His Discarded Bride: Lied to from birth. Manipulated into marriage. Does love stand a chance? (16 page)

After their meal ended Leilani retired to the living room to watch television. The programs were all in Italian, which was unfortunate but would assist her learning. Renato headed into his office, his day not complete. She had already worked out those late nights working would be a norm for him. The fact that he stopped to eat with her was a definite effort on his part, one of the house staff had mentioned that previously he always ate at his desk in his office.

She stood up and poured herself a small glass of dessert wine, a botrytis that had been sitting at the back of the cabinet. Admiring the amber liquid she walked back to the lounge. Her jaw dropped, and the glass slipped to the tiles before she made it back to her seat. Leilani didn’t need to be bilingual to understand the scenes in front of her on the screen.

The entertainment news had footage of Camilla walking out of Renato’s apartment in Rome earlier this morning. She looked as though she’d just stepped out of bed. Only half-decent pulling up the straps on her dress and carrying her heels and purse in her hands as she raced down the path to her car. There was a wedding photo of Renato and Leilani dramatically enlarged on the screen and then shown tearing down the centre to split them up. It was obvious in any language what was happening.

That lying so and so telling her that nothing had been going on between them when obviously it had; Camilla had warned her and here was the evidence. How could he, before coming home to her he had stopped first at the apartment. Her heart sank at what a fool she’d been to believe in him.

Renato raced into the living room catching the tail end of the viewing. “It’s not what you think,” he looked her straight in the eye and grabbed a hold of her shoulders. 

“Let go of me this instance,” she demanded a tad on the hysterical side. “You are a cheat and a liar Renato Favalli and not even a week has passed since our vows,” she escalated.

“Sit down,” he ordered. He pulled out his phone and called Camilla, “What game are you playing,” he asked in a lethally low voice.

Leilani couldn’t hear the words, but she heard Camilla’s voice rapidly talking in Italian. Renato switched to Italian and shortly terminated the call.

“The press have taken this situation out of context. Leilani, please, look at me. The press are masters of sensationalising stories. Camila was at the apartment to check on any business mail left there, and that is all. She was seen leaving the apartment, and she stated the paparazzi took her by surprise,” he rationalised.

“You missed the first part of the show Renato. The part where it looked like she was still dressing, rumpled and with her shoes in her hands. How do you explain that?” she felt irrational. She wanted to call him names, but she knew it wouldn’t help.

Swearing in Italian Renato picked up the phone. “I’m going to call Camilla, and I want you to hear everything,” she nodded her head, this should be interesting. Camilla answered the phone on the first ring. “Camilla, I have you on loud speaker and Leilani is with me. I want you to explain what happened because we have just seen the entire footage of you coming out of the apartment,” he said.

“Renato, are you sure you want me to say the truth or,” she paused suggestively.

“The truth Camilla, no games,” he demanded.

“Well in that case I’m surprised you didn’t just admit to it to her yourself but if you prefer me to say it, then I will. Leilani you fool before he came home to you today Renato, and I made a little detour to the apartment. Do I need to be more explicit or do you get the idea?” she laughed.

Renato yelled into the phone more ferocious with anger than she’d ever seen anyone, “You lie,” he roared swearing at her. Terminating the call he called Savino.  “Disable Camilla’s access and revoke her company belongings.” Finally, he faced Leilani.

There was no way she would put up with this. The marriage needed to end.

CHAPTER sixteen

Leilani sipped on her liqueur and waited for his response.

“You can stay here for a few days, but you will need to return home at some point,” he stated.

“By home I’m hoping you mean Australia,” she knew he meant by her husband’s side but she asked the question regardless.

“Renato is a decent man, you could do a lot worse,” he remonstrated. “Why are you empowering these news mongers? Do you know for a fact that Renato has been unfaithful to you?” he put forth.

“Well yes of course I do, I wouldn’t be here otherwise,” she maintained.

“He admitted that he slept with the woman?” Vittorio persisted.

“No, of course not, what man would. He denied it all, but I know it happened. Camilla called me and told me that she had gone to London with Renato and that she had been sleeping with him and then just a couple of days later she was seen coming out of his apartment. You can’t get any guiltier than that?” she asked.

Vittorio raised his grey brows; wiry with age, “Is that so?” he prodded.

“Oh for goodness sake, if you have something to say then just say it please,” she was exasperated. Vittorio had welcomed her in when she arrived unannounced on his doorstep, offering her refuge and an ear to listen to her woes. It was becoming apparent that he was not going to side with her simple because she wanted an ally.

“There are always two sides to a story as I’m sure you know. If I were you I’d choose to pay more attention to the words of your husband rather than those of the press or a scorned woman,” he advised.

Dropping her head into her hands, she kneaded her forehead with the joints of her fingers. “I just want to leave him, there is no trust between us,” she was exhausted feeling as though all of her past and present issues had joined forces to deplete her emotional reserves.

