CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
C hime. I left the desk to check the phone. Rocco. A rush of excitement rose inside me, and I answered quickly. “Hello, Rocco.” My voice came out scratchy.
It had been almost a week since Rocco confessed what Luca had done to my family. We both went back to work, which was all we could do. I stayed busy drawing scenes for the sample submission and remained in the guest room. Rocco worked longer hours at the office. Still, he checked in every day, primarily by text.
“Hello, Adelina.” His tone was light, but he called me Adelina instead of Bella. My disappointment caught me off guard, and I sank into my seat at the desk. The line went silent, and a surge of panic rose inside me, fearing our call would end prematurely.
“How’s work?” I blurted.
“Good. Very busy. Yours?”
“I’ve got plenty of wasted paper; I should plant trees. My sketchbooks are full, but I’ve nothing good enough to use. Maybe the Bumble Bee Book was a fluke?” I scrunched up my face.
“Not at all. It’ll come; just give yourself time. You’ve got this.”
Rocco’s certainty was also something I missed. And waking up with his arms around me.
“I’m not giving up yet. What about you? How’s the litigation going on Luca’s will?” I lifted my hair off my neck.
He sighed down the line. “Slow. We’re not sure the will’s real.”
My mouth dropped open. “Seriously?”
“Yep. We have experts examining it because it’s so drastically different from the one he approved through the board five months ago.”
“Didn’t Mr. Sears say he rewrote it only a few months ago?”
“Yes, which is why a judge approved to have an outside company authenticate it. It’s odd.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“What did you think?” his tone held interest.
“That the video wasn’t new. Luca didn’t look like that when we saw him in Italy. So, I thought maybe this will was written back then, and never submitted?”
“I like your theory and I thought the same thing. That video was from at least eight years ago. That’s when we used to fight about me leaving Marini Corporate.”
My stomach squelched. Luca must have planned to marry me to Rocco that night he met me. But the cruelty to his own family I still didn’t understand. “Yeah, it seems odd. It’s like he reverted to the man he was years ago. If we didn’t see him in Italy, I’d wonder, but that will wasn’t Luca.” Or was it? I didn’t really know him. “I don’t know.”
“You do, Adelina. The trust can’t explain why Luca sent a will to the board and verbally entered into several recent meeting minutes that I was to be his successor. The new will is not board-certified. Gunnar believes we have many arguments to invalidate it.”
“Then, why can’t you?” I asked, closing the sketchbooks and laptop.
“Mr. Sears and the estate trustees want to fight for it. It benefits him and his group, giving them more power. But even they can’t argue that some of the changes were things Luca knew he couldn’t make without approval. It’s strange.”
I sighed. “Well, then, it’s good you’re fighting it.”
“I know my grandfather expects me to. I’ve won a lot of my power back, but when I raised dismissing the child provision in the current will, my mother refused to change it. She’s the second highest shareholder.”
I grimaced. “That’s cruel. How could she do that to you?”
“She wants babies. Even bought a stroller.”
I groaned, “That’s…crazy.”
“It is. She agrees with Grandfather about Marini elders needing to guide their offspring. She wants us to have children now.”
“Can’t we talk her out of it?” I chewed on my lip.
“Maybe you can? She wants to see you.”
“I-I can’t. Not…not right now,” I stammered as I massaged the back of my neck. We weren’t good yet, and I didn’t want to be pressured by her.
“I told her you need some time alone. She asked I offer anyway.”
“Tell her thank you. What about your dad?” I wrinkled my nose.
He scoffed. “Still being an ass, but we restored his promised trust from Luca. We’re mediating about some of our larger properties and land holdings. But it still looks like we will end up in court.”
“I’m sorry, Rocco.” I blew out.
“I haven’t given up on getting it all or my movie studio. Now that my key investors know about Luca’s will, they will want more for their investment, which I don’t want to change.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” My voice raised octaves.
“Not really. Gunnar’s the best, we will win. As for expanding my production studio, I think after the Oscar win for The Age of Sin, I’ll have a better chance of getting everything I want. But right now I’ll have to try for more investors.”
I admired his sureness, but it all made me sad because he always worked so hard. “All you do is give them everything. It’s unfair they are making you do this.”
