Chapter Twenty
“You look like shit,” Rocco said. Clearly, the man had no filter.
He raised his head from the documents he was perusing to give his friend a dark scowl.
“And you look like a hen-pecked twit,” he drawled as he watched Rocco settle his useless ass on one of the visitors chairs. “I have a lot on my plate right now, cazzo. So state your business and get the fuck out of my office.”
His insults went like water off a duck’s back.
Rocco smirked and gave him a thoughtful once-over.
“I had to come here and see it for myself.”
“See what?”
“If there’s any truth to what Mama and Thio Fredo have been saying. Those two love to gossip about you.”
He gave an impatient snort. “I’m sure.”
“I see they’re right. You’re definitely into her.”
He gave his friend a sharp look before switching his gaze back to the papers on his desk.
“Drop it,” he warned. He didn’t want to think, much less talk about the woman.
“So…?”
“So what?”
His friend had a death wish. Maybe he’d make Mel a widow.
“What’s your plan?”
“What plan?” he blurted.
“Have you tried to call her? Talk to her?” Rocco drilled.
He gave up the pretense of working. He won’t be able to work with this devil around poking his nose into his affairs. “Haven’t you heard? She’s retired.”
“I know that. Duh.”
“So get the fuck off my back and leave it alone!”
“Oh. Someone’s grouchy! Not getting laid lately, aren’t you?”
“You’re really getting on my nerves.”
“What happened to you, Vitale? Huh? You used to be fun...so poker-faced! Now you’re so defensive, I can read you like an open book!”
“Vattene!”
Rocco laughed, unperturbed by his bad mood. “Still having problems with Gruppo Milanese?” he asked, changing topics.
He grunted. “I can handle Lucca Agnelli. Thank you for the concern, I’m certainly touched.”
“I can see that. GM’s stock rebounded these past months. I held on to a huge chunk of stocks I bought really low when you came on board. I knew the price dip was temporary, after that failed buy-back that Agnelli attempted to machinate. You, my dear paisan, made me a richer man.”
“I didn’t intervene when the share price fell,” he let out. “It made Agnelli and his cronies shit in their pants. In the end, they got jittery and sold to cut their losses. I bought the shares at a bargain. Fucking stronzos.”
“Poor farts didn’t know what hit them,” Rocco said, amused. “You’re too good, my friend. Shit, I’d hate to be your enemy.”
He shrugged. “It started as purely business, nothing more. Agnelli just made it personal.”
“And what about Jordana? Is she personal?” his friend segued back to their original topic.
He threw his arms up in frustration. “It’s none of your fucking business, you stronzetto!”
Rocco eyed him speculatively. “I won’t leave until you tell me. Mama and Mel went shopping. I have all the time in the world to bond with my dearest, oldest friend.”
He sighed.
“Of course I tried. Her number’s disconnected.”
“What about her business manager…the one who went to my wedding?”
“Yes, I called up Bastian.”
“And? Can you try answering instead of grunting answers?”
He flipped his friend in irritation. Rocco laughed.
“The guy went ballistic. He told me I’ll die a slow, painful death if I approached her.”
“Harsh. You think they’re involved?”
He shrugged.
“I had no idea. I can’t bloody ask her now, can I?. Even Blackwell couldn’t track her,” he confessed.
Six months had passed since she ran off with his money. The check went stale without being encashed. Still no sign of her. He suspected Bastian must be hiding her somewhere. A nuclear bunker? Who knows. He was about to tighten the noose on her business manager…until he learned that the loan package he extended had already been paid months ago. He lost his only leverage.
Now, he can’t even get an appointment with the guy.
“I don’t even understand how the two of you hooked up. You were so against supermodels, if I remembered it right.”
“Long story. And I’m not telling.”
“Damn, I should’ve recorded that conversation! You were hilarious!”
“I’m glad you’re having a good time,” sarcasm dripped off his tongue.
“And what about Chris?”
“What about him?” he growled.
Rocco guffawed. “Wow. Wait right there.”
