Chocolate and Italian Wine (Music and Mayhem Book 1) (25 page)

BOOK: Chocolate and Italian Wine (Music and Mayhem Book 1)
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“Yeah,” he said, coming close and handing it over to her. Paolo narrowed his eyes on Wolfe and then the cellphone.

              As they watched the video, no one spoke. When it was finished, Paolo handed it back, breaking the silence. “I’m sorry, about this babe,” he said to Karisma.

                  At this point, Karisma’s curiosity had turned to rage. “You had a wedding date set? What… have you done?” She tried to talk at a respectable volume, but it was hard.

“Kari—”

“She’s wearing a wedding gown. She looks
insane.
” She frowned at him in disgust.

              Paolo looked her in the eye and spoke with restraint. “Let me deal with Maria Elena.”     

“What the hell, Paolo?”   

Armando intervened. “Let’s take this back to my office,” he said calmly. 

“No, Mando, we’re headed back. I’ll call you from home.” He tried to take Kari’s hand. She pulled away from him.

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” she hissed.

“Are you just going to believe everything she said? A total
stranger? She’s sick.”

“Kari,” Armando interjected, “It will be a good idea to go back with Paolo. If the press sees you leave separately, they will think Maria Elena’s rants are true.”

She looked at the priest, and then at Paolo. Wolfe stepped in. “Let’s go, Boss Lady.”

She exhaled. “No Wolfe, Armando’s right. Follow us back,” she told him.

They left quickly, with Wolfe and the other men hired to guard “Pari” going into full protection mode. The media shouted out the questions as the two made their way to the car.

Voices carried from every direction. “
Paolo, is it true that you chose Karisma over your fidanzata and child?” “Why were you and Karisma at the church today?” “Karisma, did you come between Paolo and his family?” “Is Maria Elena unstable?”
                   The flashing lights of the cameras were unrelenting. Karisma attempted to fend off the sparks with an extended hand. Paolo and Wolfe hurried her to the Maserati where two of his men were waiting with the passenger side door open. A foolish paparazzo made the mistake of attempting to jump into the car as Karisma quickly approached and was swiftly taken to the ground by one of Paolo’s enforcers. When she finally reached the car, Karisma’s door was promptly closed with her safely inside of it. Paolo seemed to be yelling something in Italian at another overzealous cameraman. Two large enforcers stood over the guy in such an intimidating manner, one moving his hand in a gesture that would suggest he had a weapon. The man finally backed down and came to his senses. Paolo yanked the car door open and Karisma said, “This is great. Just fucking great!” They both eyed the news vans as he started the engine and gunned the motor.

 

                                                        ***

                  

Karla had one too many drinks, both to pass the time and hopefully make her forget how much she loathed flying. The long, nonstop flight had been taxing on her frayed nerves. She and her new friend Derek were having a grand time, though. The guy wasn’t so bad, after all. Well, she didn’t mind his stares and constant questions any longer.

“Now I know who you look like,” he said with an exaggerated slur.   

“Who?” she asked loudly, sipping her gin and coke through a small thin straw.   

“You look like Karisma Montgomery. Anybody ever tell you that?”     

“You think so?” she asked with a sly smile.   

“Oh, yeah, you look like her a lot,” he said.     

She motioned for him to move in closer. “If I let you in on a secret, you promise not to tell?” she giggled.      

“Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye,” he said, crossing his heart.    

“We’re sisters,” she said conspiratorially.

“No! You’re lying,” he said to her.   

She shook her head, smiling. “Nope, it’s true. Me and Karisma. Same mother, same father. Sisters.”

“I’ll be damned,” Derek said. 

“Shh. Our secret,” she reminded him.     

“Of course, nobody will hear it from me,” he insisted. “Hey, you hear about the mess going on with the woman saying she’s pregnant with Paolo Montovani’s kid, and your sister stealing him away?”   

“I saw that shit. But, if it’s true, it wouldn’t be the first time my big sister, Miss Vain and Beautiful, hooked her claws into somebody else’s man,” she said, shaking her head and sipping the drink with her pinky in the air.

