Chapter 34


My first thought was to panic. But since we were the only two people here, panic wasn't an option. I stared at Olivia. She stared back. And we waited. For what, I wasn't sure. Maybe for the reality of the situation to sink in.

"Olivia, when are you due?"

"About now," she said calmly. As-a-matter-of-factly.

"Aren't you supposed to be...?"

"Feeling contractions right about now?" she finished and I nodded.

She chewed her lip, her eyes concentrating on nothing again, as if to go inward and ask her body, 'what next?' In the movies, when a woman's waters broke she immediately went into labour. Labour pains and all. Right? I stumbled back a step and then two, my hand fumbling for a pocket to fish out my phone. Then it registered that I didn't have a pocket, I was wearing a dress and my phone was back in my room upstairs.

"I'm going to call an ambulance!" I bolted from the sitting room and up the stairs, taking two at a time. By the time I staggered back down to Olivia, I was breathless and panting. She was breathing heavily too, sucking air in through her nostrils and blowing it out through her plump lips.

"Oh, oh, oh! I think I'm having one," she wheezed, her face crunching up into a pained wince.

Okay. Stuff was getting real now. We were about to have a baby in the house!

"Olivia, what's the emergency number for Italy?" I asked and she blinked a couple of times before looking up at me in utter horror.

"Um... I'm not sure."

Common sense would have told me to Google it, or, in the very least, try nine, one, one in the hopes that it would be re-directed as was the case in Australia but my thinking cap wasn't on. It was more like my panic-cap. I dialled the next person I could think of. Alessandro. He didn't answer. Olivia gave me Luca's number but that was to no avail. Then I tried Phil, my bodyguard who we'd left in Rome. He answered on the first ring.

"Miss?" he said in his deceptively gentle Kiwi accent. "Is everything ok?"

"Olivia! It's Olivia! She's having a baby. I need an ambulance!"

A curse and then a mutter ensued from the other end of the line. Alessandro had taken his own driver with him to Florence so we were truly alone.

"Ok, Miss Lizzie, I have the emergency services on the other line. Where are you?" he asked and this was my next fear realised. "What's the address of where you're staying?"

"I don't know."

Another curse. "Don't worry, I'll look you up on your GPS."

The phone fell silent. I stole a glance back at Olivia. She was sitting on the edge of the seat, fussing over the fact that she'd just burst her waters over Luca's expensive lounge. Then another contraction hit and she doubled over, moaning through the pain. This was all happening too fast. Town, where the hospital was, was miles away. By the time Phil or the ambulance reached us, the baby would be here. I needed to take decisive action. After all, fathers and family members of pregnant women found themselves in this situation all the time, right?

"Olivia, do you have your hospital bag packed?" She nodded and pointed at a cupboard in the main foyer. Smart thinking. "Good. Alessandro's keys are on his bedside table. Hold on, I'm going to bring around the Lambo and then I'm going to help you into the car and either I'll drive you to the hospital or we'll meet the ambulance on the road."

She nodded and I felt momentarily touched that she actually trusted me enough to pull this off. Phil, on the other hand, was shouting at me through the phone.

"No you don't! Miss! Listen to me! Stay where you are!"

"Tell the ambulance to meet us!" I said, then hung up the phone and stuffed it into my bra.

I made another bolt upstairs for Alessandro's car key then down into the garage. The Lamborghini we'd driven here was sitting next to a couple of Luca's own performance cars. Pressing the button for the garage door, I slipped in behind the steering wheel and adjusted the seat to fit my much shorter frame. Smooth leather greeted me - from the seat to the softness of the steering wheel. Being one of Alessandro's favourite cars, I'd sat in here countless times but it was always in the other seat. Always the passenger, never the driver. If Alessandro saw me now, I realised he'd be having a fit. This thing had so much power that in the wrong hands it was just plain dangerous. But I wasn't planning on racing it and getting us killed. I just needed to get Olivia to town. I pressed the button for the engine and it started in a feline growl that I felt right through my body. I swallowed down a gulp of air and said a little prayer before putting it into gear and ever so lightly eased my foot off the brake. I tapped the accelerator so lightly that my foot was like a feather brushing the lever and somehow I managed to roll the car from garage to front door where Olivia was already waiting, clutching her overnight bag and looking strained.