His bestfriend fished his cellphone and took a quick snapshot of him.
“Rocco…? What the fuck…?!”
The lunatic showed him the picture he took. “I’m going to caption this: ‘Lonzo Vitale Feeling Jealous’.”
“Do that and I’m going to murder you.”
“Did Chris stir the pot?”
“Fuck, you don’t know when to shut up, don’t you?”
“Only around you, Lonzo. Hah! I knew it! You’re in love with her!”
Lonzo was speechless for all of ten seconds. Which made his bestfriend laugh like a maniac.
“I don’t love. I just fuck.”
“Until Jordana.”
“So you’re a relationship expert now?”
Rocco’s laugher echoed inside his office. When it finally died down, he turned serious.
“Look, I know what you’re going through, man. I went through the same thing. I wasn’t in a good place while I was trying to deny that I love Mel. It was too soon and I was a jaded bastard like you.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this—”
“Acceptance is the first step. You got to admit it first. This is like AA.”
He knew he had to say something snarky. But he couldn’t dispute his friend’s statement. Because fuck it, he was at his wit’s end. He had to talk to someone or lose his mind.
“My life had been perfect. And then I met that strega. No thanks to you, asshole—”
“You must send a proper thank you card to my wife.”
“Now I can’t focus! She lives inside my head, damn it!”
“Yes. You got all the symptoms. That’s the love bug,” Rocco said smugly. “You finally got it, my man. Congratulations, you’re human.”
He gave his friend an irritated look. “This is lust. Nothing more.”
Rocco continued to grin from ear to ear, enjoying himself. “Whatever, pal. So, why did it end?”
He gave another exasperated breath.
“I asked her to become my partner,” he admitted.
Rocco’s eyes rounded. “Marriage?! You offered her marriage?! Now you’re talking!”
“You deaf? I asked her to move in with me, not become my wife.”
“Same thing. It’ll eventually lead to you wearing a tux,” his friend said in a teasing tone.
He speared him with a wintry glare before staring blankly ahead. “Whatever. No possibility of that ever happening. She’s nowhere to be found.”
Rocco eyed him for a moment, as if weighing things in his mind.
“Well, Lonzo my friend, today’s your lucky day—”
Fifteen minutes later, he saw Rocco out.
Next, he gave rapid-fire instructions to Patrizia: clear his calendar for an entire week and to arrange for necessary transport.
He would be leaving for England first thing in the morning.
“Dana, don’t be stubborn about this. You need to tell them both. Leandro and that good-for-nothing whom my husband calls ‘bestfriend’,” Mel insisted as she gave her that no-nonsense stare that pierced her even through the screen of her tablet.
Jordana wasn’t ready to deal with that. Yet.
Mel and she began communicating more than a month ago via Skype. She felt guilty for hiding her condition from her bestfriend, so she went clean.
Mel was flabbergasted when she revealed her connection to Leandro.
But when she stood up and shown her friend her pregnant state, Mel was floored.
Her friend was furious when she told her that Lonzo was involved in the child’s gene pool.
Since then, Mel had been urging her to sue the man for child support.
She refused, but Mel wouldn’t drop it.
“You should’ve told him from the beginning.”
She shook her head.
“Honey, look. Whether you like it or not, Lonzo have rights over the child. He has a right to at least know.”
“If I had told him, he’d probably push me for termination,” she said.
Mel was horrified. “He told you that? When?!” she asked incredulously.
She sighed. This was exactly what she tried to avoid. Mel was loyal and that might affect her friend’s relationship with her new husband, who was Lonzo’s bestfriend.
“He never wanted to have children,” she stated.
“Aren’t you jumping the gun a bit?” Mel asked her gently.
“I think it’s best he didn’t know,” she insisted. Lonzo had told her again and again that he did not believe in marriage. Love, he said, had no place in his life. He was full of hate, cynicism and bitterness. That wouldn’t be good for her kid. A child needed love to grow up happy and secure.
