Chapter 16
MARCO
“What the fuck are you doing in here?”
Jessica grins like the Cheshire Cat from the back seat of my limo.
I don’t want to be rolling up to this party with her at my side, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to show my surprise in front of Karina.
It’s best if my wife thinks there really is something going on between me and Jessica.
It’s easier to keep distance between us this way.
It’s shitty of me, I know, and fuck if this is what I even want, but how else can I keep a divide between Karina and me?
All I can do is go through the motions of this charade.
No one would ever guess that when Jessica snagged me in the crowd earlier, I smiled in her face while telling her in very clear, concrete terms that she and I were over for good and she’d better stay away. Jessica clearly didn’t get the message.
Because here she is on the seat directly across from me, hiking up the hem of her skirt and spreading her legs leisurely, nonchalantly, as if it’s a perfectly normal thing to do. I keep my eyes trained outside the window, fury rolling off me in waves. This woman doesn’t know when to quit.
“Come on, Marco,” she purrs. “You can’t hold out forever. And don’t worry, I forgive you for your little…performance issue the other night. Let’s try again, shall we?”
“You need to give it a rest,” I tell her coldly.
“Come on. We always had the best sex in cars. We can roll down the privacy glass and give Dante and the driver a show.”
She climbs off her seat and—hand to God—crawls toward me across the floor of the car, her hand reaching out to grab my thigh and work its way up.
I’m already lit up from losing the race to that asshole Pietro, and from being so close to my wife.
Her scent, her closeness, the feel of her body under my hands, that fucking dress.
She looked like a piece of candy I was dying to unwrap.
Fuck. It was so hard to keep my cool, to stay reserved.
It almost broke me. My family wants us to put on a good show, sure, but I think they’d balk at me throwing her against a wall at the afterparty and fucking her senseless in front of all the guests.
Because that’s sure as hell what I wanted to do, appropriate or not.
I need to do something to work off the frustration of losing.
But it sure as hell isn’t this bitch.
“No thanks. I’ve had better,” I retort, pushing her hand off me.
She pouts and I pretend not to notice. Tough. She invited herself into my vehicle, so now she’s going to receive the brunt of my aggravation.
“You’re just crabby because of your blue balls,” she says. “The solution is obvious. Do you really want to show up at this party with that pissy attitude?”
Finger poised over the button that will allow me to speak to the driver through the privacy glass, I tell her, “I’ve had enough. I’m taking you back.”
Jessica laughs. “Oh come on, Marco. It would be rude to kick me out. Not many people saw me get into this car, but I’ll be damn sure everyone sees me get out. Including the press. And you know how easy it is for me to turn on the waterworks.”
“Jesus, Jessica. Why are you like this?”
I’m not a violent man by nature, but I could almost throttle her right now.
She’s got me and she knows it. I can’t have her making a public display at the racetrack, nor at the party where people are expecting me to be with my wife.
It will look like I left Karina purposely to go to the party with Jessica.
Not so great for the blissful, lovey-dovey image we’re trying to portray.
Damn me. I should have just sucked it up, taken Karina to the afterparty with me, and kept the charade going.
It wasn’t the worst thing, having her at my side again.
In fact, if I didn’t think on it too hard, it was almost like before…
before I had to suspect my wife’s every move and keep my heart out of things.
Otherwise, I’d love nothing more than to make a huge public display of dumping Jessica on her ass from my limo and replacing her with my wife.
Heaving a sigh, I say, “Fine. But once we get there, you’re on your own for the night. Don’t even think about coming within ten feet of me.”
She slumps in her seat like a pouting child. “Christ, when did you get so boring?”
“When I realized a woman like you isn’t wife material. I’m not the first Bellanti to think so, am I? So why do you keep trying so hard? I said it’s over, yet here you are. Let. It. Go.”
I’m almost shouting by the time I’m done speaking, and Jessica has dropped her eyes to her lap, biting her lip as she focuses on her nails. For a second, I actually feel bad about unloading on her. Deserved or not, she can’t help who she is.
“Wife material, huh? Didn’t stop you or Dante from fucking me to keep yourselves busy, though, did it?” she says bitterly.
“That was by mutual agreement, and you knew that going in. Casual sex doesn’t mean you’re getting a ring.”
“You fucking Bellantis are all the same. Or maybe you’re not.” She looks up and flashes me a smile. “I haven’t wrapped my legs around Armani yet. There’s still hope.”
She winks.
Armani would eat her alive. If she only knew half of what my brother is capable of.
He’d never tolerate a gold digger like her, who also happens to be mediocre at her job.
I have no idea why Dante keeps her on staff when she’s a half-ass employee and causes constant drama.
Guilt, maybe. Regardless, my blood pressure is rising.
I can feel it in the pulse pounding at my temples.
“You can knock yourself out trying, but it’ll never happen, Jess. Armani is the smartest of us three and he doesn’t pay a whole lot of attention to what his dick wants. He’s a fucking paragon of self-control. But go ahead. You do you.”
There’s a pause, and I hope she’s done talking. The cloying scent of her perfume is pissing me off and the more she speaks, the more I want to leave her on the side of the road.
Still. This isn’t all her fault. I get that. I was a willing partner. But now I’m not, and she’s the least willing woman I’ve ever met to just let things go. I decide to try another tactic.