I parked and hopped out of the car. "Olivia, I told you to wait in the living room."

But she was a stubborn woman. "I'm here now. Are you sure you know how to drive this thing?"

I shrugged like it was no big deal. "I've been in it dozens of times. It's just a car with a big engine. I'll drive safe."

She nodded and allowed me to help her into the passenger's side after I lay down a couple of towels on the leather seat. By the time I slipped back into the car she was having another contraction.

"Oh god, I don't want to alarm you but these are getting worse," she moaned and I swallowed down the vile, acid tasting panic that insisted on building in the back of my throat.

"Hang in there, Olivia. We'll be there in no time."

I felt thrumming next to my boob but for whatever reason, put it down to the hum of the car and not the fact that my phone was in the process of blowing up with calls. I was too focused on getting us there to think straight. I put the Lambo back into gear and eased it down the driveway, taking advantage of the long distance to the front gate to acquaint myself with the car. The accelerator was so touchy that it took next to no effort on my part to send it from zero to about a million in zero seconds flat. By the time I'd pulled onto the main road, I'd managed to find a happy medium and felt immensely proud of myself. Drive a $900,000 car? No problem. The car did most of the work, hugging each twist and turn with such effortless ease it could have lulled a screaming baby to sleep. That theory would soon be put to the test in a literal sense however, if we didn't hurry up. I shot a glance across at Olivia. Her eyes were closed tight, a clear sheen of sweat forming on her pale brow. Her fingers dug like claws into the leather car seat and she fought down another moan before she flopped back into the seat. I wanted to offer her my hand, my comfort, but I needed every bit of concentration navigating these-

"Oh shit!" All I saw was a flash of orange. I veered the car sideways. Wheels screamed on the bend. We screamed. The tractor that we'd almost ploughed into churned to a halt, the olive farmer jumping out just in time to see the side of Alessandro's precious car painting his stone wall. The scrape of metal on stone bore through my skull, practically liquefying my teeth. I righted the Lamborghini, feeling the thud of my heart against my breast. My ribcage constricted in my chest and choked my lungs. The car roared. Something rattled. I glimpsed an object rolling about on the road behind us. Was that the side mirror? Well, at least I hadn't set off the airbags.

Oh God, Alessandro was going to kill me. Divorce was most likely on my horizon but it was too late to go back now. The next generation was in the process of being born. Olivia wailed her way through another contraction. I reached a straight strip of road and gunned the engine. We hurtled forward faster than the speed of light, gaining us precious time. I slowed us down to take on the next round of bends and turns and flashing lights appeared in my vision. I breathed a sigh.

"Olivia, it's the ambulance."

I pulled up on the side of the road and two ambulance officers leapt out, reeling off a bunch of Italian words that I could barely get my head around. I directed them to Olivia's side of the car and they gently pulled her out and brought her to the ambulance. The woman could hardly stand and collapsed onto the stretcher. The ambulance crew supplied her with oxygen and gave the universal sign for her to breathe. She wheezed through another contraction and when he parted her legs to have a look at how far along she was, I watched the officer pale. The baby was coming. Now.

A low THWUB THWUBTHWUB sounded from somewhere behind us and landed some distance away in what I assumed was a field. I couldn't be sure. It was getting dark. And besides, all I could concentrate on was Olivia. There was no time to think. Just time to react. Whether she liked it or not, Olivia was having this baby right here on the side of the lonely country road. The ambulance medics urged her to breathe, then checking her again, urged her to push.

"Come on Olivia, you can do this!" I said. God, I felt so helpless. I couldn't even fit in the tight space of the ambulance to hold her hand without impeding the medic's work.