“Forgive me, Dana. I know Lonzo can be an ass most of the time but I find it hard to believe he’ll force you to abort his child. I’d still give him the benefit of the doubt. Besides which, it’s too late for him to push you to have one.”
“Mel—”
“The baby’s almost due, Dana. Now is the time to tell him. And Leandro, too. That man will surely be a doting uncle.”
She sighed again. “I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think. Do it. My God, Dana...you’re almost about to give birth! Do it for the baby. At least tell Leandro about your condition so he can look after you if you deliver early. He’s your brother!” Mel exclaimed.
“That’s what I am afraid of. You know his temper, how overprotective he can be. He’ll pull an avenging angel act for sure. And I don’t want that.”
“Your health and the baby’s is the priority.”
She smiled at her friend.
“I’ll think about it, Mel.”
“I worry about you.”
“Don’t. Besides, I already made arrangements with the nearest hospital. They’ll be here the moment I feel contractions.”
“Promise me that you’ll think this through. When’s your due date? Maybe I can ask Rocco to let me see you for a week or two—”
“No, no need for that, Mel. Please, I don’t want to impose on you two newlyweds! It wouldn’t be proper.”
“I guess, you’re right. The bloke panics whenever I’m out of his sight. Thinks I’m some sort of breakable china. Sometimes it drives me mad I just want to bash his head,” Mel informed her sheepishly.
She felt envious of her friend. Mel and Rocco had each other. Whereas she…
She shook her head. She won’t dwell on things that were too depressing to contemplate. It won’t be good for the baby.
And as if on cue, her baby gave a mighty kick that sent her huffing for air.
“Dana? Is everything alright?” Mel’s voice was anxious.
She smiled, patting her huge tummy.
“It’s the baby…voicing out his or her opinion on the matter. By soccer-kicking my innards.”
Mel laughed. “Well, you’re going to have a very opinionated squirt to keep your hands full.”
Lonzo parked the rented BMW on one side of the road. He could see the cottage a hundred yards away from where he was.
He drove all the way from London. He pushed the limits of the car to eat more miles until he reached the village. From there, it wasn’t hard to ask around where he could find Robin’s Nest. A few minutes more and he finally reached his destination.
He didn't feel exhausted at all even if he didn't sleep a wink after his jet landed on English soil last night. Driving the car really fast helped release all the adrenaline he needed.
He left the car to walk toward Jordana’s hideaway.
He was a few steps away from his woman and his body was already reacting.
Great.
He was sporting a massive hard on that even a Jedi mind trick cannot deflate. Thankfully he was wearing a coat which hid his embarrassing condition.
The cottage had a private garden and its own gated pathway separate from the main estate. Manicured honeysuckle vines kept the property secluded from outside, while cameras provided additional security. Lonzo could easily understand why this getaway appealed to her.
He pressed the buzzer.
Five minutes passed and no Jordana came out. He was getting really pissed from waiting.
She didn’t want to see him? Well, too bad for her. No walls will come between them!
And to hell with security cameras, he thought as he deftly climbed over the heavy wrought-iron gates. He marched determinedly toward the cottage and knocked in rapid succession on the heavy wooden door.
“Just a moment!” her voice drifted from inside.
He held his breath in anticipation, as he waited for her to open up.
The door swung open and what he saw astounded him.
His former lover was heavily pregnant and was looking back at him with pure shock on her lovely face.
He too, was immobilized by shock.
Then all the puzzle pieces fell into place. All the mysteries answered.
Why she left in a hurry.
Why she didn’t encash the check.
Why she hid.
She was pregnant.
Pregnant with someone else’s child.
Chris Falcone’s child, most likely, as she had been seeing the guy after she left Italy. Or it could be Bastian’s for all he knew.
He felt the bitterness flood his body.
He had offered her a place in his life. She made him wait like a fool...while she ran off to have her other lover’s baby.
She probably knew she was pregnant on their last night together! That’s why she asked him to go bareback.The bitch!
Damn her for making him feel this way!
“Lonzo—,” she began.