“Say what? You’re kidding,” he commented, excited and interested.

“Not saying she did it this time, though, but she’s done it before.” She sat the drink down, sitting back and crossing her legs.   

“Who’d she do it to before?” he asked, admiring her smooth brown legs.

              “Me, with Alleged.”

“The rapper?”

“Yeah. He was mine first.” 

She sat back and her eyes closed, out cold.

“Damn,” Derek muttered. He took out his laptop and powered it up, typing out all the juicy details he’d just learned. He had no time to spare if he wanted to get the scoop out there first.

 

 

 

22

 

“We’ll talk more about this inside, Kari,” Paolo said, exasperated, taking hold of the door handle to open it. They had just pulled into the driveway of the Montovani estate. It had been a long, frustrating ride back there.

“I already told you, we’re done talking, Paolo,” Kari bristled.

“And I told 
you
 that she lied. Can’t you see how crazy she is?” he chastised, settling back in and turning to her, wearing a frown on his handsome face.

“She lied on me, that’s for 
damned
 sure, but the jury’s still out on whether or not she lied on you. And yeah, the bitch is bat shit crazy.”

“What the fuck do you mean, the jury’s still out on whether or not she lied on me?” he demanded.

“I mean, I’m on Paolo overload right now! I’m dealing with way too much Paolo shit!” she screamed.

“Dammit! I understand that you’re pissed, I’m fucking pissed, too, but you need to calm the hell down,” he said in an authoritative voice, raising his chin and looking down his nose on her.


You
 calm the hell down. That funky bitch stalks me on fucking Twitter, then comes to my concert to make a scene, gets in front of the cameras in a damned wedding dress and makes
me
look like a home wrecker!”

He grabbed her wrist. “I told you that she isn’t pregnant. I haven’t touched her in a very
long 
time,” he hissed.

She peeled his fingers off her wrist. “Let go! You weren’t just engaged, you had a wedding planned!”  He let her go. They stared at one another. She flung the door open and sprang from the car. He jumped out on the other side, walking fast to keep up with her march. He caught up quickly, as his long legs gave him an advantage. Reaching out to grab her by the arm, she was able to avoid his attempts to stop her.  

“Kari, stop it,” he said as she reached the doorway. Two of Raffaelo’s men were in front protecting the home when she shot up to the front door. One of the men opened it for her and she stormed in, with Paolo right behind her. He took her by her arm. “You’re overreacting. She’s a nutcase, baby,” he spoke in a tone that was low, but commanding.

“She’s nuts, I’m overreacting, and what are you,
Don
Montovani? Forgive me, honey, I don’t know how this,” she said, twirling her finger in the air, “works.”

One of his men stepped to them and said, “Boss, your father is expecting you in his office.”

Paolo glared at Kari and said, “Go up and wait for me. Hopefully you will have calmed down by the time I’m done. I won’t be long.”

              “Umm huh,” she said, shooting him deadly daggers and then hurrying up the stairs without looking back.

He watched her go up the stairs as though she were some exotic alien. She had been yelling since they left the church. He smoothed his black hair back with his hand and let out a deep breath as he took a minute to regain his composure.
Fuck.
 He headed to the lion’s den.

 

                                                               ***

   

“Is she really pregnant?” Cristina asked Raffaelo. 

“How the hell should I know, Cristina? What I do know is that Maria Elena threw a public tantrum and that the Bianchis intended to bring our family shame with this disclosure. She was wearing her wedding gown! Santa Maria!”

“You don’t just think it was a publicity ploy?”

He shook his head. “Vittore and his family crossed yet another line today. Now his crazy daughter is having daily press conferences. They’ve brought the media to his doorsteps, as well as ours, and that will not be tolerated.”

“After all these years it’s a shame things have turned out this way. But if they think public humiliation is the way to get what they want, they’ve guaranteed that our son won’t go back to the girl. You know how he is.” She shook her head and smiled at the thought of their rebellious Paolo.

“You’re right. The only way he would return to her now is if she were truly carrying his child. But with him being so involved with the Montgomery girl, chances of that even happening are slim.”