The woman pushed. And pushed.

"Olivia!" I barely registered the familiar call. Two tall shadows dodged the slow traffic that passed us on the road, onlookers gawking at the spectacle before moving on toward the town. Luca reached the ambulance just as the tiny screech filled the evening air. I caught sight of a tiny, pink, wailing body before the medic cut the umbilical cord and wrapped it in a bundle of blankets.

"Un ragazzo! Un ragazzo sano," someone cheered.

A healthy baby boy.

I felt my legs go weak. Relief filled my bones and I wavered on my feet, staggering backwards a step. Strong arms swept in from behind and caught me as I fell back into a familiar feeling chest.

"I have you, Lizzie." His breath was warm on my ear. I noted the waver of panic in his voice before I fainted.


I snapped awake sometime later that evening. Bleary-eyed I glanced around a dimly-lit room that was not unfamiliar. It took me a moment to orientate myself. I was back at the villa. Then I recalled the flashing lights of the ambulance. Olivia and the birth. The baby boy. I burst upright in the bed. Olivia! Was she okay?

"Olivia is fine, cara," I heard his gravelly voice and felt my heart sink.

Because I also recalled the Lamborghini.

Alessandro stood from his chair in the corner of the room, setting down the laptop he'd been working at. He stepped up to the edge of the bed, hands stuffed firmly in his pockets. But it was his blue-eyed glare that pinned me in my place. He was furious. I sunk back into the bed, I wasn't wearing any clothes. After we'd flown in a helicopter back to the villa Alessandro had carried me up to the room to rest from the ordeal.

"What were you thinking, Lizzie? Honestly?"

I swallowed. Was that a question he intended for me to answer? Because I had no way of explaining myself.

"Do you know how I felt when my bodyguard burst into Luca's meeting with news of your antics?"

"You would have been pretty horrified, I imagine," I said quietly.

"Lizzie." He slumped to his knees on the bed beside me. "I was terrified. The whole time I was waiting for that stupid helicopter and for the entire flight there, I could think of nothing else but images of you trapped inside that car, crumpled on the side of the road. So I ask you again, what were you thinking?"

Forcing myself from his gaze that I was sure would burn a hole in me, I hung my head, feeling the red streaks form across my cheeks. I really was an idiot.

"I'm sorry." It was all I could say, really, because no other explanation could seem to hack it. I really was a brash, stupid girl. My stupid actions could have gotten me and Olivia killed. The huge gash in the side of the car was a testament that I could barely control it. I glanced back at Alessandro who just sat there, frozen like a statue. His stare hadn't moved a single inch.

"I really am sorry."

Alessandro swallowed. "The thought of seeing you dead..." his voice was so hoarse, his eyes so glassy that I was sure they would burst. "It nearly killed me Lizzie, do you understand?"

"But I didn't die," I said. "I managed to make it to the ambulance in time for Olivia to have the baby. Didn't I?"

Alessandro couldn't deny it. His nod was slow and hesitant.

"If I hadn't, then I would have been delivering that baby here at the house, Alessandro. What would have happened if there were complications?" The tears started and I swiped at them but it was pointless. There were too many. "I'm sorry I scared you, but I was scared too. I was scared I might lose Olivia. I didn't think of anything else, because I couldn't. All I could think of was getting Olivia to the ambulance. I'm sorry your car had to pay the price for it. I'll pay you back for the damage, I promise."

Alessandro's face fell into a frown and he flopped onto the pillow next to me. "I don't care about the car, Lizzie. What I care about is you. You are irreplaceable. Do you understand me?"

I nodded. "I understand. I'm sorry I scared you."

He took my apology and brushed a hand through my messy bed-hair.

"How is Olivia?" I asked and Alessandro nodded.

"She, Luca and the baby are at the hospital. All safe and well."

"How did the meeting go?"