“You worried about me, Adelina?” There was delight in his tone.
“I am,” I admitted hoarsely.
“I love hearing that. I miss you, Bella. I hate going to our bed without you in it.” Bella. How I’ve missed him calling me that. His voice was deep and fueled my longing.
“Rocco.…” I said his name but didn’t know what else to say to him. It still hurt.
“I hate what my grandpa did; it’s hard to respect him. I can’t believe he’s the same man who did so much good for so many people and put everyone through school, college, and all the charities. I was so proud to be a Marini. To know he left your mother, Jacob, and you so vulnerable…I want to hate him; maybe I do.” Rocco’s voice filled with anger and disappointment.
“Don’t hate your grandfather. He kept it from you for years, right?”
“Yes. As I said, he only told me about the arranged marriage months ago.”
“Then it’s all still new to you. I’m having a hard time finding hate myself. Judge Colby chose to hurt us.” I was coming to better terms about it on my own.
“I still pick up the phone, ready to call him,” his voice lost steam.
“I do, too,” I confessed in a hushed tone. But then, the opportunity to reminisce about the Luca Marini we both knew seemed to bring a sense of comfort to Rocco, and I found myself feeling the same.
“Mom sent a picture from my first communion;. I got into a fight and ripped my new pants. She was furious, but when Grandpa heard, he laughed so hard.”
I giggled. “You fighting?”
“Yep. Peter Grayson called my mom ugly.”
“That’ll do it,” I joked.
Rocco told me another story about his grandfather singing opera for a small gathering in Rome. He then told me about the children’s homes and schools he invested in, that he’d take Rocco to visit every year. I told him about our yearly book challenges, and all the ways his grandfather was a world historian. Any country he could rattle off their entire history. That was the man we both loved. It was also good to hear Rocco’s voice. He spoke in a way that made me want to listen to him all night.
The phone muffled. “I’ve got to go.”
My pulse jumped in my throat. “You coming back?”
“I will see you tomorrow morning.”
I couldn’t help but feel the first bit of peace since our fight. I missed him.
That was real.
“Argh.” I kicked the covers, my heart pumping so hard it was as if I had run a race. The residue of fear and loathing remained in my head, but the details had already faded beyond my grasp. I had another nightmare and sweated the sheets.
From the years of therapy, I learned to observe and let go, knowing that in the present, I was safe, and that my past could no longer hurt me. Running was the exercise I used to exhaust my mind so I could rest. Last night I skipped the run on the treadmill before bed. Still, I recognized what happened, and could move on.
I left the bed, showered, and then changed into a tracksuit. I walked out of the bathroom, lifting my hair to pull on a tie, when Rocco came in. He was dressed in a shirt and slacks. I almost forgot how incredibly sexy he was—almost. My face warmed and I let my hair fall in my face to hide whatever lustful look I gave him.
He responded with a dark, lustful grin of his own. “You want me, Bella. Come get me.”
My breath hitched, and I tried to cross my arms but settled them on my hips, shifting my legs to hide the sensual tug at my core. I was eager to give in and let him have me. But I tried to play it cool. “What’s up?”
“Me soon, if you don’t stop wiggling,” he teased. “It’s torture.”
“I’m torturing you?” I asked and let out a shaky laugh.
“You have no idea how sexy you are. How hard it is knowing how soft and wet you are on my tongue. How tight your pussy grips my cock. You nourish me. You’re my She-wolf.”
My body felt like I would combust in flames, confirming what I thought. Rocco got the Museum of Modern Art to loan the Jackson Pollock painting so that we could fuck in front of it. The images that crossed my mind had me so wet and desperate. Every breath I took was heavy, and I wiggled, which I hadn’t known I did until now. I tried to soothe the ache and play it off like it wasn’t happening. But he knew.
“Mmm. You want it. Why deny yourself? I’m more than willing to fuck you.”
“Stop. I can’t take anymore.” My words came out husky and I wanted to disappear from embarrassment.
His grin was wicked. “You can and will, but right now, let’s go to your new office.”
“New office?” I repeated.
“Paul gave me the idea. He made a home studio for Nadia in most of their homes so she could work anywhere. So, if you will follow me.”
