The Veil (The Veil Trilogy Book 1), page 19
He sighed. “Do I have a choice in the matter?”
I shrugged, ignoring his remark. “Do you actually like her or were all of you in this together to--.”
“Let me stop you there, Isabelle,” he interjected signaling for me to stop.
I rolled my eyes, puffing my cheeks out as I slowly allowed air to escape my lips.
“Tanya and I are not together anymore, okay?” he lamented.
My eyes widened and my heart sank. “What happened?”
I slightly gasped, placing my index finger in between my teeth, lightly biting down on my fingernail.
“Well, she kind of went nuts on me when she lost your friendship,” he grieved, “then stopped talking to me when it became too much for her, I guess. Truthfully, I don’t know what happened anymore. She avoids me now.”
“William, I’m sorry,” I apologized with heartfelt sincerity.
“She misses you, you know,” he resumed with pain in his tone. “She left my company.” His tight grip found the steering wheel again. His knuckles turned whiter than before. “I took a lot of shit because of this, Isabelle.”
“Dude, I don't even know what this is!” I blustered. “I didn’t even ask for it, nor did I see it coming.”
He ran his fingers through his hair with one hand as the other rested on the side of the steering wheel much more relaxed now. “I can't talk about it,” he alluded, “I'm sorry.”
Sighing, I fidgeted with my fingers in my lap nervously as the car grew silent. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words were spoken. Instead, I inhaled deeply then slowly exhaled, trying to keep from tearing up at the conversation. I was sad for him, but I was also missing my friend. I knew that she needed me right now as well.
“Your boyfriend can explain all of it to you,” he smirked, trying to lighten the mood.
I blinked my eyes rapidly then matched his expression. “He's not my boyfriend,” I snickered.
“No comment about that,” he grinned menacingly.
“Do you want her back?”
He narrowed his eyes, scowling ahead at the road before darting his eyes briefly in my direction. “Not doing this with you, sorry.”
“Okay, sorry.” I mumbled, sinking into my seat, and sheepishly finding nothing interesting outside my window to focus on.
“To me,” he coldly continued but winced at the same time, “you are still just a business transaction.”
Pressing a button on the steering wheel, he turned the volume of the music up, blaring it from the speakers. It was so loud that I did not catch the rest of what he said afterward. The entire inside of the car was essentially a computer. I did not know how to turn the music down to ask him to please repeat himself. I sat silently, trying to mind my own business.
I knew he was upset about Tanya, but still, his words stung. It had been a while since I considered myself only a transaction. William’s words brought back those memories, slightly hurting my feelings, but I kept my mouth closed, refusing to push him any further again.
Isabelle and William arrived at the airport shortly after me. They both appeared distraught. Promptly, I strode to Isabelle's side, escorting her up the stairs of my private jet.
The moment she stepped inside the door, I spun to William, walking back down several steps closer to him. He had just lit a cigarette as he waited for me on the tarmac, peering up at the plane. Taking a long, slow drag, he watched me, waiting for me to speak as he squinted in the bright light.
“I'll call you when we get there,” I shouted over the noise of a plane taking off.
“I’ll be waiting,” he called out.
He turned to walk away as I entered the plane. Isabelle stood in the aisle as if she were anxious to sit anywhere until I gave her permission. Nervously, she shifted her weight before I gestured for her to take a seat in a chair near the rear of the cabin. I sat in the chair across the aisle.
Reaching out, I took her hand in mine, slowly circling my thumb on her delicate skin. She appeared bothered. I had a feeling it was about whatever had transpired in the car ride with William on the way to the airport. Squeezing her hand tenderly but swiftly a few times, I grabbed her attention. Twisting her head toward me, her gaze met mine. She smiled shyly.
“Are you okay?” I whispered, as not to alarm any of my staff on the plane.
“This is so overwhelming to me,” she confessed, lightly grimacing as the words left her mouth.
“I understand, bella.”
She fought back a smile but failed. I curled my lips into a smirk before dropping her hand and slipping my laptop out of my bag. I set it on the table in front of me and opened it. Knowing that this was a lot for her process, I allowed her to get settled while I worked on a few things. I did not bother speaking to her again as I could tell she was deeply bothered. Trying to remain respectful, I did not press her for answers and focused on what was in front of me, trying to fix everything before it escalated anymore.
I found myself staring ahead but darting my eyes in her direction every so often. She paid me no attention as she nervously fidgeted with her nails and stared out the window. I did not exactly know what to say, rendering myself speechless.
Taking a deep breath, I exhaled as my flight attendant, Amanda, appeared next to our seats. Isabelle glanced up, acknowledging her presence beside her, but she rapidly returned her interest to the window again.
“Mr. Greco, what may I get for you and your guest?”
I reached my arm out and Amanda took a step back. Gently, I stroked Isabelle's arm, commanding her attention. She jumped, spinning to face me then exhaled before returning her gaze out the window.
“Would you like some wine?” I murmured.
She shook her head, never looking back.
“Water for me,” I requested, “and would you bring her some as well?” I muttered, gritting my teeth in frustration.
She nodded before she spun, sashaying to the front of the plane.
