Lonzo: Book 1 (Tycoon Series Book 1) (16 page)

Jordana wasn’t used to seeing him that upset. She had tried calling him several times these past weeks but she couldn’t reach him. She left him messages because she was worried. This was so unlike him. He called her only once, when she was on her way to Paris but he sounded off.

“You okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. You still in Milan?” he asked her.

“Yes.”

“Look, I got to go. Got a meeting. When will you get back?”

“I’m now in the airport for New York.”

“Okay. Let’s have dinner when you get back.”

“Take care.”

“You too,” he said before finishing the call.

They weren’t able to go out for dinner when she arrived in the States because she got swamped with work again. Francesca got busy booking her in her absence.

Then she left a week later for Paris Fashion Week.

And here she was now— all alone in the greatest city of lovers.

She felt forlorn. Hearing from Mel, seeing her friend so happy only magnified her isolation.

She pushed the feeling aside. She was here to work not to mope, she told herself.

Like in Milan, major Parisian houses got her to walk their latest collections that would be on the market in the upcoming months. She even got a brand spanking new Chanel bag which she modeled a few days ago.

“You should lock that in your vault or something,” one of her fellow models commented. The bag wasn’t even due for production yet.

Jordana didn’t care. Expensive things like these didn’t impress her. It never did.

Work for her was just her means for escape. But these past few weeks, even work wasn’t enough. There had been instances in which she had to try really hard not to lose focus.

Lonzo kept on invading her thoughts in the most unexpected times. She wanted to forget the man but she just can’t. He began to invade her dreams. She had woken up in the wee hours of the morning with her heart fluttering and her skin burning from wildly erotic dreams that starred him. Drat her hyperactive imagination!

For all the things he had said and done to her, she should be hating his guts.

The unwelcome feelings intensified instead of waning. She even tried going out with other guys but no one elicited the intense and instantaneous reaction that Lonzo evoked in her. A slice of cake sounded way more attractive to her than guys, which boded ill for her dating future.

The thought that she would never experience something that intense with another man made her pause.

What if Lonzo was that one guy who can make her heart race and fill the void inside her?

She wanted to slap herself in disgust. What the heck was she thinking?

Enough of this nonsense!
She was feeling a little attached to the guy because he was her first but in time she would get over and forget him.

Her brain sneered.
Forget him? Sure. Maybe in twenty years.

His once perfect, orderly life was no more.
He couldn’t shove Jordana Almueda aside. The constant barrage of her endorsements on TV or in print didn’t help. In the past, he hardly paid attention to television commercials. Nowadays he’d switch his telly just to see her beautiful face smiling back at him from the screen.

No other woman had caught his eye or his interest since the wedding. For the past month or so, he canceled all social events on his calendar and avoided seeing his regular hookups. They did pester his secretary, leaving a ton of messages to convey their availability but he never returned their calls.

When he got back, he tried to deny the gnawing longing he felt for her. He told himself that he wouldn’t get his pound of flesh. That he had better things to do than spend time pursuing pussy on the side.

So he threw himself into work. But it was no use. Denying himself only fired up his obsession. He finally admitted that the woman had her hooks on him so deep that he couldn’t shake it off no matter what he did. He couldn’t forget her. The woman was stuck inside his head like superglue.

Sleep was no longer a sweet escape. The woman invaded his dreams. He regularly woke up in the middle of the night aroused and frustrated. And he thought wet dreams were something he outgrew during his teens.

The violent feelings of possessiveness and jealousy also came as a huge surprise. The tabloids had reported she was seen dating throngs of men, mostly models during the Milan and Paris Fashion Weeks. Very recently, she was being linked to Chris Falcone. That was hardly surprising. The man stuck to her side during the wedding reception. Rocco’s cousin seemed to be seriously pursuing her. The press was agog on the ‘blooming’ romance between the two. They were photographed having a celebratory dinner after Chris’ football club, Real Madrid, trounced the local football club, A.C. Milan. It was also insinuated that she was very ‘involved’ with her business manager, Leandro. From the grainy snapshots, Lonzo tied the picture to the man who arrived late at the reception.

Was she already expanding her ‘worldly knowledge’?

The raw jealousy ate his insides like acid. Just imagining her locking those long legs around another man made him seethe in anger.

If this weren’t enough to drive him bonkers, there was also the matter about his uncle. The old man wasn’t a model patient. He continued to insist that he was well enough to be discharged. The bevy of doctors that Lonzo asked to care for him disagreed. Thio Fredo may be on the mend but he was still too frail to look after himself. They advised that the patient stay another week at the hospital. This news was met with much disapproval from his already petulant relative.

“You and those doctors cannot keep me here against my will!” Thio Fredo ranted. “They are not even feeding me properly here!”

“You’re in no condition to be discharged. Until your doctors say so, you’re staying put.”

“But—”

“No buts, Thio. And once you’re discharged, you won’t be alone at the vineyard.”

“I don’t need a nurse!”

“Yes you do,” he insisted. “No more tantrums. What would Thia say if she were here? That I’m not taking good care of you?”

The uncle backed off grudgingly after that.

For now, they had reached a truce of sorts. While convalescing, his uncle would stay with him at Villa Lazio, his resthouse located in the Appia Antica, just within the outskirts of Rome. They would wait for the clearance from the doctors, which may take a while. Lonzo insisted that all tests should be done—no stone was to be left unturned.