I walked downstairs next to him to a room off the dining room area I hadn’t explored. I covered my mouth as the Bumble Bee Ball-framed cover was the first thing I saw inside. It had a table island where I could lay out designs.
“Check this out.” Rocco showed me a remote control that operated the desk. It lit up so that I could see a vivid image of the sketches, which I appreciated. The desk also had a lounge chair and a bunch of books. Most were on illustration, but some were books Luca had sent me that I treasured. There was also a corner of the room for painting, complete with canvas on an easel.
“Let’s hope Jacob can visit,” he said, and my heart skipped.
I opened a row of low cabinets to find they were fully stocked with supplies of paints, pencils, and anything else I could imagine to use to illustrate.
“It has everything. I’m speechless.” I sucked in air and touched my chest.
Rocco went over and pulled out the bar seat next to the draft table. “For the artist.”
I trembled all over as I walked to stand next to him. A picture of the two of us at our announcement party was on the table. We only knew each other for a few days, and I was so captivated by everything he did. He looked happy. The room, books, and photos were all so thoughtful, and touched me deeply.
My eyes stung. “Rocco, you’re so unbelievable.”
He came closer, and I gingerly walked to him and hugged him. “Thank you so much. You…you spoil me. I was fine doing stuff at the desk. You don’t need to go out of your way.”
“I didn’t,” he mused, keeping me in his arms. “You’re my wife, Adelina. I care for you, and I’m committed to your dreams. Just as much as you are to mine.”
I broke away slowly and peered at him. There was something about it all that still nagged me, and I wanted the truth. “Did you arrange for Lily Crane to send me an illustration job inquiry?”
He stared directly into my eyes. “No. I’d never fix a win for you. I want you to feel accomplished.”
My chest fluttered, but my conscience wasn’t as sure. He must’ve done something. “But out of the blue, she sent me a request. Come now.”
He gave me a sheepish grin. “I was so proud of your work that I sent a copy to everyone I knew. I was sure my family and friends would love it, too.”
Ian had said as much. Rocco went tended to go all in, operating at times on impulse. However, I still had doubts. “It’s okay to admit you asked Lily Crane to help me.”
He smirked. “I’d tell you the truth. Lily’s her own boss; she makes her own decisions. Paul always sends her things, but she rarely takes an interest.”
A thrill intermixed with jitters danced in my stomach at the thought. I’d get to talk about my work with Lily Crane. Unbelievable.
“It’s an offer, not a job,” Rocco pointed out. “But I believe you will have many more—”
“But if it wasn’t for you, and I submitted alone, I might not have passed the gate.”
Rocco shrugged. “I don’t have an answer for that because that’s not what happened.”
I huffed. “But it’s unfair. I only got the opportunity because of you.”
“No,” he said, his jaw ticked. “She may have stopped to look, but she didn’t hand it to you. She saw potential and gave you a chance to try. If you don’t like the rules, change them when you make it.”
His advice resonated, and I very much liked his approach. It was still up to me to do the work. “Thank you, Rocco.”
He nodded and smiled wistfully. “That’s the whole reason I want my movie studio. I want to give creators with no backing a chance.”
“That sounds great, and honestly, I want that for you.”
We gazed at each other, and lost sense of time.
“There’s another reason I sent out your books.”
“Oh? Tell me.” I smiled.
“I did it because you found positive articles and reviews when I was down after Cannes. You were just as upset that I didn’t get the success from the event that I wanted. You had my back; that meant a lot to me.” His gaze was strong, and I could feel the tugs on my heart. Our shared experiences, especially the disappointments at Cannes, had brought us closer.
“I want you to have everything you hope for.” It was a sincere wish for him from my heart.
He smiled brightly. “I believe you do… I believe in you.”
Rocco’s encouragement was therapeutic, and it was all Rocco. It was not something that he had to say or do. He said it because he cared for me. He broke more of my resolve to stay away from him. I felt my heart sink as he moved to the open door to leave.
“Now, I have a hard-on and I have to go to work,” he half-joked.
I laughed.
“Laugh all you want; you’ll pay for it, Bella,” he teased, winking at me.
He walked out, and I wished he stayed.