Very Bad Billionaires (11 page)

Chapter 9

FRANCESCA

I feel like I need to take a moment to explain myself.

I'm not a bad person, I'm really not ... But it just so happens I might be engaged at the moment to a man who is most definitely not Kaiden Hunter.

Here's how it all happened ...

3 months ago

"Francesca! Come in here," my father beckons me to come into his office. With a heavy sigh, I exchange smiles with my mother and walk into his study at my childhood home. It's a house in the suburbs on NYC, and I've spent my whole childhood here.

I have fond memories of the place, but I have a sinking feeling that is about to change.

I step into the study, my father already sitting down at his desk. As I do the same, taking a chair opposite of his, I realize we're not alone.

There's another man in the room whom I don't recognize. He has short, very dark hair, almost black eyes and a hint of stubble on his face. He's very handsome.

Oh boy.

"Francesca,
cara mia
, I want you to meet Cristiano Antonetti," he says proudly, pointing to the man sitting next to me. I give him an awkward wave, which is followed by a smirk from the man.

So, he may be handsome, but he obviously has no manners or a sense of politeness.

"Pleased to meet you," I say through gritted teeth, and he doesn't say a word back to me. Nice."Why am I here, Daddy?" I turn my attention back to the man of the hour.

He sighs like he's carrying a heavy burden, rubbing his eyes. "I've told you to call me
papa
," he says sternly, and now it's my turn to snort.

"Dad, we're not in some mafia movie," I say, trying to make him believe me.

"We are Italian!" he exclaims loudly, as if to prove a point.

"You were born in Queens," I point out, and he gives me a look I know means I need to shut my mouth now, so I sigh instead. "Why am I here?" I repeat impatiently.

"To meet Cristiano, of course!" my father says happily, coming around his desk and pressing his heavy hands against the man's shoulders. Cristiano smiles at me, revealing his perfect smile.

Fuck, he really is handsome ...

"Cristiano here is a friend of the family," my father says proudly, and I have to bite back my next comment.
Really? Why don't I know him then?

"He has come here today to finally meet you," Daddy continues, looking at me enthusiastically, though I still don't have the slightest idea what this is all about. I implore him to go on with my eyes, and he claps his hands excitedly.

"Dear Francesca, Cristiano is the man you're going to marry!" he says loudly, looking like a giddy child. I'm thankful I don't have a drink with me, because if I did, I would be sputtering liquid all over the place at this exact moment.

Instead, I just sigh heavily, thinking this is just another one of my Dad's wild ideas. "What?" I ask tiredly, too exhausted to fight him.

Maybe I can reason with my father.

"You are to be engaged within the next three months!" my father practically screams.

Yeah. Sure.

"Dad," I say slowly. "I hate to point it out, but I don't even know this man." I smile apologetically at this Cristiano fellow, who just looks at me like he has his own ideas of what he'd like to do with me.

Tough luck, buddy.

"Not a problem!" my father claims, clapping Cristiano on the back. "You like her, right son?"

Cristiano looks me up and down as I fume, apparently deciding whether I am worthy of him. "Sure," he finally says, firing a wicked grin in my direction. "She would do."

"Do?" I repeat incredulously. "You think I would
do
?"

I get up abruptly, wanting to curse them both, but I hold my tongue. "Daddy, this is insane. I'm not going to marry some dude you chose for me that I just saw for the first time."

My Dad looks at me sternly. "We are an Italian family, and it is not uncommon for the fathers to pick out their daughter's husbands," he points out.

"We're from NEW YORK!" I say loudly, unable to hold myself back any more.

"Francesca!" my father raises his voice too, banging a fist on his desk. "I am not going to let you scream and shout at me. It will be the way I said, whether you like it or not."

"Sure," I say bitterly. "Everything always has to go according to your plan, right? Well, good luck forcing me into a wedding dress and dragging me down the aisle."

With that, I storm out of his office, hot tears burning my eyes.

***

I know he didn't let the idea go. He would call me, leaving me messages, trying to set me up with Cristiano. As much as I begged my mother to convince him to stop, he wouldn't give it up.

He even threatened me, saying he would cut off my trust fund if I didn't give it a try.

Which is probably why I made my first mistake ... Because I may have gone on a little teensy itty bitty date with Cristiano in the end, just to make my father shut up.

As handsome as he was, I hated the fact that he was so possessive, a true alpha male. Sure, I like someone who is dominant, but I'm not up for someone dictating my every move, which he apparently thought he had the right to.

And as disastrous as the date was, at least I could tell my Dad I tried.

What I was not expecting was that my father and Cristiano would conspire against me and actually announce our engagement without even fucking
asking me
.

And the best way to find out about that is not being cornered by paparazzi while you're being kissed by a man who is decidedly
not
your fiancé.

But I should have known it would happen, what with my father's assistance.

