His Discarded Bride: Lied to from birth. Manipulated into marriage. Does love stand a chance? (7 page)

Renato had tried to work, but the anxiety riddled face of his fiancée kept appearing in front of him making it impossible to concentrate. He had no choice but to push her into this marriage forcefully and swiftly. Vittorio had little patience and Renato was equally eager to secure his ownership of the company. He was not a cruel man, and he had felt some remorse for Leilani. She didn’t understand his world, and she would quickly need to develop a thicker skin if she were to survive.

He walked over to the liqueur cabinet and poured himself a shot of limoncello. It went down smoothly generating warmth and leaving behind a subtle lemon aftertaste.  Renato just hoped that Camilla would get the job done well in the morning. Leilani would unfortunately not do in her current state. However, as classy and perfected as Camilla was he had doubts that she would be able to come back with Leilani anywhere near as presentable. It would surely take some small miracle.

Renato continued haphazardly with his work until the early hours of the morning at which point he finally relented and went to bed. He was a habitual early riser and waking up early enjoyed a few moments of solitude in the dining room. He could smell his breakfast being prepared and opened up the newspaper while he waited.

Sipping his coffee, he heard the click clack of heels on the polished tiles. Unusual as his houseguest did not wear heels, heaven knows why, maybe she was scared they’d make her the slightest bit appealing. She’d need more than a pair of stiletto’s for that to be the case. Being faithful to Leilani was not going to be easy. A discreetly open marriage would be the logical solution. However, she would have to wait until after the birth of their children before she would be allowed to take a lover. He would have no cause for doubt about the parentage of their children.

“Buongiorno Renato, why the frown so early in the morning?”

Glancing at his watch Renato ignored the question, “you are very early,” he raised a quizzical eyebrow and continued eating. Camilla was part of his staff so therefore did not warrant an invitation to join him.

“Well, if the situation is as dire as you mentioned we are going to need all the time we can get. She has transformation appointments starting from eight this morning. Where is our ugly duckling?”

Renato bristled at the derogatory summation of his fiancée. Although he may have shared the sentiments it was still by no means acceptable for anyone else to air similar thoughts. In a low, steely voice he once again reminded Camilla of her place.

“Oh for goodness sake Renato, I was only teasing and regardless even if she walked in here now she wouldn’t understand a word of what we were talking about.”

“That’s beside the point. As my wife, she is to be afforded respect at all times and remember even if she can’t hear the rest of the staff can. I will not have her made a laughing stock in her home.” He swiftly turned the topic to business and avoided giving any thought to why he suddenly felt the need to defend Leilani.

He noticed her hovering near the doorway and immediately felt exasperated. “Leilani, come take a seat,” his tone was harsher than he meant and she awkwardly pulled out a chair. “This is Camilla my, ah personal assistant,” he hesitated over her job description as he fully took in Leilani’s outfit. Some of the village grandmothers appeared more enticing than she did at this moment.

The two ladies greeted each other, and Renato stood to take his leave. “Ladies, I’ll leave you to it. Camilla, have her ready and presented to me an hour before the start of the ball. I’ll need time to brief my fiancée on some of the guests and expectations for the evening.” In a show of unity that he thought necessary he kissed his wife on the mouth and exited the room leaving his wife gaping and then blushing furiously.

Leilani’s nerves were stretched thin, and she was not getting any warm, friendly signs to appease her feelings from Camilla. As soon as she’d finished her breakfast Camilla frog-marched her to the car where she fired off instructions in Italian to the driver. “We have a busy day today if we are to make you presentable for the ball tonight. I have booked you in with the best hair and beauty technicians in Rome.”

“We are going to Rome?” Leilani felt her first sign of hope.

“Of course! Have you been to the village shops?” Camilla sniffed disdainfully. “They might be okay for the locals, but you are marrying a Favalli so of course the local beauty parlour is out of the question.

“Of course,” Leilani concurred even though she would have been perfectly happy to support the locals. To drive two hours just to get her hair done seemed quite outrageous. Since she was going to be stuck with the immaculate Camilla all day she attempted some small talk. “Have you worked for Renato a long time?”