Vittorio stood up and took her glass from her. “I’ve had the spare room made up for you. Go lie down, you will be able to think better after you’ve rested,” he urged.

The idea of a nap was welcome. She wasn’t one to take a day sleep, but she felt tired and in need of one right now. “You won’t make me go straight back to him will you,” she felt like a child asking the question, but she dreaded any further confrontation. Leilani had left Renato in a huff telling him she needed time to clear her head, and she walked down to the village on her own where she bumped into one of Renato’s grounds keepers. She asked him to take her into Benevento and nervously he’d agreed. The poor man probably felt torn between pity for her and fear of his employer. No doubt everyone knew of her public shame, her sham of a marriage and inability to keep her husband satisfied for more than a week.

She then took a train from Benevento into Rome and found her way to Vittorio. He was the only refuge she had.

“Go rest, we will sort things out when you wake up,” he ended the conversation and sent her to her room.

The curtains were drawn, the room dark and cool, and the bed very inviting with the cover turned down in anticipation of her arrival. She stripped down to her underwear and crawled between the sheets, sleep claiming her only moments after her head hit the pillow.

She felt a hand running through her hair, massaging her scalp and trailing sensitively over her face. It was soothing and sensual, and she leaned towards the source of such pleasure searching for more. Renato’s mouth on hers brought her quickly to reality, and she scurried from him, scooting to the middle of the bed. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, upset that Vittorio had betrayed her so soon.

“Get dressed and meet me in the living room,” he directed rising to his feet.

“I have nothing to say to you,” but her words were lost as he firmly shut the door behind him.

She huffed but complied and met him as instructed. Vittorio had conveniently disappeared. Renato stood erect by the window waiting for her. He took her hand and walked towards the front door. “Where are we going? I’d rather stay here if you don’t mind,” she asserted.

“That's a shame. We are going downstairs to our apartment,” he insisted.

It was the first time he’d used the word ours. It wasn’t lost on her. However, it was too little too late. There was no we or ours in their relationship there was just a big fat, his. Everything was his, and if he thought he could include her as part of his property well, he had another thing coming. She would not allow him to treat her so intolerably. His threats of making her life a misery if she didn’t stay married to him were wasted. His life was already shaping up miserably she doubted he could make it any worse.

They entered the apartment and sat down at the kitchen table where Renato brought in an assortment of staff to testify to his innocence. They all claimed that Renato had not been there that morning. “Renato, your staff, are on your payroll. While I don’t want to call anyone an outright liar, I know they are all going to say whatever you tell them to,” she stated the obvious.

“I thought you might say so which is why I have Savino coming over with indisputable facts for you.” he was stony faced and she would hazard a guess that he rarely had his integrity challenged.

Savino arrived and sat at the table with a laptop open to prove his point. “I’m not sure if you understand much about GPS technology,” he started.

“I know a little,” she replied.

“Good. In that case, you’ll be aware that most new cars have GPS tracking devices installed. They not only assist you to your chosen destination by pinpointing your location, but they can be used to track your speed, tire pressure and fuel consumption amongst other things,” he continued.

Leilani hadn’t realised the functionality was for more than a directional assistant and wondered what this all had to do with proving Renato’s supposed innocence.

“Your husband’s limited edition Maserati GranCabrio comes with an active GPS system,” he paused and brought the laptop closer.

Leilani looked blankly waiting to try to make sense of the information given to her while Renato continued to sit silently watching her. His eyes focused on her like a jungle cat on its prey, moments before capture.

“Take a look at this,” Savino instructed. “This report is a log of the Maserati’s trips, and it clearly shows the times, routes and even the speeds the vehicle was traveling,” he stated. “If you notice the log shows that the car went from the airport straight to Pontelandolo without detour,” pausing to see if she was following him then brought up another report. “Now this is a log for the aircraft he was traveling in, it indicates his flight was direct from London to Rome. Both reports combined demonstrate that Renato went straight from the airport to you,” he presented the facts.

“I’ll see you to the door,” Renato headed for the front door leaving his chief of security to follow him.

Savino picked up his belongings and on the way out quietly advocated for his boss, “Renato is an honourable man. You shouldn’t be so quick to believe the media B.S.,” he tipped his head and exited the room.

Leilani had been so sure, but it was obvious now that her assurances were baseless. She hadn’t shown her husband a moment of trust, eager to believe the discrediting information without hesitation. Sorry wouldn’t cut it, but she didn’t know what else she could do or say.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered as soon as he walked into the room.

He just raised his hand to prevent her from saying anything further. “I can’t expect your trust, that much is obvious,” he interjected. “However, this is the last time I will take these measures to prove my innocence. This marriage is final; I will not issue you a divorce or let you leave. I would, however, prefer to have as normal a relationship as possible,” he bit out.