"Linus wanted money. A payment in exchange for his signature on the divorce papers." He looked sick. "He essentially sold Olivia to Luca. But it's all done now, the papers are signed. Luca and Olivia can go ahead and marry."

"Oh, that's both awful and a relief at the same time." I slid back under the sheets.

I heard a chuckle before I felt the bed move and he slipped under the covers beside me. Still fully dressed, Alessandro shuffled himself up against me, running a hand up and down my breasts and stomach. I turned to face him and he planted a firm kiss on my lips.

"Their situation is so messed up Alessandro, let's never complicate our lives like that."

"Mmmhmm." He nodded before coaxing another kiss from me. He seemed more interested in toying with my nipple, watching in fascination the way it tightened and pebbled under his gentle touch.

I sucked in a breath at the sensation that sent hot jolts of electricity across my skin. His own breath grew heavy and I felt the beginning of his steel erection press up against me from beneath his trousers.

"Lizzie, you scared me silly today but I think there is one way you can make it up to me."

"Oh really?" I asked, feeling my pulse quicken as his hand left my breast and began a slow, sensual journey south. His kisses started, following the same path as his hand. A knee cocked and parted my legs before he rolled me on my back and pulled himself on top of me.

"I hope you got all the rest you need, my little temptress, because as punishment I am not letting you sleep a wink tonight."


We flew home the next morning after visiting Olivia and Luca at the hospital. From what I could tell they seemed to be getting along, sharing kisses and cooing over their gorgeous little boy. Little Leonardo – his name inspired from the town where he was born.

Landing back at Alessandro's office, we parted ways with a short kiss. Alessandro had work to catch up on and business calls to make. Phil met me in the main foyer, fresh faced and smiling gently in greeting.

"Drama aside, I trust your stay in Tuscany was a good one, Miss?" he asked.

"It was." I smiled.

"We're thankful to have you back. You have someone special waiting for you at the house."

"Oh?" I said as he held the car door open for me.

"She comes in the small feline variety."

"Kitty!" The squeal escaped and I all but leapt into the back of the Bentley.

My cat was in Rome! Oh how I had missed her!

"How is she?" I asked as Phil slipped behind the wheel.

"You'll get to see for yourself soon."

Naturally, Kitty was beyond mortified by all that she had gone through as of recent. Having no idea what to do with her, the staff had set her up in one of the guest rooms which had made me laugh. Only a billionaire's cat would get her own room complete with an en suite bathroom and views of the gardens. The poor thing had been too afraid to leave her carrier and she just sat in there meowing until I entered the room.

"Kitty. Sweetie, how are you?"

The carrier immediately stopped meowing and I parked myself down on the floor in front of it, my eyes searching the dark space for the frightened golden eyes that stared back at me. I held up my hand for her to sniff and she gave me one more pitiful mew before I managed to coax her out with a cat treat the staff had so kindly picked up for her upon her arrival. I gave the cat a cuddle, finding instant comfort in the fact that I wasn't alone in this strange and alien place anymore.

"I've missed you so much." I choked back a tear and then chuckled as, growing tired of my attention, she struggled from my arms and took to tentatively exploring the space.

I divided my afternoon between spending time with Kitty and sorting through the remainder of my wardrobe which had also arrived. It was all here at Alessandro's expense. By the time Gloria returned with the announcement for dinner, I had just finished integrating what stuff I was keeping into the master bedroom closet. My half of the space was starting to look a little fuller now, though I did note that Alessandro seemed to own enough shirts to practically wear one for every day of the year.

God, he must need an army of staff just to keep on top of the ironing, I mused.

They were all expensive too, and fitted just like his suits. I ran my hand along the sleeve of a pale blue shirt that would make the colour of his eyes pop when he wore it. It was made from the softest silk. One of these things alone was probably worth the equivalent of all the clothing I'd just brought from Australia. I felt my stomach sink, my eyes shooting back across to what I'd only just managed to integrate into the wardrobe. There was no comparison. It was department store sales bin verses specially tailored, designer label stuff. The differences in quality were so vast they might as well have come from different planets. All of my comfy t-shirts, my jeans and my peplums... There was no way they would go down well in this world. I'd be the laughing stock of Rome's social elite as well as a huge embarrassment to Alessandro and the Zingaro family name.