“Renato and I have been working together for what seems like forever and we are very close. I’m not sure what he’d do without me. Not that he’d ever need to be without me, of course,” she smirked.

So much for small talk, if she wasn’t mistaken Camilla was staking a claim on her future husband. Instead of allowing idle chit chat Camilla whipped out her phone and stated that she needed to make a call to Renato and proceeded to converse in Italian ensuring her exclusion. Maybe it was just her overactive imagination and really what should she care. She didn’t even really like her future husband. He had railroaded into this marriage; however if she was going to see the marriage through then, she certainly wasn’t going to tolerate infidelity.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“You were supposed to stay with her the entire day Camilla. Where the hell is she?”

“Relax Renato. I left her in good hands. Surely your wife doesn’t need a babysitter?” Camilla had made the necessary arrangements and when Leilani insisted that Camilla need not stick around for the entire day, well Camilla saw no reason to argue the point. The woman was a dead bore, and any other task she had would be preferable to sticking around with Leilani.

“I will relax when my fiancée returns. For god’s sake, she is a foreigner in a strange country who has already been hounded by the media. What on earth possessed you to leave her side?” Renato paced the floor phone in hand. The one thing he hadn’t thought of was to give her a phone.

“Stop worrying the driver is with her. I’ll contact him and check on their whereabouts,” Camilla pulled out her phone and made contact with the driver. Camilla didn’t need to speak him for reassurance. A bit of light flirting with the driver and he had been putty in her hands. She’d asked him to contact her hourly with updates, and the poor eager fool had called her every forty-five minutes over eager with anticipation for some naughtiness that she definitely wouldn’t be committing.

“Well,” Renato barked impatiently.

“Just as I thought, they are approaching Pontelandolfo now. See I told you there was no need to worry. Come have a drink with me and relax a little before your guests start arriving. You seem so wound up,” she poured a shot of fine single malt Dalmore scotch over ice and handed it to Renato. Camilla had a reasonably good reason to suspect that his precious bride to be was unfaithful. If she were to confront Renato with the information, he would think she was catty. Besides the proof wasn’t concrete enough for Renato’s standards and possibly he wouldn’t considering this was surely a marriage of convenience. She would hold onto the information, after all knowledge of any Favalli scandal was definitely an opportunity.

Renato rubbed his temple and downed the drink. He needed space from Camilla and ordered her to go check on the catering and staff. Truthfully, he was furious with Camilla for leaving Leilani in Rome on her own. She was his future wife and he owed her his protection. His phone rang, and the doorbell peeled with the arrival of guests. “Pronto.”

“Ren, I’ve just heard from my man who was tailing your fiancée and driver today.”

Savino’s findings did not lighten Renato’s mood. He would need to put on his best performance tonight and then later he would ensure his wife understood some ground rules.

Leilani’s heart was racing faster as they neared the town of Pontelandolfo. What a day it had been. On top of all that she had been through she now had to face a crowd of strangers dolled up to the point of ridiculousness and unrecognizable she was sure to even her mother. By mid-morning she’d already suffered enough embarrassment to pluck up the courage and tell Camilla that she would be okay for the day with the schedule and a driver. Relief had visibly washed over the woman’s face and after a few quick phone calls Leilani was assured that she was being left, in good hands, to get her ready for the ball.

The first port of call had been to a very exclusive day spa where she had been subjected to waxing, scrubbing, massaging and all kinds of lotions. It was while she still had a red upper lip and eyebrows that she decided Camilla no longer needed to witness her complete humiliation. With the woman gone Leilani tried to relax. The beauticians simultaneously worked on a manicure and pedicure while she worked out a way to see Anselmo without a word of it getting back to Renato.

Leilani got into the car and was driven to a very upmarket clothing boutique. Grimacing she got out of the car, “my schedule states that I have a lunch break after this appointment,” she said to the driver.

“Si, I have instructions on which restaurant to take you to for lunch.”

“Oh,” she felt deflated. “On second thoughts,” she ran with her idea hoping the driver would buy it. “I don’t fancy taking lunch in a restaurant on my own. I mean I’m sure initially I was supposed to have lunch with Camilla but since she has left, I thought it might be nicer to got to a simple local cafe or restaurant.”