This news did not sit well with his uncle again. He blustered for a bit that his doctors were overreacting.

Lonzo kept his cool and turned a deaf ear at his uncle’s grumbles . He could sympathize with what Thio Fredo was going through at the moment. The old man practically worked all his life, rising early at dawn to tend the vineyard, working until sundown. No matter how luxurious the villa, his uncle felt frustrated at being confined. The old guy craved the mountains and the wide open spaces of his home.

He did try to make amends by temporarily cutting his load by half and delegating some of the work to his management team. He made sure to spend quality time with his uncle by being around by dinner time. However, his efforts remained unappreciated as Thio Fredo grew crabbier with each passing day.

Just recently, his ornery relative decided to put his nose into his affairs…the female kind. What started as a passing rant on his past but well-publicized liaisons had now graduated into a nightly tirade on his fondness for casual relationships. Lonzo pretended not to hear Thio Fredo’s sermons but the daily discourse was slowly grating on his nerves.

Thio Fredo belonged to a long-gone generation whose views and notions on relationships were old-fashioned by today’s modern standards.He knew that they would never see eye-to-eye on the matter, so he just continued to maintain his silence or say very little during his uncle’s lectures.

“How can you find love,
mio nipote
if you don’t treat them right?” Thio Fredo went on.

Lonzo mentally scoffed.

Love?
Stronzata!

Love was for silly dreamers and mindless romantics.

He was neither and he would never be.

Lonzo was furious when he came out of his meeting.
His negotiations with the labor union at Gruppo Milanese was deadlocked. The union officials were playing hardball. Most of the seniors were still suspicious of VI’s takeover and there were those who still felt loyal to the Agnellis despite poor treatment by the previous management.

He understood the dynamics of family-run companies. He knew that being the newcomer, he was being sized up by the work force. He also knew that he had to prove himself worthy and capable in their eyes. Once he had earned their respect, it would be easy for him and his team to inject changes.

Still, he was annoyed at being bogged down and frustrated with the snail’s pace of the ongoing negotiations. If this didn’t get resolved anytime soon, the company would miss a lot of opportunities that could improve its current financial state.

By the time he’d parked his car at the six-car garage of the villa, his mood hadn’t lightened.

His uncle stood waiting for him at the large, marble-floored foyer.

Thio Fredo noted his dark mood but didn’t comment about it.

He’d thought that Thio Fredo would spare him the ‘talk’ tonight. He was too pissed to deal with that nightly shit.

He was mistaken.

As they were having dinner, he ran figures inside his head as he half-listened to his uncle, nodding at times. Until Thio said something that made him do a double take.

His uncle smiled craftily.

Did he hear him right? Did he just say he should get hitched?

He dropped the cutlery on his plate and faced the older man.

“Marriage? Me?”

“Got your attention did I?”

“You’re joking, right? If so, Thio—” he said, his food completely forgotten.

His uncle looked at him, his old gray eyes astute. “You heard me, boy. Time for you to get a wife.”

His fists landed hard on the table.

“What brought on this idea? So your mortality got sideswiped! Big deal! You’re stronger now and you’ll live for many years if you will only follow your doctors’ advice. Why are you suddenly breathing down my neck?!” he thundered.

His uncle didn’t even blink.

“You’re right. I realized how feeble life is. I am old, I can go anytime. Whereas you—you have dilly-dallied too much. I think it’s time for you to settle down—” he continued to shove his bright idea down Lonzo’s throat.

“I will not be pushed into something I do not want!” he bit out. The idea of matrimony was too distasteful to even contemplate.

The old man sighed but wouldn’t let go. “Ah, Lonzo. You leave me with no other choice—”

“What do you want from me?!” he now shouted at his uncle.

“I want you to have a fulfilled life. Life is not just making tons and tons of money. You need someone. A wife. A family—”

His reply was immediate and harsh. “I don’t fucking need one!”

Thio Fredo’s demeanor changed, his eyes looked tired and sad.

“I want the best for you. Not all marriages are like your parents’. My time’s almost up and I won’t be here for long. Don’t believe those specialists on your payroll…they’ll tell you what you want to hear. I’m not deluded. I’m on borrowed time, Lonzo. You have no other family but me. You have to think of starting yours now—”

“Is this what it’s all about? Progeny?” he retorted sarcastically.

The old man answered with a crooked smile.

“Say whatever you want, son. Get married or I’ll divest my shares in your company. After all, I don’t need them.”

Lonzo froze at the curved ball his uncle had thrown.

He never imagined that Thio would use the company shares as a leverage to get his compliance. The man was insane!

“What kind of sick joke is this, Thio? You can’t be serious!”

“I am not messing around, boy,” his uncle replied firmly.

“I gave you those shares! You know what this company means to me!”

“Well, you mean more to me than having shares in a billion-dollar company. In the end, my boy…I can’t take your billions to my grave. This is why I have to do this. Don’t worry… I’ll give you a few months before I give those shares up. And don’t try changing my mind. We’re too alike in that area. We’re both stubborn.”

Lonzo was so angry that he couldn’t speak at the man who was practically the only parent he ever had since he was barely five years old.

He stood up and left the dining room.

Five minutes later, he drove his red Ferrari from the villa like a raving lunatic.

PARIS, FRANCE

Jordana woke up from the constant ringing of the house
phone inside the suite she was staying in. A quick look at her watch confirmed it was only three o’clock in the morning. She had set the alarm at five because she’d be leaving on an early flight for New York.