Hearing her voice made him shatter. “So tell me, cara…whose bastard are you carrying?” he snarled bitterly, looking at her swollen body with disgust.
She visibly flinched.
“Answer me, damn you! Whose child is it?!” he shouted at her.
She went pale, her eyes dimmed with pain.
But instead of answering him, Jordana turned her back, shutting the door on his face.
“Oh no, you don’t!” He pushed the door open and followed her inside the dwelling.
She turned at him, her eyes furious.
“Who the hell do you think you are barging here without an invitation?!”
“A deceitful bitch like you doesn’t deserve the courtesy,” he sneered as he closed in on her.
“Stay away from me, you bastard! I have nothing to say to you!”
“I’m not leaving until you tell me the truth. I deserved to know why you played me.”
“Go to hell, Lonzo! For you to think…damn you! This is your child I’m carrying!” she said, her amber eyes hard with undiluted fury.
His heart plunged.
She would dare pass another man’s child as his?! She thought he’d be that stupid?
So this was her agenda all along. Did she really think she could pull off this grand scheme and get away with it? That he would be so crazed with lust for her that he’d swallow her lies?
He laughed harshly, devoid of humor.
“So I was right all along. You were really eyeing for something bigger,” he said, his voice laced with mockery. “Sorry to destroy your dreams, cara mia…but you aim too high.”
God! Lonzo could be such a sadistic bastard.
Jordana’s eyes hurt from the unshed tears but she refused to let them fall, especially when she heard him utter those careless words about their child.
She had hoped he would at least hear her out. But he thought the worst of her again. Damn him!
“I thought after we made love at your suite—”
He laughed at her mockingly.
“What? Made love? No we didn’t make love. We had sex. Sex I paid for, remember?” he said.
There’s your answer, missy…
It was excruciating to hear him reduce what had happened between them into something sordid and ugly.
Her hand made contact with his cheek before she could stop herself.
“You’re despicable!” she gasped.
“Despicable but brilliant in bed. You said so yourself over and over,” he replied contempt. “Do you plan to use your body again as a bargaining tool after you gave birth or if Bastian decides to run into money troubles again?”
She gasped. “Damn you! I never wanted your money!” she exclaimed.
“So you say,” he said, his voice taunting.
She reeled from his verbal assault, his words struck her heart like an RPG, tearing it into a million pieces.
You only have yourself to blame, her brain said.
You allowed yourself to fall. Now you’re in pieces.
He wasn’t finished with his hurtful tirade yet.
“I was right about you. I should have trusted my instincts. You thought that giving me your precious virginity would tip the scales in your favor. That I would be compelled into making you my wife. And now you want to pass off Bastian or Falcone’s bastard as mine!”
Each word he uttered was like a lance hitting her soul
He refused to acknowledge his own flesh and blood.
That was the last straw. She had had enough.
He had no right to involve the baby in his hatred.
He had no right to hurt her child before it was even born. She would never tolerate that.
She glared at him, her eyes flashing like a lioness defending her cub…a cub still lying defenseless in her womb.
If he didn’t want the baby, so be it.
She wouldn’t have him in her life.
“You listen to me, you asshole… you think too highly of yourself! I will never aspire to marry someone so rotten, so warped as you! As for me passing my child as yours…you’re greatly mistaken. That will never happen, Vitale. I can raise my kid without any help from you or anyone. At least my child will be spared from knowing the ugly truth—that he was fathered by a sub-human like you!” she said with a newly-found viciousness.
He was taken aback but he quickly recovered, his eyes condemning her.
She squared her shoulders and stared back at him.
“To think that I thought I fell in love with someone like you. Such a waste of emotion. You don’t deserve to be loved. Remember this well: I hate you. And I’ll continue hating you until my dying days,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Now, get out. Get out!”
For a while, Lonzo stilled, like he was having an inner battle with himself. Then, without a word, he turned and went out, leaving her alone.
For several seconds, she found herself standing wearily, breathing heavily. She felt weak, her knees rubbery. She slumped at a nearby chair.
