CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
O livia’s smile broadened, as Nico seethed.
“Then, I don’t support your marriage to my son,” he said in a terse tone.
“That’s enough,” Rocco hissed.
“Come on, son. Something else is up.” Nico gestured towards me. “Adelina’s calm and you lost everything. She knows something else we don’t.”
I grimaced. “I know nothing about the will. I’m just as surprised as everyone else.”
Luca left me just as vulnerable. If Rocco decided to divorce me, my family would lose everything. I’d have to marry Percy and live far away from Jacob. That’s if Percy doesn’t move him to a place in North Carolina where he doesn’t know anyone.
“I bet you wouldn’t be so accepting if you knew everything Luca was up to,” Nico said to me. “It’s time to tell the whole truth, Rocco. She deserves to know what she’s signed up for.”
“It’s not your place to tell her, Dad,” Rocco snapped.
My eyes shifted between them. “What truth?”
Rocco touched my back. “We’ll talk about it later, Adelina. Listen up, all of you. Adelina’s my wife, and you’ll respect her. I married her and she’s now a Marini. If you don’t want her, you won’t have me.”
Murmurs erupted around the room.
Rocco came close and lifted my chin, giving me a tender gaze I hadn’t expected, considering the magnitude of loss he experienced. After everything said and done against him, Rocco still had compassion for me and it touched my heart. “We’re going to have a meeting with Gunnar. I’ll tell you everything decided and our next step later. But don’t you worry. You’re my wife, and I chose to marry you today.” He said the last part loud enough for all to hear.
My eyes watered, and I lowered my head.
He wrapped his arms around me, and pressed a kiss on my forehead before letting me go.
Then I followed Ian out of the room.
“So what now?” I asked him when we reached the elevator.
He shrugged and gestured for me to follow him down the hallway. “They fight, cry, and Nico continues to hate on you for a bit. But in the end, they’ll move forward because they’re smart. I expect Rocco to use the power he has now to call a board meeting within the hour.”
“What about his film studio?” I asked.
“The changes are part of the new will and ties the funding to litigation.”
I grimaced. “Oh, no. Does Rocco have a chance?”
“He has a good argument,” Ian said and rubbed his jaw. “But Sears is a great lawyer, and he’s had more time to prepare to fight for the new will. He’s in for a big one since he never presented it to the board for approval. Rocco has a hard road ahead, and may have to put his dreams on hold.”
I swallowed hard. “Oh, that’s so unfair. I can’t believe Luca did this to him.”
Ian patted my shoulder. “Rocco’s a big boy, he can handle it. Don’t worry. He also has Gunnar, who’s ruthless. I wouldn’t want to fight him.” He pressed the elevator and I touched his arm.
“Please, wait. I have one last question.”
“Go ahead.”
“What about if we had children now?” I whispered.
He sighed. “It could make it easier for Rocco. He’d get the money for the film studio, and ease his current investors. But it’s a decision only the two of you can make together.”
I lowered my head, not wanting to share my thoughts on it. I told the Marinis that I was willing to have children now. However, seeing Nico’s bitterness was sobering. Rocco told me he felt unwanted growing up. He also said he didn’t want children now.
Rocco still had an abundance of wealth. He was a rising star, and expected Golden Globe winner and Oscar contender for his production of The Age of Sin. It was possible he could get investors without trying to put up his own billions needed to create the studio. However, I understood from Rocco that it wasn’t as easy as Olivia made it sound.
If Rocco fought the will and won, would he stay married to me or would he defeat that provision as well? There was also something hidden about the will that had made Rocco step in and silence his dad. What was it and what would it mean for the two of us?
There was so much going on and I was exhausted, ready to rest.
I said my goodbyes to Ian and left with Zane at the emergency exit on the side of the building. The sky had clouded over, and rain poured down in a heavy stream. I hadn’t an umbrella, but Zane, with fluidity, took off his jacket and gave it to me to place over my head, and I profusely thanked him for it. His jacket covered me when a few reporters broke from their group at the front of the building to rush over to us. They were too late, though, because we reached the Audi he left double-parked, and I quickly climbed in the backseat. I let out a deep sigh when the door closed, and was instantly grateful that the car had tinted windows. However, I kept my head down as he pulled off the curb into the evening traffic. The annoyance and fear from the paparazzi’s aggressive interference eased after riding a few blocks. I wasn’t even with Rocco. What had made me newsworthy?
The feeling of the new band on my finger reminded me why. I was Rocco’s wife. That wasn’t something the press had expected. However, I wanted to call Cassidy to tell her before the news broke.
I took out my phone, and the top story filled the screen. It wasn’t Mr. Marini’s funeral, but an online clip taken of me stumbling as the press asked me if I was pregnant! Oh no!