I'm speechless, though, and I don't have a word to say to Kaiden who is looking at me like I completely betrayed him. I gasp for air like a fish out of water, not knowing what to say.

"Kaiden," I finally manage, but he raises a hand in the air, smiling ironically.

"Is it true?" he asks simply, and I'm rendered speechless. He waits for a split second, but then he demands an answer again. "Is it?"

His voice is rising and we're still surrounded by paparazzi, intent on capturing everything that happens between us on film.

"It ... might be," I finally say softly, and the broken look in his eyes ruins me. "But it's not what it seems like! It's not like that at all!"

He waves a hand in the air dismissively. "I don't care, Francesca," he says tiredly. "I can't deal with this anymore. I just ... I thought we had something special, you know?"

We exchange glances as the cameras click around us, and my heart beats wildly in my chest. "Please," I whisper softly, but he doesn't wait for me to go on.

Kaiden Hunter, whom I've hated, wanted and craved all in the space of a few weeks, walks out of my life once and for all.

Chapter 10

KAIDEN

I wallow in self pity for weeks.

I don't even know why.

Here's a girl whom I haven't even had sex with ... the most I've done was touch her, but damn, it felt so good. Feeling her on my fingers, kissing her pouty lips. It drove me insane.

I've never been one to commit. And I never thought I would. That's why it hurt even more when it all went down - knowing she was cheating on someone else with me.

The tabloids and gossip sites have been full of photos of her lately. After the initial scandal of being caught kissing me, she went back to that Italian guy.

Cristiano.
His name alone makes me want to break his teeth.

Because as much as I try to convince myself that I don't care ... I do. I want her for myself, want to feel her warm lips on other parts of my skin. I want her touch, her love, her attention.

And I've been robbed of all of that by some dude named
Cristiano
, for fuck's sake.

What hurts the most is the fact that she didn't even try to explain.

After we went our separate way in that alley, she didn't try to make contact with me once. Didn't call, didn't e-mail. She still hasn't accepted my goddamn Facebook friend request, for fuck's sake.

And s much as I tell myself I don't care ... Even I don't believe it.

Francesca DeMarco is on my mind all day, every day. And I don't see that changing any time soon.

I'm finally dragged out of my apartment by an old friend, Angus. Instead of being happy about finally heading outside though, I'm plagued by memories of our terrible double date with Angus and Emma, where I met Francesca.

Then again, I would probably be thinking about her if I saw a gum wrapper on the floor, somehow tying it in with Francesca.
Fuck, I'm doomed.

"You have to get it together, man," Angus tells me with a sigh while we down our beers in an uptown bar. "You can't keep going on like this."

"I know," I grumble. "But there's just ..."

"No, Kai," Angus says sternly, sighing heavily. "Listen, she's just a girl. I know she's gorgeous, beautiful ... I know you keep thinking about her. But listen, there are so many girls out there. You'll find someone else."

"But ..." I start, rubbing my eyes tiredly. "I don't
want
anyone else."

And it's true. All I want is her, Francesca ... The Italian beauty with legs for miles, silky locks and a pouty mouth that makes me go wild just by looking at it.

Just then, I make up my mind. "Listen, Angus," I say hurriedly. "Thanks for the drink. I need to get going. There's something I have to do."

He grins at me from across the table. "You're a goner, man ..." he says.

I smile back at him, my mind already making up a plan. "She's worth it," I say truthfully, almost jogging out of the bar.

***

I don't waste any time.

I call Emmalee, Francesca's friend, and even though it takes me ages, I manage to convince her to give me the address I need. I go home and take a quick shower, standing in front of my wardrobe for three times longer than I usually would.

Finally, I pick a more formal outfit - for me, at least. I go with jeans and a shirt, and I reckon I look pretty good. I slick my hair back in an old-fashioned style, even though I still have the same haircut.

Then I take a deep breath and ask my driver to take me to Manhattan.

The traffic is awful, but for once I am thankful, taking the extra time to work on my plan. We finally arrive at our destination half an hour later, and I stumble out of the car.

I walk straight into the building and up to the receptionists desk. The woman looks at me uncertainly, asking who I'm here to see.

"Gianni DeMarco," I say, my voice more sure of what I'm doing then my mind.

"Do you have an appointment?" she asks me doubtfully.

"Tell him it's about his daughter," I say confidently, and she gives me another unsure look, but ends up dialing a number. My heart skips a beat as she exchanges a few short words with the person on the other line.

She finally sets the phone down and gives me a tight-lipped smile. "Mr. DeMarco is in a meeting, but you're welcome to wait in his office," she tells me.

And that's all I need.

***

You would think Mr. DeMarco would be out of his meeting sooner than in three hours. I've been sitting in an uncomfortable chair for hours while his assistant keeps eyeing me and shooting suggestive remarks my way.

