《The Girl Who Was Abandoned》No Control
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Everyone was staring at her. Every. Single. Person.
Meanwhile, Clara was still processing what just happened. The ugly feeling of anger crept over her. How dare Lorenzo let his father introduce her in this way? She still had 2 days to make a decision.
When the guests' attention shifted to something else she started walking away at a brisk pace, she wanted to leave.
Lorenzo noticed it right away and followed her.
"Clara, wait. Are you mad?" He asked trying to stop her from walking away.
"Why would your father introduce me? I still have the time to decide if I want to marry you!" She half-whispered half yelled without stopping.
"You still can say no Clara. Clara, wait"
"Lorenzo, Flavio is asking for you," one of Vito's men said.
"Tell him I can't come right now" Lorenzo dismissed him.
"Go. You have business matters to take care of and it is what this relationship is about after all" Clara instructed.
"We should talk" Lorenzo decided not wanting to let her go.
"We will talk later. Lorenzo, please. I want to be alone now. Please"
He looked her in the eyes and he knew she needed that. He sighed.
"Fine. I will find you later. Don't be mad Clara, it's just politics. It doesn't have anything to do with our relationship or our deal. I promise. And don't you dare run away" he warned quietly and Clara nodded in response.
The moment he turned away from her she snatched another glass of wine from the tray sitting innocently on the table.
She wanted to get drunk today.
🔆🔆🔆
It was really late and Clara was hammered. She didn't know when it happened she was always the lightweight but at the current moment, she was not fully aware of what is happening around her.
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So she went to the part of the garden that was far away from the guests. She had found a bench and decided it's a perfect place to rest.
Her head was spinning and she wasn't sure that getting up now would end up with her throwing up. So she was patiently waiting for nausea to pass as she enjoyed the warm weather, clear starry sky, and quiet.
It was so nice that she decided to close her eyes for a moment. And just like that, she was asleep.
She woke up to Lorenzo's voice.
"Clara? I have been a step away from sending a search party from you" Lorenzo scolded gently. He sat next to her and stroked her cheek "How are you feeling, dolcezza?"
"What does it mean?" She asked wondering about the nickname he gave her.
"You're asking just now?" He asked, looking both surprised and amused "What if I have been calling you a wet cat all along?"
"Though luck I guess" she smiled back at him.
"It translates to sweetness or tenderness," he explained.
"I'm not. I'm bitter. You should call me Your Bitterness" she joked with a tired voice.
"You're like a fruit" he explained, now amused.
"I'm too drunk for your deep metaphors, Lorenzo," Clara said dryly.
"Let me explain then. Fruits can have bitter outer skin like oranges or hard surfaces like coconut. But inside your mind, you fight something sweet or tender. I see both in you and I want to get to that inside you're guarding with such a passion" he said with gentleness.
"You really are a restaurant owner. Woah," she said, shaking her head gently. Gently because she was so drunk she changed her position from lying to sitting.
"I learned from the best Italian and French chiefs the least I can do is to use some food themes when I speak," Lorenzo grinned.
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"Were you attending cooking school?"
Lorenzo snorted "I attended Harvard Business School like my father expected of me; everything else was extracurricular activity including cooking. The key to everything is enough money, you know"
"This has to become some sort of inspirational quote" Clara responded shaking her head.
"From what Milo told me you and Giorgia didn't hit it off" Lorenzo changed the topic, his voice was more serious now.
"She hates me," Clara said bluntly. "Should I be afraid she's going to stab me with a butter knife or something?"
"Don't worry piccola arancia I will protect you from her" he said. "I will make sure she's never invited to this house again since she's bothering you" he assured.
"Good. Make sure she never comes back"
"Everything for you my love"
After saying that his hands slid under her back and knees and he lifted her up.
"W-What are you doing?!"
"Getting you to the bed of course" Lorenzo explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
She didn't fight him. She was too tired and also it was very nice to be held in his embrace.
"Aren't we going back to the house we were staying in?" Clara asked confused why they're entering Vito's house instead of Lorenzo's car.
"Grandfather prepared the guests room for us"
"I thought we weren't sleeping there because the guest rooms are taken by the kids"
"Not at all I told you I wanted us to have privacy," he said lying her on the soft bed. "The party is not over yet and I need to go back there," he said quietly and stood up.
"Stay with me tonight" she pleaded. She found herself grabbing him by his sleeve.
"Should I?" He asked pleasantly he leaned over her, cocky smile on his lips. She touched his cheek. He had such pretty eyes. Then she grabbed his head and pulled towards herself to kiss him. The moment she placed a hungry kiss on his lips he pulled away.
"You're getting a little too bold Ms. Castillo," he said with amusement.
"I'm not sorry," she said, emboldened by her drunken state.
"You're not, huh? Then I should pay you back with the same rudeness" he kissed her back, his kiss was longer, gentle but passionate.
She moaned and started to unbutton his shirt. He grabbed both of her hands by the wrists and pulled them over her head "Ma'am this is so inappropriate have you asked about my consent?" He was playing with her, she was clearly having fun torturing her.
"Please" she moaned.
He lowered his head so he was closer she could feel his warm breath on her neck as he bit her ear in a gentle warning "if I remember correctly there's no sex rule" he said very satisfied with himself.
"You can't be serious?" She said.
"Oh but haven't I told you dolcezza that you're going to regret it?" He smiled triumphantly "I'm the man of my word. Deadly serious all the time. Extremely handsome and hot too"
"I hate you"
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8 72TVPWTLGH
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8 147The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield
***The wrong girl is sometimes The Right One.*** Charlotte Samuels thought she'd be stuck waiting tables at Marlow's until all her debts are paid off-in about ten thousand years or so. She definitely didn't expect a marriage proposal from the arrogant Brandon Maxfield who was blackmailed by his father to make her his wife if he didn't want his least favorite cousin to run Maxfield Industries. Charlotte's instinct was to say HELL NO! but she's stumped by a few obstacles: 1.) His old man Martin Maxfield is dear to her heart and has been recently deteriorating in health. 2.) She gets a million dollars if she stays married to Brandon for a year. 3.) She would rather like the opportunity to teach the attractive but awfully rude man a few lessons he didn't think he needed from a 'teenage gold-digger' which was his term of endearment for her on their first date-er, business meeting. So what's a girl got to do, right? Sure, she's young and a little rough around the edges but there's something her would-be husband didn't know about her yet-she's nothing like he ever expected. Thrust into the glitzy world a standard-issue Mrs. Maxfield would fit perfectly and rule with impeccable social grace, Charlotte will either have to force herself into the mold or break free of it, risking what little she has left for everything that she can gain.*** Copyright © 2014 by Nina Tippett. All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of Nina Tippett. This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Images, music and videos used in the cover art and any of the multimedia content posted in this story are the sole property of their respective owners.
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