Her entire body trembled from their epic clash of wills.
Calm down, it’s not good for the baby, she told herself.
Then she felt it.
A sharp, searing pain.
She tried to stand up to reach for the phone, but she doubled over in agony. Something warm began to trickle along her thighs.
Did her water just broke? She wondered.
And when she looked down, she screamed at what she saw.
Oh my God, oh my God!
It was blood.
She was losing her baby.
No, no, no! Not her baby!
It was her last horrifying thought before she slumped on the floor and lost consciousness.
Lonzo was still debating with himself as he walked away from cottage. A part of him felt he just made the biggest mistake of his life. Damn it! What if the baby was really his?
He stopped from walking, as he tried to clear his head.
Her belly looked really swollen, indicating that she was in the last stages of her pregnancy.
There was a time when he failed to use protection with her. In Paris. His heart began to race as he made several mental calculations. Nine months…give or take. That would mean that the baby was conceived in...Paris.
Dio...!
He made an about face, intending to go back when he heard her blood-curdling scream. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
Jordana!
Something happened to her.
Fuck!
He ran as fast as he could and kicked the door open. He found her lying on the floor, ashen-faced and unconscious.
Dio, what have I done?
He scooped her in his arms and carefully deposited her on the couch. Then he saw the blood on her thighs.
He tasted absolute fear in his mouth.
He was going to lose her.
No!
Adrenalin kicked in. He switched on his phone and dialed 999 to ask for an emergency dispatch.
“Hello? This is Lonzo Vitale. There’s been an emergency and I need an ambulance right away!”
The dispatcher on the line calmly asked him for additional information about Jordana—her name, address, general condition and their relationship.
“She’s my… girlfriend. Hurry up, please. She’s losing a lot of blood. She’s nine months pregnant with our baby—”
Never in his life had he ever felt so helpless as the idea of losing her began to loom.
No! He will never allow that to happen!
He had verbalized his thoughts without him knowing. He heard the dispatcher trying to calm him.
“Sir, please remain calm. The ambulance will be there shortly,” the dispatcher reassured him.
He had no choice but to sit out the minutes. Minutes which stretched like hours as he held Jordana’s clammy hand, whispering words in her ear.
Less than ten minutes passed when he heard the siren from the ambulance.
Four medics rushed inside the cottage carrying a gurney. They checked Jordana’s pulse and vitals before carefully securing her on the stretcher. They lifted and briskly moved her to the waiting ambulance. He wanted to jump inside but the paramedic stopped him.
“Sir, it will be best if you follow us from your car.”
“Why?” he asked, crazed with worry. “How is she? Is she going to be alright?”
“She has a very slow pulse at the moment and her vitals are not looking great. We’re trying to save your girlfriend and your baby’s life. Let us do our job, sir.”
He nodded reluctantly. He jumped inside the car and followed the ambulance.
He was overwhelmed. It felt like he was splitting at the seams. Mel. He had to tell Mel or else he would go completely mad from worry.
He quickly dialed Mel’s number and gave her a rundown of what happened.
Rocco’s wife screamed at him for a full five minutes.
“What did you do to her?!” she demanded, her voice anxious and furious at the same time.
“It was my fault. All of it. I was surprised when I saw she’s pregnant. We had a fight. I thought—”
“You thought she slept around and got knocked up by another man?! When you were the only man she ever slept with! You letch! You don’t deserve her!”
“I know,” he said softly, totally contrite.
“Where is she now?”
“I’m following the ambulance. They are taking her to the nearest hospital.”
Mel asked him for the name of the hospital, which he supplied earnestly.
“Listen to me, Vitale. I don’t care shit that you’re my husband’s best friend. If anything happens to her or the baby, you have me to answer for!” she shouted at him before disconnecting the call.
At the mention of the baby, Lonzo almost broke down. Because he knew in his heart that Jordana had been telling the truth all along.
The baby was his. And now, because of his conceit and supreme arrogance, he might lose them both.