If I have to reject one more cup of coffee and an invitation of 'a tour of the kitchen' complete with three winks, I'm going to go insane.

But then finally, mercifully, the door opens, and in walks a tall, broad shouldered man. He looks nothing like Francesca at first sight, but as I jump up hurriedly and look at him closely, I can see the resemblance.

It's in that defiant chin, the high cheekbones. They're definitely related.

"Mr. DeMarco!" I say, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

The man looks at me blankly, shuffling through a stack of papers, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose. "Do I know you?" he asks without interest.

"My name is Kaiden Hunter," I say in a hurry, desperate to have his attention.

And that definitely does it, because he sets down a stack of papers on his assistant's desk and gives me a look that could kill. "You better come in my office," he says sternly, and I feel like I have to go to the principal's office.

I follow him into the other room sheepishly, immediately impressed by the beautiful view he has. I'm about to comment on it and his nicely decorated office, but he gives me a death glare and I just decide to shut up.

He motions for me to sit down and I do as he says.

I almost have a feeling I can smell something of Francesca's in the air. That sweet scent of honeydew is present, like she was here only a few hours ago.

But I think it would be best not to mention that to Francesca's
Dad
.

"Why are you here, boy?" he says at that moment, looking at me like he's heard it all. And with a daughter as gorgeous as Francesca, I'm sure he has ... Though I keep hoping he'll make an exception in my case and actually do what I ask him.

"Mr. DeMarco, I want to date your daughter," I jump straight to the point.

"My daughter is engaged," he says, plain and simple.

"I know," I say softly. "But I ... I don't think he's the right man for her."

He looks at me doubtfully. "And what makes you think that?"

I lean forward. "Have you ever been in love, Mr. DeMarco?"

He looks thoughtful for a moment, but finally, he nods. "I have ..."

I give him an encouraging smile, and finally start to explain myself. "I think ... I think I might be in love with your daughter."

The admission takes a lot out of me, but DeMarco just stares at me, like he's waiting for me to go on. So I do exactly that, pouring my heart out to the man whose daughter I just realized I love.

"Listen, I'm not an expert. I've never been in love before ... I didn't even realize that's what it was until I started talking about it. But there's something about her. The way her eyes light up when she sees me, the way she holds her head when she knows she's right."

I sigh heavily.

"I know I don't know her that well, but sometimes you just feel and know that it's right. And I do, this time around. She's special ... so special. I hope you'll let me have a shot with her."

"She's engaged," Mr. DeMarco repeats like a broken record, and those words make me realize how stupid this whole endeavor is.

But somehow, I just can't let it go.

"It's not too late," I say passionately. "I just need another chance to make it right ... Make her see she belongs with me, and not some guy who shares a name with a prissy soccer player."

I hear a snort and I look at the man in front of me with surprise. He's actually stifling back a laugh, and it's infectious, so I start smiling as well.

"So," I say. "What do you say? Can I have another chance with your daughter?"

His face slowly breaks into a smile. "I don't know. Why don't you ask her yourself?"

I look at him with confusion, but then I hear movement behind me and I turn around quickly. And there she is ... my beautiful, perfect girl.

I get up quickly, strolling towards her and stopping only a few steps away from her. "Were you here for all of that?" I ask her softly.

Her eyes are glassy and her mouth is not pouty for once, instead, the corners of it are being pulled up by an involuntary smile. "Yes," she says, just as softly as I did.

"Did you hear ... what I said?" I ask, my grin spreading.

She nods simply, and shuffles from one foot to another.

"And what about that guy ... Cristiano?" I continue, this question being the most important of them all. She sighs heavily and I prepare for my heart to drop, but instead, she looks at her father over my shoulder.

"Care to explain, Daddy?" she says with an amused smile.

I turn around to look at Mr. DeMarco, who actually looks embarrassed for a second. "Well," he begins hesitantly. "I may have ... jumped the gun on that one. I set her up with Cristiano ... I thought he was a good guy! From an Italian family, you know?"

He looks at me for affirmation and I just give him a blank look, so he finally sighs and looks away.

"Francesca ... My daughter never agreed to marry him. It's just something I cooked up," he says apologetically, smiling like that's going to fix everything.

"What?" I ask angrily. "How could you do that?"

His eyebrows rise and he looks at me sternly. "Are you objecting my decision, boy? I thought you wanted a shot with my daughter."

I clear my throat and am about to apologize, when he laughs heartily, comes around the desk and gives me a slap on the back, so hard I nearly topple over.

"You have my blessing," he says, laughing again. "I like you, boy."

I grin right back at him and am about to turn around to Francesca, when he grips my shirt and pulls me closer. "No sex before marriage," he says sternly.

I look at Francesca over his shoulder and her wicked smile lets me know she has something entirely different in her mind.