I get a lot of that from where I come from,” she said carefully.
“Finally, we’re on the same page, woman.”
“Let’s set some ground rules to make this easier for us both.”
He frowned at that. “Like?”
“Let’s start afresh—that means zero sarcasm and animosity.”
“Fair enough.”
“Is that a yes?”
He smiled and her heart skipped several beats. “Yes.”
She was surprised at his agreement.
“Anything else?”
“This is so awkward…I know you’ve been with more experienced women and I’m new at this. So there may be times that I’m in need of guidance—”
He strode toward her before she could finish.
He framed her face with his hands. “I’d be happy to teach you, cara. With pleasure.”
Before she could reply, he crushed his mouth over hers, sealing the start of their ‘renewed’ arrangement.