I hung my head, my stomach twisting into knots because it wasn't like my stuff was all that terrible. It was just... not befitting of a billionaire's wife. No one would think me worthy of being his wife. Ever. Even the clothes Alessandro had happily bought me at the vintage-style boutique in Florence, while not being brand name quality, had more ritz and style than this stuff. What was I even thinking bringing it into here? Before I knew it, dinner was forgotten and I was ripping clothes from coat hangers, feeling every little sting as these pieces of old-me were discarded to the floor. I didn't want to cry and I knew it was dumb to think this way, but I couldn't help it; it was like I was slowly being stripped of my own identity and I hated it. I hated that I had to change just to be more socially acceptable to others. I hated that people were still treating me like I was just a passing fancy. Hated the fact that the world would think the worst if our love for each other did happen to manifest in a pregnancy this soon. No thanks to the media, people now thought I was this drunken party girl/gold-digger.

But what about home? Had word of my supposed antics reached my family? I pulled my phone from the back pocket of my jeans and opened up the web browser in search of the Australian tabloids my mum frequented. It came up with one hit - a fresh news article that had only been posted within the past hour, ready for the morning in Australia. The headline read "Billionaire games: Zingaro gets down under his new Australian souvenir." I felt my heart stop, my lungs constricting as all the air escaped them. Because there, in full colour print, were photos of me and Alessandro on the terrace in Florence. It looked as though they had been taken from a neighbouring building and very little could be seen because of the solid balcony wall that covered us from the waist down (for which I could only be thankful for), but that didn't hide the fact that I was sitting on his lap wearing his shirt, my head of post-sex-bed-hair on full display. In one of the photos Alessandro was nibbling on my ear and in the other I was in the process of digging my hands through his hair as he kissed me. Thankfully they hadn't posted anything of us having sex but that didn't mean there weren't photos out there of us. Oh god. If they got out...

I scanned the article, feeling the ice chokehold of panic as it provided in the worst detail the ways in which this billionaire tycoon had been enraptured by the wild ways of this Australian nobody. Getting drunk with him at night clubs, coaxing him into sex on the balcony of his own hotel and driving his Lamborghini outrageously. Our relationship had been blown right out into the public light and sensationalised. Then there was the story of how Alessandro and I met. I had apparently gotten in with him through my association with his father. Giuseppe, which was true. It didn't mention what the nature of that association was but it did imply that we could have been lovers at some point. I felt sick to the core. Utterly devastated. This was Alessandro's father they were talking about. His family!

Then the thought hit me.

Alessandro's family...

What would they think? Alessandro had mentioned the older generation was very conservative. Did my so-called exploits disqualify me from being any sort of candidate for his wife? I gave the news article another glance then had to put it down before I threw up. If Alessandro's family went by what this piece of trash was publicising, then the answer to that was more than obvious. This was worse than a disaster. It was apocalyptic. There was no coming back from this. I'd been branded as Alessandro's Australian plaything. A shiny toy he'd brought back to Italy in order to entertain him. Was this how it was going to be from now on? I make a fool of myself with Alessandro and the media catches it? Could I get anything in this god damn marriage right? Where were the photos of us shopping in Florence and touring the Uffizi holding hands? Why did they have to post the most disgusting, scandalous photos they could find of us?

Right then something in me just snapped and I realised I couldn't do it. I couldn't be Alessandro's scandalous wife anymore. Because no matter what I did, who I was... I couldn't get it right. If I wasn't sensationalising the public with my so-called exploits then I was upsetting Alessandro by getting myself hit on by older men. I couldn't do it. I couldn't live here a minute longer and stay sane. This was beyond ridiculous. I needed to leave. I needed to go home.