Isabelle finally tore her gaze away, turning to me with a smirk. “You certainly don't listen do you, Sir?"
I grinned coyly, as I reached toward her, swiveling her chair to face me. Her mouth fell agape in shock and she nervously grabbed the armrests, stabilizing herself.
“Yeah they spin,” I rumbled, narrowing my eyes. “Are you a nervous flier?”
Her eyes widened. “A bit yeah,” she confessed self-consciously, “but I’m usually stuck in cramped coach on a commercial plane.”
Cocking my head, I listened carefully to her. I did not always listen to women, but I hung on her every word. Between her facial expressions and tone, I was utterly captivated by her.
“I could dance in this plane,” she joked.
I nodded, smirking, before narrowing my eyes on her. “Knock yourself out.” I gestured to the aisle floor.
Her face flushed a bright shade of red as she scratched the back of her head. Her eyes darted around looking at everyone up front.
“I’m not going to dance on your plane,” she hissed. “That's weird.”
“But you said you could.”
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat averting her gaze to her lap. “Could, not would.”
Reaching for her hand, I grabbed her wrist, tugging her in my direction. “Come here," I demanded mischievously.
Wasting no time, she stood, stumbling over into my lap, but caught herself on my shoulder and the table with my laptop. Sitting sideways, she crossed her ankles then wrapped her arms around my neck, lacing her fingers together behind me. I pressed my lips to hers just as the flight attendant returned with our water.
“Amanda,” I addressed her, lifting my eyes, “we changed our mind.” I glanced at Isabelle, smiling, “We would like a bottle of champagne instead.”
“Of course, Mr. Greco,” she professionally replied with a warm grin before quickly spinning away.
Isabelle snorted, “You probably drive your employees so crazy.”
“I try,” I smirked.
“So where are we going Mr. Mysterious?” she whispered, placing a kiss next to my ear while running her fingers through my hair.
Amanda promptly returned with two glasses of champagne, setting them on the table. I nodded in acknowledgment. Isabelle had not taken her gaze off me.
“To my place in London,” I smirked, reaching out and taking the glasses, handing one to her.
Puzzled, she took a small sip. “You're from Italy,” she countered.
“Si,” I confirmed with a nod, “but I have a place in London as well.”
"Surprise, surprise," she joked sardonically then chugged the rest of her drink.
I took her empty glass from her, setting it on the table with my own. I lifted her off my lap, twisting her body so that she was straddling me. I wrapped my arms around her, gripping her bottom in my palms as I pulled her into my lips. Our tongues danced as I ran my fingertips slowly up her side under her shirt. She peeled herself away from our kiss, glancing back over her shoulder at Amanda and my security team.
“You realize we're not on here alone, right?” she sighed, turning back to me, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
I nodded, gazing into her eyes with lust and desire. “It's not like I'm fucking you in front of them, bella.”
“But you would,” she snickered, “wouldn't you?"
“Maybe,” I muttered, yanking her into my mouth once more, planting a playful peck on her lips. “I just don't care what I do in the privacy of my own plane.”
She glanced down at our laps, smiling shyly. I noticed that Isabelle had two sides to her. The first part of her was a shy little girl who blushed when someone put any focus on her. The other side was a caged animal ready to be released into the wild.
I loved both of these sides of her. It was what provoked me to purposely make her frequently blush. I found myself staring at her as she wrapped her arms around my neck again. Subtly, she began to rock back and forth on my lap with the guidance of my hands on her hips. She smirked when she began to get a reaction in my pants. Resting her lips so close to mine, I felt them graze my skin.
“It's so very tempting,” she whispered.
Just as I was about to reply, Joseph asked to speak to me privately in the very rear of the plane. I nodded before asking Amanda to refill Isabelle’s champagne for her. I then followed Joseph, leaving Isabelle to drink and relax in my chair.
Once alone, I sat completely awestruck that I was in a private jet on my way to London with the most beautiful man on the planet; and he wanted me, of all people. I knew something secretive was being discussed in the back of the plane.
I did feel safe with him, and oddly enough, I trusted him. Undeniably so, this entire situation was insane. Things like this did not happen to people in the real world. This seemed too good to be true.
When I paused to think about how I got here, I laughed at the thought that I was placing all my trust into a man who bought me. Most girls would have left a long time ago or called the cops. Here I was, enjoying almost every confusing moment of this insane journey that Valentino had me on.
The flight attendant glided over to me with the bottle, refilling my champagne as ordered while she hummed a tune, gazing into the glass thoughtfully. She was beautiful and her attire, while professional, was a little on the small side. Her breasts peeked out of her top while her skirt stopped mid-thigh.
Maybe that’s how Valentino liked the women who worked for him. Based on what I had witnessed so far, it certainly seemed that way. I snickered at the fact that I was jealous of her, yet five minutes ago, I was straddling Valentino's lap, making out with him in a plane full of his staff.
I swallowed my envy, beaming, “Thank you.”
She nodded, matching my face, “You’re welcome.”