“I don’t know what to say. I wanted that too,” she apologized.

“You say that but at the first sign of adversity you ran,” he accused.

“There’s nothing I can say to right this,” she admitted. “I wish we could rewind and do it again,” hindsight was always a wonderful clarifier.

“Then let’s do just that. I don’t want to spend our time bickering,” he stood up, and she took his lead, walking into each other’s arms they made amends in the best way they knew. His kisses removed any lingering speckles of doubt. He lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his slim waist gripping him while his long strides took them into their room. He lowered her long enough to remove her ocean green, silk and lace bikini bottoms from under her skirt. In one sweeping motion, he relieved himself of his pants and undergarment. Semi-naked, he lifted her back into his arms and guided her slowly over the tip of his swollen shaft.

Leilani clamped her legs around him, gripped his broad shoulders and deepened their kiss. His strength unwavering he raised and lowered her in a steady motion while never removing his mouth from hers. The lead to a mutual crescendo was almost torturous in its intensity. They both groaned aloud as their bodies heated and convulsed.

Renato held onto Leilani until their breathing quietened, and a regular pace resumed. Lowering her gently, he ran a hand through his hair. “You are going to think I have no finesse at all in the bedroom,” he said half smiling.

“I think you are an incredible lover,” she said with sincerity.

“Yes, but it’s not my intention to keep taking you with little to no foreplay. On too many occasions I’ve already taken you as though my only desire is my climax,” he self-loathed. “When we make love it feels so good, whether I ejaculate or not I couldn’t care less as long as I bring you pleasure,” he meant the words. He’d never been a selfish lover yet the goal post was always there. With his wife, her pleasure intensified his feelings, unlike anyone he’d ever been with before, those women who were now faceless to him.

He didn’t like to admit it, but her lack of trust in him had done more than hurt his pride. Her opinion of him mattered. Feelings for his surprising little butterfly were emerging, and he wasn’t ready to face the possibility of what that meant. He’d been subject to Vittorio’s game, giving in and agreeing to marry the man’s daughter, but Renato executed things in his way. Renato gained control offering Leilani the option of friendship within the bounds of their marriage to make it bearable for the lifetime commitment they were entering, and it seemed that she had no issues with this. Leilani barely trusted him. It was Renato that was developing an emotional tie, and he’d sever it quickly before she realised she was in the power seat. He’d never given his heart to another, and she would be no exception.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to control yourself though,” she stated. “When you take me like that it’s primal, instinctual and to know that you are just moved by feeling it turns me on. It makes me feel empowered, and I like that feeling a lot,” she admitted smiling.

“Is that just so,” he slapped her bare bottom playfully, with just enough of a sting that she yelped in surprise before he took her possessively into the circle of his arms. “Who is empowered now hmm.” He held her tightly lifting her feet off the ground before pinning her to the wall.  Renato slid south and did with his mouth what he should have done from the start of their lovemaking. 

Leilani sat at the edge of the pool, kicking her feet gently in the refreshing water. With her sunnies on and a cute turquoise and white geometrically designed bikini flattering her growing tan, she indulged in reading her long-time favourite book, Gone with the Wind on her e-reader. Distractedly she kept thinking of her husband. The past couple of weeks had been perfect. They’d managed to get past the issue of Camilla and thank goodness she no longer had to worry about the woman having anything to do with her or Renato.

Their lovemaking was a highlight of each morning and night and sometimes at other times of the day. His appetite quite insatiable but his control was tighter than ever. He hadn’t taken her in a heated moment since the day of the argument about his assistant. Not that she had anything to complain about he was utterly incredible, he knew just how to torture, tease and bring her to heights that she had no chance of ever achieving on her own.

It’s just that she wished she had the spontaneous Renato from time to time; she was still to figure out how to elicit that from him again. Realising that the book was futile, she switched off her reader. Leilani swung her feet onto the dry ground and walked to the sun lounger. Towelling off, she headed into the house. Renato was working from home today; maybe she would be able to tempt him into some naughty fun, and why not she thought to herself, her recent gym usage had made her more confident than ever. She would walk in with the towel on and do a little dance for him. She giggled to herself; it was time to take back that control and help Renato lose some of his.

She padded quietly down the hallway; she didn’t have music so she would have to hum even though she was fairly sure she was tone deaf she plucked up the courage to just go with it. She would wait just outside the door for a moment to ensure that he didn’t have someone in there with him. Her face flushed just thinking about the embarrassment of gyrating in front of someone other than her husband.

As she neared the door, she overheard Renato talking and hearing no response to his question she safely assumed he was on the phone. She debated herself on whether she should just saunter in and start a slow belly dancing motion while he was on the phone or wait for him to be completely free of distraction.