“You’ve been friends with Vittore for so long. Why don’t you try talking to him about this, Raffaelo? Father to father.”

“About what, Cristina? This ‘maybe’ pregnancy? No, sweetheart. The time for reasoning with Vittore has passed. He’s as unreasonable as his spoiled child.” He petted her underneath the chin. “Va bene, amore mio,” he assured her.

Daniel and Davit walked into the room with Antonio Russo and Raffaelo’s head of security, Vincenzo Torre. Cristina took her leave, kissing her twin sons on the way out the door. “Has anyone heard from Paolo?” Raffaelo asked.

“He just got here, Pop,” Davit said.

“I’ve placed a call to Maria Elena. She swears that she’s pregnant with Paolo’s child,” Daniel said.

“That’s not what I wanted to hear. I’m suspicious of the timing. He breaks the engagement, she’s denied access to him last night and then she puts on a big white wedding gown and tells the world she’s expecting a Montovani heir. I smell a lie intended to embarrass and humiliate Paolo and our family. This is unacceptable,” Raffaelo said, sitting at his desk, light filtering into the expansive den. “Are we ready for tomorrow?”

“We’re ready, Papa; everything’s in place,” Daniel said. 

“Raffaelo, we’ve had to modify our plans due to the paparazzi camped out in front of the Bianchi estate,” Antonio Russo said.

Raffaelo looked at him and nodded. “Yes, another location would be best under the circumstances.”

Just then, Paolo entered the room. All eyes were on him as he strolled in, looking totally unruffled. “Before anyone asks again, as I’ve said before, she’s lying. But what I want to know is why she wasn’t escorted off the premises of the arena before she could talk to the press? I thought you were supposed to get rid of her,” he said to Vincenzo.

“We walked them all out, Paolo,” Vincenzo answered.

“Did you watch them get into their cars and leave?” he asked, holding the other man’s gaze.

“No. We only took them to the stadium doors. We left them walking away,” Vincenzo admitted.

“So you had no idea whether they left or not. Do you see my point?” Paolo walked near his father, who studied him.

“The mistake was mine, boss. I should have stayed with them until they left the premises,” Vincenzo acknowledged.

“Paolo, the intent was to make you look bad and embarrass the family. She’d have called them to her home to do it if she’d had to. That she made the announcement at your songbird’s concert was the icing on the cake for her,” Raffaelo said.

Paolo paced the room and he could sense how all eyes were on him. He was trying to rein in his temper, and they were waiting for him to make a decision. Maria Elena was nothing more than a spoiled, nasty bitch.

“Well, we’ll take care of her father tomorrow,” Daniel said. “She can cry over that.”

“I want her there,” Paolo said. “I want her to see.” He looked at his father, who was still watching him. Raffaelo nodded.

“You shouldn’t be there, you know that,” Raffaelo said to him.

“I’ll set up a meeting with her and her family. I’d like to talk about…my options,” he said, emphasizing the last two words.

Again, Raffaelo nodded at his son. “Both her parents need to be there. Don Vittore and her bitch of a mother, too,” Paolo said, steely eyed. “We take care of our Bianchi problem tomorrow.”

Davit said, “It can’t be you, Paolo.”

“It won’t be. We’ll go to San Roberto. To the mayor’s restaurant. I won’t be seen by the paparazzi going anywhere near their home. Davit, set it up.” He finally sat down.

“Got it. Va bene,” Davit said, bobbing his head.

“Prego,” Paolo said and then fixed his gaze upon Daniel.

Daniel motioned to him. “We do it together. Like always,” Daniel said. There was a knock to the door. 

“Yes,” Raffaelo answered. One of his men stuck his head in the doorway and said, “Paolo, Miss Montgomery’s leaving.”

“Shit!” he said, jaw tensed, as he headed out the door.

“She’s pissed,” Daniel said, crossing his leg at the ankle. “They were arguing when they got here.”

“Hmm. Very interesting. Maybe this Maria Elena fiasco serves a constructive purpose after all,” Raffaelo said.

“He’s crazy about her, Pop; I thought you liked her,” Davit said, making a face.