“Uh,” the driver looked hesitant.

Leilani seized the opportunity and did her best to issue a directive. “Please meet me here at two o’clock. That will be enough time for lunch and to get me to my next appointment on time.” Leilani whirled around quickly and scurried into the shop before the driver could reject the plan.

Not much of a shopper Leilani found the experience draining. The owner of the boutique, Rita, was a friend of the Favalli family. She was petite, and Leilani would be surprised if she were five feet tall heeled. What she lacked in stature, she made up for in bite. Looking down her uplifted nose she sized Leilani up and marched her into the dressing room, and a room it was not some cramped curtained cubicle. Surprisingly under the ministrations of the woman Leilani found she was trying on clothes that not only fit but flattered.

“I thought I was supposed to be buying a dress for the ball tonight. These clothes are lovely, but I’m not sure that they are suitable for this evening.”

Rita stopped and almost laughed. “My dear, the ball dresses will be arriving here shortly for you to choose. Firstly we are working on your everyday wardrobe. As a Favalli, it will no longer do for you to be wandering the streets, looking like you need a handout.” With that biting assessment, she turned to add more items to the growing pile that Leilani was expected to try on.

Glancing at the time, she tried the rest of the clothes on in double time. Then came the ball gowns and Leilani truly felt overwhelmed amongst the sea of fabric, lace, feathers and sequins. She spotted a pale blue ruffled gown and reached for it, receiving a slap for her efforts.

“Not that one, the dress has far too much volume. You will look like a tea cosy,” admonished Rita.  Instead, an alluring Duchess satin gown was presented to her. The sweetheart cut daringly reached down towards her belly button. The material nipped together between her breasts, again an inch or so below and then one final time. A slivered braid of pale skin appeared between the crushed diamanté jewel encrusted bodice. The material fit snuggly, inching her waist and tummy in and then falling in twisted drapes. It was adorned with a light sprinkling of pearls and crystals down to the floor.

“I don’t feel comfortable wearing this,” Leilani attempted to unhook the fastenings.

“Nonsense, with your hair and make-up done you will find this dress more than adequate. I suggest you eat a light lunch and pick sparingly during the evening. You will wear this dress for your fiancé’s pleasure and not your comforts.”

If Leilani had misgivings about turning up in such a provocative dress, there was scant time to dwell on it. Rita whisked her out the store and urged her on with her schedule. If Leilani were to see Anselmo then she would have to skip lunch, there was no time for both, and he was her priority. The items at the store would all be taken care of, and the ballgown would be at the beauty salon waiting for her to wear after her hair and makeup were complete.

She raced up to the familiar building, entered and came out an hour later with a smile on her face. She knew he wouldn’t let her down, had a strong sense of it the moment she met him. He had a dependable aura about him and for the first time in her life she felt that she was able to be truly honest about whom she was. Even though she was about to marry Renato she wouldn’t let that get in the way. She deserved to find happiness. With hope blossoming, she raced back to meet the driver. Hopefully, he wouldn’t get too suspicious as she was running just a little late, and she still had shoes, hair and make-up to go. This day felt like it would never end.

The room was filling up with guests, and his patience was wearing thin. He always found these kinds of events tedious and hoped that with training his wife to be would be able to work alongside him and share some of the load. He knew that she would probably never be that kind of woman. To know how to deal with the people he consorted with, she had to have been brought up in its circle. Businessmen, wanting his buy-in, their wives wanting to relieve their boredom with him, not to mention the many others who were all looking for their piece of success by riding on his shirt tail.

He was not above helping others in need. He just felt strongly against freeloaders who weren’t willing to work to get to the top.

“Um, Renato, sorry I’m late,” he heard the whisper, her uncertainty and he turned his eyes towards her. He could not connect that this goddess in front of him was his fiancée. His eyes trailed up a gown fit for a queen in royal blue, dusted with jewels and pearls. That waist, it was tiny, a waist made to fit in the span of his hands. Good god, her pale skin was visible in a snaking pattern from her stomach to her breasts, and those breasts, he couldn’t figure out why she had been hiding those luscious swells. He wanted to reach forward and unclasp them, let them spill free.