The impromptu video was filmed live on a social media platform and reposted everywhere. A particularly fast article was getting traction. As I read it, my head pounded with a growing headache.
Does Baby Make Three?
Rocco Marini and Adelina Belfiore, a school-aged-bride seven years his junior, tied the knot at record speed, leaving family and friends of the sought-after billionaire bachelor reeling in shock and dismay. Sources close to the family suspect the heiress is expecting. When asked about it today, Adelina denied being pregnant. However, judge for yourself by watching the clip below. Body language experts have weighed in, and their assessments unanimously attribute her slip as a confession. (Photo: Adelina Marini’s hand with wedding band. The small photo in a circle was captured earlier today of Rocco Marini with the new band on his ring finger. Courtesy of Gertz Photos. Clip: Adelina slips up at an impromptu press conference. Tela News Live. All rights reserved.)
My jaw dropped, and my stomach twisted in guilt. School-aged-bride? Gah. Rocco’s only seven years older than me. Ian told me to keep my mouth shut, but I didn’t, and now people think I might be pregnant. And I still need to replace my birth control pills. My options weren’t the best. If I asked Zane to stop at a pharmacy, what if someone posted that they saw me there?
Cassidy was my first choice, but she was in Massachusetts, and I didn’t know what I’d need to give to her to pick them up or how quickly I could take them. I took a deep breath, and I’ll have to ask Isla . Even though I accepted her apology, I wondered if I could still trust her after she helped Marjorie Storm get private time with Rocco. My mind raced, and my stomach muscles twisted as we sped down the highway. Even after we slowed for the exit near Canal Street, I hadn’t decided. We’re going to the West Village? In our documents, Rocco’s address was a penthouse on the Upper Westside.
I leaned forward and spoke to Zane through the privacy window. “Excuse me, Zane.”
“Yes, Ms. Adelina?”
I smiled at that. “Adelina, please. Why are we not going to the Upper West Side?”
“Yeah, Rocco told me he organized this place for you to stay until you both choose somewhere permanent.”
“Thank you, Zane,” I murmured. My chest fluttered at hearing somewhere permanent.
I chewed my lip as I worried, and decided to check my phone for messages since the press hadn’t given me a chance to break the marriage news to my best friend. There were already two messages left on it. One from Cassidy and another from… Mama?
She hadn’t come to the funeral, but I hadn’t expected her to since her previous meeting with the Marinis had gone bad. I listened to Cassidy’s message first.
“Hey. Call me when you have time. I love you, gorgeous.”
Cassidy’s voice was guarded, reminding me that she was there when someone from Tela News had somehow gotten my personal phone number. I groaned in annoyance. Tela News was the same company that posted the pregnancy video. I took a deep breath to calm myself down. There was little I could do about it. I listened to Mama’s message next.
“Please call me back. Okay?” She let out a few coughs.
No one had told me she had a cold, but I hadn’t asked. I was sure my grandmother told her we married, and she wanted to congratulate me. I pressed my hand to my chest as excitement coursed through me. Oh, my God. It happened . Rocco Marini was my husband. I didn’t even get a chance to experience the magnitude of our brief wedding. All the rush and chaos was becoming normal.
Zane slowed down and pressed in a code at the entrance, and a garage opened to a renovated warehouse building. He parked in a space near an elevator, and we got out. I climbed in, and I noticed there were only five floors, including the garage. We stopped on the fourth floor, but once inside, a bi-level loft reached the top. Zane walked on, but I stopped in place, transfixed by what I was seeing.
The She-Wolf was hanging on the wall right in front of me. It was Jackson Pollock’s mythological masterpiece, of the beast giving the milk of life to Romulus and Remus birthing the city of Rome. At a glance, the image was absolute chaos, like some abstract expressionistic work. However, the power and strength of the wolf stood out amongst the broad strokes and vibrant shades on the canvas. The earthy palette and the thick crest of texture evoked a feeling of strength and power. I felt the energy and urgency in the form; my blood raced through my veins as heat filled my body. I had stared at it for hours the first time I’d seen it, and now Rocco had it in his loft for me to see as soon as I walked in our new place. In a way, the art piece was almost a foreshadowing of our fates, now that we’re compelled to procreate. But what had me losing my composure was that it was intensely erotic. I had a strong desire to have Rocco rip off my clothes, force me to my knees, and pound into me until I screamed just by looking at it. There was a dark high-piled rug in front of it that reminded me of an untamed field.
I touched my hot face. Oh, Mr. Rocco Marini! Did you choose this piece of art because you also found it to be an aphrodisiac? Did you want to drive me to madness and beg for you inside of me?
A creak on the floor behind me broke the painting’s entrancing hold, and my head turned quickly to find out what was there.
Isla?
What was she doing here?