Beautiful Distraction (45 page)

LAST
WILL AND TESTAMENT

OF

ALESSANDRO
LUCAZZONE

I, Alessandro
Lucazzone, of Bellagio, being of sound and disposing mind, do hereby make,
publish and declare the following to be my last Will and Testament, revoking
all previous wills and codicils made by me. This Will may at any time be
revoked by me at my sole discretion.

ARTICLE
1

IDENTIFICATION
OF FAMILY

I declare that I was
married to Maria Agrusa, to which I have referred herein as my ‘spouse’. We had
no children, living or deceased.

All of the properties
of my estate (the “residue”), after payment of any taxes or other expenses of
my estate as provided below, including the property subject to a power of
appointment hereby shall be distributed to BROOKE MARY STEWART.

I sucked in a sharp breath at seeing my name. My mind was
spinning. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I was in shock because I
couldn’t think clearly. My brain was numb.

“Do you understand what this is, Brooke?” Jake asked,
forcing me to look up.

“Yes, it’s Mr. Lucazzone’s last will. But…why are you
showing it to me? I don’t know him personally.” My voice sounded choked as I
fought to grasp the meaning of what looked like the photocopy of an original
will written in legal English. In theory, I had read about the old man’s life
in Jett’s files. But the whole situation was too huge to grasp. I was supposed
to handle the case, not meet with a lawyer and talk about the next of kin. If
there was proof of alien life on another planet, I would have been a lot less
surprised.

I shook my head. A will, my name, and Alessandro’s—three
things, and all on one paper? That was impossible. Insane.

“This must come as a bit of a shock but,” Jake tapped the
end of his pen on the paper, right where Alessandro had signed his name, “you
are the heir.”

“It can’t be.” I shook my head in denial. “It must be a
mistake.”

The will declared Maria Lucazzone’s relatives as the
beneficiary, even though according to Jett’s file there was none.

“Initially Mr. Lucazzone decided to pass the estate on to
various charities,” Jake said. “However, a few weeks ago it came to his attention
that his deceased spouse had relatives in the United States. It took us a while
to ascertain your father’s identity, but since he’s no longer with us and he
has no siblings, you’re the next of kin. In a gesture of goodwill, Mr.
Lucazzone changed the testament in your favor upon one condition.” He paused
for effect and smiled. I stared at him, open-mouthed, still not getting his
drift. “My client is a very ill man, who could pass away any minute. He wants
to meet his heir before he dies.”

I knew the answer, but I still had to ask. “How can I
possibly help you?”

He pushed an envelope across the table, toward me. “Brooke,
we’ve wasted enough time searching for your father, and when we discovered he
had passed away, it took us a while to get hold of you. We’d like you to come
with us straight away, so you can meet with your great-great-uncle and sign the
necessary paperwork. I took the liberty to purchase two tickets for you, in
case you want to bring a person of your trust along.”

I peered inside the envelope at two first class flight
tickets, and all blood drained from my face. He wasn’t joking. I shook my head,
forcing huge gulps of air in and out of my lungs.

“I’m—” My speech eluded me. I felt stupid thinking
that I was the heir to an estate, let alone utter the words that burned a hole
in my head.

An estate worth millions—millions Jett offered
Alessandro Lucazzone.

A thought entered my mind that maybe it was all a con. Maybe
Jett tricked Alessandro into thinking I was the heir, when I wasn’t. The old
man might not want to sell his property for the original, more than generous
offer, but the heir was more than likely to. And Jett always told me he trusted
me. Maybe he’d go this far to get the estate. It was a possibility I couldn’t
discard. Countless questions and theories flashed through my head, but there
was little time to think them all through.

“Are you interested?” Jake asked.

Hell yeah, I was. Who wouldn’t be?

“Yes,” I said slowly.

“Very well. I’m glad to have made your acquaintance.” Jake
smiled and reached out his hand to shake mine, then pushed yet more sheets
across the table. I caught a glimpse of financial reports, plot measurements,
and contracts. “Congratulations, Brooke. You’re the future heir of the
Lucazzone Estate. Clarkson & Miles couldn’t be more delighted to represent
your interests and, I hope, build a thriving and long-lasting relationship for
the future.”

Half an hour later, I maneuvered my old Volvo through the
slow traffic. I was still hyperventilating from the shock. The more I thought
about it, the more everything felt surreal. Almost like a dream. Maybe it was
nothing but an error, a case of mistaken identity, a scam. Maybe Clarkson had
the wrong Brooke Stewart, because inheriting a large European estate sure
didn’t sound like something that would happen to me. To my surprise, the first
person I wanted to share my news with was Jett. I tried to reach him on my
cell, and when he didn’t pick up I left a voicemail to call me as soon as he
got my message. The second person in line was Sylvie.

My head was giddy with excitement as I parked my car across
the street and dashed through the lobby of our apartment complex, then up the
stairs because the elevator was busy. When I entered—half-breathing,
half-choking—Sylvie didn’t even look up from her comfortable seat on the
couch.
My heart was beating so fast, I figured it was
only a matter of time until it burst. But Sylvie noticed none of it. Only when
I bent over, trying to catch my breath, did she look up surprised.