“I like her. Maria Elena’s plan could only work because of who Karisma is. She’s so famous, everyone’s invested in her life. We can’t afford that. Why did they go to the church this afternoon, Davit?” he asked.

“She needed to talk to Mando about an issue she’s having,” Davit said, avoiding his father’s eyes.

“The shooting?” he asked casually, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

Both Davit and Daniel looked at their father in silent surprise.

“Sons,” he said. “Never forget. I know everything.”

 

                                            ***

                  

Karisma was about to get into the back seat of the rented Mercedes when she saw Paolo crossing the driveway, heading her way. “Where are you going?” he asked, looking her directly in the eyes, momentarily distracted by her beauty. She took his breath away, she always did.

“To the airport. Please thank your family for their kindness and hospitality, but in light of the fact that you probably need to get dressed for your wedding, I should probably leave. I’m going to stay at the hotel in Rome with the rest of the group. The concert’s tomorrow night and I need to quit playing house and get back to work,” she said with biting sarcasm, meeting his stare with one of her own.

“Come on, Kari,” he said reaching out to touch her arm.

“What? Your bride’s already in her gown and waiting for you in the parking lot.”

He shook his head, smirking. “You really going to do this?” he asked, moving in on her.

“Do what? Get back to work and my career? Yes, I am doing that.”

“I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay here and talk to me…”

“The problem is that you want to talk and want everyone to listen, boss man, and that isn’t going to cut it with me. We talked enough on the way back here.”

“Kari, I talked, you yelled. I’m not sure you heard a word I said,” he replied, his arm at rest on the car door.

“I heard everything you said. But I need a minute. Right now, I’m too hurt and angry to stay.”

“Kari…”

She put her finger up and stated, “Don’t ask me to. I’ve been through this kind of thing before, Paolo. You told me you’d fixed your Maria Elena problem, but you didn’t. You were really going to marry her! She says she’s two months pregnant. We’ve been seeing each other a little over two months, right? You do the math and tell me what you come up with,” she said. Then she went into the open door and slid into the back seat.

Wolfe, who had been standing by the car door, leaned against the Mercedes and folded his arms across his chest. Paolo squatted in the doorway to talk to her. “I broke off the engagement weeks ago, Kari, just like I said I would. There’s no way she’s pregnant by me.”

She stared into his blue ocean, breaking eye contact lest she drown. She shook her head. Exhaling, she said, “You lie so easily. That scares me. I can’t even look at you right now. Has
everything
been a lie?”

They stared into one another’s eyes for what seemed like the longest time. And for Paolo, seeing the hurt in her liquid brown eyes was like looking right into her heart. He loved Kari with every fiber of his being. He would never be the cause of that look again. “What do you think? You think it’s all been a lie? Karisma, I love you…so much. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’ve never had to be accountable to anyone for my actions before. This is new to me.”

She sat silently looking at him. He ran a finger down her arm and she swallowed, turning away from him. Looking out the window, she turned back to him when he whispered her name. “Kari, you’re my dream come true, sweetheart. I’m not perfect. I’m a dangerous, fucked up guy. That probably scares you, too. I should have told you everything. But you told me you love me, and I believe you. Don’t take your love away from me. I need you. You make me better than I am.”

She struggled to stop any more tears from escaping. She wanted to throw her arms around him, granting the forgiveness he desired, but she wouldn’t.

He smiled a small smile. “I love you, Karisma.”

“I love you, too, Paolo, but I’m leaving,” she said, wiping the tears off her cheeks.

“Okay,” he said, voice low, as he swiped at a renegade droplet. “But you have to know by now, that I’ll follow you wherever you go.”

She looked at him and raised a brow. “To the ends of the earth?” she asked with sarcasm in her voice.

“If that’s where you’re going,” he said, meaning every word.

“Yeah, well, today, I’m only going as far as Rome,” she murmured down to him.

“Then so am I,” he said softly, rubbing her smooth leg, loving the feel of its velvety softness beneath his strong hand.

BOOK: Chocolate and Italian Wine (Music and Mayhem Book 1)
13.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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