Her hair was swept up revealing her slender neck and ears. Shiny blonde curls protruded from her swept up style, and he wanted to release them to feel if they were as soft as they looked. Her face though was the most surprising. Make-up was subtle but perfect. Her lips glistened rosy and dewy and her eyes, those grey-blue eyes were bluer than usual framed perfectly with long thick lashes. Renato was not one to do a double take but in this instance, “Leilani?”

“Yes,” she said nervously.

He wanted to tell her that she looked sensational. He wanted to put her at ease. The news from Savino stopped him in his tracks. So she scrubbed up better than he anticipated. That didn’t change a thing. He still needed an obedient, faithful wife.

“You look good. Come with me,” and he led the way back to the main house and his office. “Here, put these on, they will suit the dress.”

Leilani opened up the jewellery box and found a pair of diamond and pearl earrings that indeed even to her untrained eye matched the ball gown perfectly. Nervously she put them on while he stood glaring at her. He briefed her on the guests of importance and advised that she should put on her best performance. “For one I want you to stop looking at me like I’m your executor. You are to be my wife; surely you can feign an adoring glance now and then?”

“You don’t need to keep reminding me that I’m to be your wife. How could I possibly forget with you shoving it down my throat the way that you do. I’m nothing more than a chess piece to be moved around in whatever direction you see fit. You treat me like this then you expect me to cast adoring looks your way?”

“Looks like this transformation gave you a confidence boost after all. Just remember that there are rules Leilani, and I won’t be made a fool of.”

“What are you talking about now? If you have something to say then just say it.”

“If you are thinking of entering this marriage with a lover in tow you are mistaken. I will have a loyal, faithful wife, are we clear?” he all but growled.

Leilani looked at his face. He was dead serious. Who on earth did he think she would be having an affair with and what a laugh, “You are worried about me being unfaithful? What about you? Is it too much for me to expect my husband also to be monogamous?”

Renato clamped his lips shut and gritted, “We’ll discuss this later. Right now we have guests that require our attention. Just ensure you remember to direct your flirting towards me and the night might even turn out to be half pleasant,” he took her hand and led her back out to the makeshift ballroom.

She should have been impressed with the portable building erected on the land in the space of a day. While she was getting transformed, it seemed a team of workers had created some miracles of their own. Under normal circumstances, she might have asked how it was possible and take the time to admire the room and all the beautiful people in attendance. It wasn’t normal circumstances. Leilani’s hand was imprisoned in Renato’s steely grip. He pushed her into introductions with countless men whose eyes never rose past her chest and stunning women without warmth or friendliness in their eyes unless of course they were gazing at her fiancé. She saw it all, the batting eyelashes, the demure looks, the outright staring.

Some of the women were bold and brazen in a way she could never hope to be. She noticed it all. The light touches on his arm, the firm grips and the kisses on the cheek that landed awfully close to his lips. Throughout the evening, his grip kept her hand in his possession, and she slowly grew comfortable with the steady pressure and the warmth they emanated. She doubted she could get used to the excited frissons of the excitement occurring every time he stroked his thumb across the inside of her wrist. She was baffled by her physical reaction. Renato could never provide the type of love she desired from a relationship. He was cold and calculated and had not one shred of love or desire for her. This hand holding was purely for show, and she had better get a grip. She thought of Anselmo and their earlier discussion. Renato was a means to an end. She knew that now and as ruthlessly as he was using her she would do the same. Leilani would play her part and work out a way to progress her plan.

Renato wanted the night to be over. He no longer wanted to play host in fact he would be happy if he could avoid ever having to introduce her to another man again. His fiancée had smashed through her dowdy chrysalis and emerged a breathtaking woman, his woman. He wondered what other surprises she had in store for him. Up till this point, he had not once fantasised about his Leilani. Until she walked into the ball and stirred him like no other had before. His reaction had been immediate and if he hadn’t taken control of the situation he could have easily walked around in embarrassment for the rest of the night as his physical reaction was surely undeniable.