“Hey. Did you run a marathon?” She sounded rough and looked
the part, dressed in sweatpants and a washed out, oversized tee. Under normal
circumstances I would have paid attention, but her face looked okay and her
hair was its glossy self, so I figured it was nothing but post binge drinking
depression or something. Whatever was going on, it couldn’t possibly beat my
news.

“Guess what.” I kicked my high heels off and slumped onto
the couch, minding her outstretched legs. She pushed them onto my lap and
leaned back against the pillows with a bored sigh.

“You got sacked.”

“No.” Frowning, I shook my head. “Why would I be happy about
that?”

Sylvie shrugged and let out another bored sigh. I made a
mental note to help her find a job so she finally had some meaning in her life.

“I met with that lawyer today.” Of course that barely
managed to spark a glint of recollection, as though it hadn’t been the subject
of our obsessive compulsive speculation the night before. I stared at her,
realizing even though she was sitting inches away from me, she wasn’t here
mentally.

“Yeah?” She sounded about as interested as a five-year-old
listening to a long and drawn out PhD thesis.

“Want me to switch on the TV instead?” I tickled her feet in
mock annoyance, knowing she hated it.

She pulled her legs up to her chest and sat up. Her blue
eyes glowered at me. “Sorry. I’m so tired and bored. This day’s been dragging
on forever.” She had reached the unemployment slump. I nodded sympathetically.
“I need something to do. Like—”

“Find a job?” I suggested. She returned my smile and I
continued, “Or you could come with me to Italy. I know this magical place with
mountains and lakes and the most amazing Tiramisu you’ve ever tasted.”

She eyed me carefully, not quite sharing my enthusiasm.
“Another business trip?”

“Nope. I’m the sole heir of the Lucazzone estate.”

Her jaw dropped. She opened her mouth, and then closed it
again, and a frown creased her forehead. I could almost read her thoughts in
her fast changing expressions, as she tried to make sense of my statement.
Eventually, she said, “The Luzzone what? You don’t mean that place across the
lake?”

Of course she was stunned. And in disbelief. I had been too,
but speaking out the unspeakable helped me wrap my mind around the sheer
incredulity of it.

“It’s Lucazzone,” I corrected her. “The attorney kept
calling to arrange a meeting and discuss the will’s content. The old man,
Alessandro Lucazzone, wants to meet me. Jake’s secretary’s booked two flight
tickets for tomorrow night.” I jumped up and grabbed Sylvie in a hug. “We’re
going to Bellagio. How about that?”

Her expression didn’t quite catch on to my enthusiasm. “Are
you sure you’re not being scammed? You know, like getting an email telling you
you’ve won or inherited a million, and then you’re supposed to enter your bank
details.”

I shook my head, ignoring the urge to groan. “It’s a
legitimate law firm. Jake never asked for my bank details. And may I remind you
he knew my name, address and so forth prior to contacting me?”

From the glint in her eyes, I could she was having a hard
time believing it. To be honest, so was I.

“You’re right,” Sylvie said. “But just to be on the safe
side, let’s ask Doctor Google.”

She booted up her laptop, and I entered Clarkson & Miles
in the search engine. After less than a second, a picture of Jake popped up
along with his company’s details. A few minutes later, I found some mention of
the Lucazzone Estate and that Clarkson & Miles had been the appointed law
firm for the last five years. Everything looked legitimate.

“That’s him and that’s the estate,” I pointed at the screen
and inched forward to regard the tiny picture of Alessandro Lucazzone and his
deceased wife. Even though it was blurred, and probably old, I could make out a
few details about her, like her stubborn jaw and the way her brows arched in a
slight V shape, just like my father’s.

Maybe I was beginning to see similarities where there were
none. Or maybe half of my family descended from Italy and no one ever bothered
to tell me.

Sylvie leaned over me and sucked in a sharp breath. “Jesus,
Brooke. You’re rich!”

***

“Didn’t Jett take you to that place?” Sylvie asked.

“Bellagio?”

She nodded. Motioning her to wait, I poured two cups of café
latte, grabbed the cookie box, and returned to the sofa, where Sylvie sat
cross-legged, eagerly awaiting my full account. I placed the cups on the couch
table and passed her a cookie dipped in milk chocolate—my absolute
favorite.

“There better be lots of hiking opportunities, because I’ll
need lots of it after this.” She held up a cookie before biting off half, and
moaned with ecstasy. I laughed because it was our inside joke. Sylvie could eat
like a horse and wouldn’t gain a pound.

“So, did he take you to the same place?” Sylvie asked. The
cold undertone in her voice surprised me and I remembered what she said about
him moving in a different society.

“Well, sort of. We stayed on the other side of the lake.”

“But it’s still the same place, isn’t it?” she insisted.