“Look. I understand that you had some level of investment in what we had, and that your pride is hurt,” I say quietly, trying to extend a verbal olive branch to her. “But at some point, you just have to cut your losses and move on. I know you won’t have trouble finding someone else.”
She shoots me a glare. “I have to say, Marco, I never saw it coming when you snatched yourself a Bruno girl. That was a ballsy move. It was hot. Takes a real badass to stick it to the Brunos like that, without any regard for the consequences. Unless this was all part of your plan to launch a war.”
I consider how to respond or if I should at all.
“I didn’t snatch Karina,” I tell her. “I married her because I wanted to. No ulterior motive. No endgame. Our…relationship with her family was already strained, as you know.”
Jessica scoffs, “Right. That’s hilarious. No endgame.”
All I can do is press my lips together. I’m so very done with this conversation. She’s quiet again, her fingers fiddling with the fabric of her skirt.
Finally, she forces out a stunted laugh. “You know, I have no idea what it means for a man to be with me because he wants to. To actually want me and not just my pussy.”
Is she getting real with me? Christ.
“Jessica, look—”
“No. It’s not just their fault…I guess I don’t think things through hard enough before I dive in. Or I do, but things never turn out the way I plan. Men are always so fucking predictable…until suddenly, out of nowhere, they’re not. And the rug gets pulled out from under me yet again.”
“I’m sorry,” I say haltingly. And I mean it. I do feel sorry for her.
“Don’t be.” Shifting in the seat, Jessica tilts her head against the window.
“And don’t pity me. I’ll figure it out. I might come across pretty mercenary, but I do want a family someday.
I know it’s hard to believe that when you look at me, but I’ve always wanted to have that stability.
” She sighs and my heart tugs in a weird way.
“I guess this is what happens to someone when her daddy skips out on her fifth birthday and never comes back.”
I can relate, if I’m honest. My dad was physically present, more or less, but very emotionally absent.
Not that I’m going to commiserate with Jessica about it.
I don’t want to give her any reason to think that things between us might be anything more than professional going forward.
But what am I supposed to do with this honesty spilling out of her mouth?
“I believe you are capable of finding all the things you want, and more,” I tell her. I clear my throat, uncomfortable with the sudden silence. “Anyway. Looks like we’re here?”
“Yeah.”
Our limo turns into the private drive and stops before a massive gate system. There’s a security camera and a keypad and speaker on the left. Rolling down my window, I catch the sound of the driver announcing my arrival to the speaker box.
Tires crunch on the gravel behind us, and I look over my shoulder to see a black SUV pulling in behind our car. We’re causing a traffic jam, apparently.
And then there’s a loud buzz, followed by a cracking noise as the gates start to swing open. Rolling up my window, I lean back into my seat, trying to prepare myself for the party boy role I’m going to have to play at this thing. Suddenly, across from me, Jessica’s eyes go wide.
“GUN!” she yells.
I drop to the floor of the car on pure instinct at the same time an eardrum-shattering pop fills the air, followed by exploding glass. Shards fall over me, something wet slashing across my cheek and along my neck. There’s the sound of return shots, shouting, all of it deafening.
What the hell is happening? My body goes cold and tingling, darkness closing in the edges of my sight. I smell copper and something burning. Whipping my head to the right, my world suddenly turns to slow motion.
Jessica’s body is crumpled forward onto the floor, her limbs at impossible angles, her sunset-colored hair turning almost black with seeping blood.
“Jessica!”
The squeal of tires. Gravel pinging the car. The deafening white noise of my pulse in my ears.
Hard breathing. It’s me. I’m breathing. I’m gasping…I’m struggling to fill my lungs.
“FUCK!”
As I inch across the floor, Jessica’s slumped body fills my vision. Her hair falls over her face, but she’s…not moving. Her blood wets the floor, my arms, my neck, my face. My hair. Something stings my eyebrow, blood running into my eyes.
“Jessica? Fuck. Fuck!”
“Marco!” I hear Dante shouting.
“Mr. Bellanti! Mr. Bellanti! Are you okay?” It’s the driver’s voice, now, but I don’t even look up as the back door of the limo flies open.
I touch Jessica’s shoulder and give a small shake, even though I know she’s gone. She’s more than gone. Jesus fucking Christ.
Arms are pulling me out of the vehicle and I stumble out onto the gravel drive, falling to my knees.
I’m staring down at the blood on my hands, ears ringing, breath coming hard.
Someone runs over, another car pulls up.
I see Dante’s shoes in front of me. Two men are calling out.
I don’t understand what anyone is saying.
My mind is blocked, frozen, a black hole.
Someone shot Jessica. Someone shot into my fucking car. Did they mean to kill me, or Dante? Both of us? Or is Sergio Bruno so furious that he was actually trying to kill Karina?
My stomach heaves and I fall forward, palms planted on the gravel as I gasp for air.
“Mr. Bellanti—” someone says.
“Call Armani.” The words tumble out, sounding far away. “Somebody call Armani!”
Sirens wail in the distance, growing closer. Around me I hear people talking. The smell of blood and body tissue and fluids cling to me.
Snap out of it, Marco. Snap the fuck out of it!
But I can’t.
Someone shot Jessica.
And I’d bet any amount of money they mistook her for my wife.