Shortly after she returned to the front of the plane, Valentino emerged. I stood, stepping into the aisle, allowing him enough room to squeeze by so he could return to his seat. He held his hand out, motioning for me to return to his lap. Settling on his lap sideways, I suddenly felt somewhat lightheaded.
He smirked, “Only glass number two, right?”
“Mm-hmm,” I hummed taking another sip.
I offered it to him. He curled his lips around the rim, sipping from my glass before motioning for the flight attendant again. She waltzed over immediately, seemingly flirty this time.
“Yes, Sir?”
Her desperation now showed. As a result I involuntarily rolled my eyes, snickering as I buried my face into his neck, remembering the effect it has on him. He gently squeezed my thigh causing me to lift my head.
“Could you just leave the bottle at the table this time?”
She nodded, setting it on the table next to his laptop before disappearing once again.
He gently kissed my cheek. “You're the only one who calls me that,” he growled in my ear, “and it results in me fucking you.”
I swiveled my chair around to face the table. She glanced at the computer screen as I pulled up several documents. I planned to attempt my work with her on my lap. It was not like she would understand what I was doing, so I felt it was safe for the time being.
“What are you working on today, boss?” she murmured, admiring the files open on the screen. “I mean, you are technically my boss, now right?”
I nodded, smirking, trying to hide the fact she was driving me crazy. She was stirring something in me that I had never allowed myself to experience. Slowly, but surely, she was breaking me. I wanted to show her the darker version of me.
Something was holding me back, but I did not know exactly what that was. I found myself wanting us to find out together. Truthfully, I was starting to feel real things for this woman. I was trying hard to stop fighting it. The reality was that our lives were complicated. Somehow that turned me on even more.
I clicked one final folder and the screen lit up, tabs cascaded down the display screen. I planned to tell her most of the details when we safely arrived at my house in London. For now, I kept my work to myself as I wanted to tell her in a more relaxed environment. I froze, realizing that I opened the wrong file; the one file I did not want her to see. I began to rapidly close the tabs on each window as she intently watched. Suddenly, she audibly gasped.
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed loudly, causing my staff to all turn and look at us. “Go back!” she demanded harshly.
“What?” I was closing windows so rapidly that I did not know she had seen anything yet.
“The photo!” she snapped.
I took a deep breath, realizing she had in fact seen what I was trying to hide. I was caught. I struggled to play it cool as I opened up a few of the previous tabs one by one. She studied each one, some of which contained photos of various buildings.
“No, that's not it,” she insisted.
I was avoiding the obvious one, but I was out of pages to flip through. Taking another deep breath, I opened it, ready to accept my fate. Nothing would be more awkward than arguing in an enclosed space with four more hours to go. The page loaded the photos and information.
Her eyes widened as her mouth dropped open. Reaching out, she touched the screen of my laptop, swiping through a set of photos on the bottom right side of the screen. Each photo contained parts of my hidden secret. She began to shiver. I felt her lightly vibrating my legs.
“Bella, I can explain,” I blurted.
“Shhh,” she hissed as she continued to scroll through all the documentation I had.
“What the fuck is this Valentino?”
Her photos, her father's photos, information on both of them, information on my job, and finally, a copy of the contract I signed in Spain. It was all in front of her. I sat completely exposed and vulnerable.
In no version of this scenario could I win. I was stuck. It was finally time to come clean. No time like the present and she was not going to take, let's talk later, for an answer.
She crossed her arms over her stomach, glaring at me with narrowed eyes.
Rolling my eyes, I exhaled, “Bella--.”
“Valentino,” she growled, cutting me off, “what the actual hell is happening?”
A look of paranoia and terror slowly spread across her face. I sighed, wishing that I would wake from the nightmare I was now living. It was unenviable that after hearing what I had to say, she would never trust me or speak to me again.
“Your father asked that I not tell you anything bu--,” I began to explain.
She interrupted with eyes full of betrayal, “What does my father have to do with this?”
“Bella,” I sighed, “he asked me to watch you.” I lowered my head in shame.
She jumped off my lap, blustering, “What the hell are you talking about?”
I attempted to explain, nodding toward the photos on the laptop, “Your father asked that I watch you but--.”
“My father is dead!” she shouted.
The cabin fell so silent that you could hear a pin drop if it were not for the low hum of the engine. I lifted my hand, signaling for my staff to mind their business. Part of them returned to their positions but exchanged glances with one another.
Confused, I peered up at her, arching my eyebrows. “Bella, I met with him,” I muttered as I pointed at the screen. “He is right there, and you see, he hired me to--.”
She began to cry and shake so I stopped speaking. She fell back in her seat, recoiling as her eyes welled up with tears. Immediately, I stood, stepping across the aisle, kneeling in front of her. I placed my hands on her thighs, gazing up at her with the most non-threatening look I could muster in the moment.
“I wanted to tell you so many times, but I wasn’t allowed,” I explained quietly.
“No no no,” she lamented.
“What do you mean, no?” I faltered.
“Valentino my father was killed years ago,” she finally choked through her tears. “That is my evil uncle.”
A waterfall of tears began to flow down her soft, rosy cheeks. It took a minute for me to process what she was talking about. I tried to press her for more information, but as delicately as possible.