Where the hell was she going with it? I scanned her face for
any clues. Her expression was impassive, all except for the strange glint in
her eyes. I swallowed the half-chewed cookie inside my mouth, suddenly
oblivious to the buttery taste of the dough dipped in the creamiest chocolate
twenty dollars could buy. She took my lack of response as an affirmative.

“Yes,” I said. As though I was confirming her suspicions,
she nodded. “Why are you asking?”

“That’s quite the coincidence.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

She brushed her long hair back and moistened her lips as her
blue gaze bore into me. “I know you’re still under the influence of his big
dick and the dreamy stuff it did to you, but you need to switch on your brain.
And pronto.” She raised her hand to stop the angry protest on my lips. “I’m not
suggesting anything. But you’ve got to admit it’s a big world and he took you
to the one place you’d inherit. Do you
really
think that’s a coincidence?”

A cold shudder ran down my spine. She didn’t even know half
of it. How could I possibly tell her the rest and not feel completely stupid?
“Actually, it’s the same estate he’s been trying to buy.” And the same estate I,
as the heir, probably would have given to him, just to see him happy—had
he just asked. But he didn’t. Which led me to my next concern. Did he use me?
Was I naïve to believe what we had was real?

We stared at each other for a few moments. The magnitude of
our words hung heavy in the air.

“Maybe it’s a coincidence,” Sylvie said, breaking the
silence. “Maybe he didn’t even know there were relatives.”

According to Jett’s file, the company had watched Alessandro
Lucazzone for ten years. Was it really possible the private detective never
found out about a possible heir? Possible. And then he hired me? Unlikely. Coincidence?

“I don’t know. This is fucked up.”

“When was the will signed?” Sylvie asked.

I grabbed the copy of the will Jake left me and scanned it
once more until I found the date.

Shit.

“About six weeks ago.” Jett and I hadn’t met yet. The way I
saw it, it must have taken Jake at least four weeks to prepare the necessary
paperwork, double check my identity and heritage, and then contact me. Only I
wasn’t around to receive the news because Jett had whisked me off to Italy. But
why hire me to acquire the estate in the knowledge I was the heir? Unless he
wanted me to fall for him in the hope I’d do anything to please him.

“I think he tried to set me up,” I said slowly as the realization
dawned on me. A pang of pain shot through my chest, threatening to kill me. I
snorted and shook my head. Coincidence, my butt. You’re not usually hired on
the spot without even applying for the job, get jetted off to a luxurious
mansion, enter a relationship with the hot boss, and inherit an estate worth
millions, which happens to be the one estate your boss can’t seem able to buy.

“He tried to set me up,” I repeated. “I can’t believe I
didn’t see it before.”

“Why would you say that?” There was no surprise on Sylvie’s
face, no sign of disagreement, just caginess, as though she knew it was the
truth but needed me to acknowledge it first so I wouldn’t blame her.

Don’t shoot the
messenger.

I smiled bitterly. How very true. “Jett gets whatever he
wants. He simply makes it happen. His tactic is to sweet-talk the owners with
expensive trips and meals, and then get them to sign.” I wondered if he slept
with all his female targets, or just me.

“Maybe it wasn’t his intention. It could still be
coincidence.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Sylvie.” My voice raised a notch. “He
made me believe he cared for me, and I fell for it. I fell for his whole love,
attraction, sex stuff.”

“Are you going to let him explain?” Sylvie asked.

I shook my head, wiping away the tears gathering in the
corner of my eyes. What would be the point? Now that I had the entire picture,
I
knew
I was nothing but a pawn in
his game, and I had stupidly fallen for it. The guy was like poison. Getting
near him was the last thing I wanted. I had fallen for the wrong person, even
opened my heart to him. The realization of my stupidity hurt me more than
anything.

Sylvie hugged me as more tears streamed down my face. “Are
you going to expose him for the rat he is?”

Smiling bitterly, I shook my head. “And how would I do that?
No, I’ll do something else. I’ll break up with him in a way he’ll never forget.”

Jett might have broken my trust in him, and probably in all
other men in this world, but he didn’t yet get what he wanted, which was
Alessandro’s estate. He might usually win, but not this time. Alessandro
Lucazzone wouldn’t sell; I’d make sure of that.

“Just be careful,” Sylvie said, hugging me tight. “Guys like
him always get far, but not without gathering a few skeletons in their
closets.”

“Thank you.” I placed a soft kiss on Sylvie’s cheek.

“For what?”

“For being honest. If you didn’t tell me, if you didn’t make
me aware of it, who knows whether I would have seen through his lies.” I shook
my head as I remembered how much I had wanted this man. I winced at the pang of
pain rocking my chest, right where my heart was. It shouldn’t have hit me so
hard, but it did. Maybe because he was the first person I trusted after what
happened to Jenna. Maybe because I thought if we shared our life stories, the
good and the ugly, we might indeed be kindred spirits. Maybe because I thought
he knew me and liked me for who I was, rather than for who I pretended to be.

I needed to get away from here. Leave him and the pain
behind. Forget everything that happened.

Forget him.

I jumped up from the couch, pulling Sylvie with me. “Come
on. We need to pack.”