THE BRIDE - By Shaxee
Chapter 11
Plan the sale when you plan the advertisement. - Leo Burnett
Marco Orsini’s POV
“Don’t you have better things to do than to slouch here in my office this morning?”
The dry comment that dragged me out of my reverie came from my best friend, the duke, Don Lucca Cavelli.
I scowled at him. “Can’t I visit a good friend of mine at my free time?”
“Visit?” The duke repeated mockingly, without even lifting his eyes from the paperwork he’s been so busy reading. “I’m sure you have a million better things to do than visit me, Marco.”
“Ouch.” I said theatrically, placing both my hands on my chest. “You wound me.”
“Really, mon amico.” Lucca managed to drag his eyes from the boring papers he’d been reading. “What’s the catch? Why are you here? You are not the type of person who will slouch here in my office for nothing.” “I’m just bored, Your Royal Highness.” I answered a little defensively.
In truth, it’s been a whole week since the luncheon Francesca and I attended and since then the icy widow has managed to dodge me.
The real reason I visited Lucca was to discreetly inquire about that maddening woman’s whereabouts without the duke suspecting anything about my association with the cold woman. Dio, if I didn’t know better I would think that she’s reduced me to one of her lapdogs.
“Bored?” I heard the duke repeat sarcastically. “If you’re bored to tears why don’t you call your mistress and do something that you will both enjoy.”
I frowned and stretched my legs forward. “I don’t have a mistress at the moment.”
“You don’t have what?” Lucca gaped at me. Astonishment was visible on his aristocratic face. “Care to repeat that, amico? I think I didn’t hear you right.”
I shifted my position in the leather chair as I tried to remain unruffled from my unexpected slip of tongue. I took a deep breath.
“I said I am not currently attached to anyone.”
“When?”
“When what?”
“When was the last time you had a mistress?” Lucca asked without missing a heartbeat looking me straight in the eyes.
“Does it matter?”
“When?” The duke repeated his question. From the look on his face it seems that he will not leave this topic unless I answered him. I cursed myself silently. “When was the last time you had a mistress, Marco?”
I swore loudly.
“About the time we rescued your wife from that psycho ex-fiancé of hers in Las Vegas.”
Lucca Cavelli’s eyes widened.
“That long?”
“It’s not that long.” I answered defensively, looking away from his scrutinizing gaze. “I’ve just been busy that’s all—hey, what’s with that look?”
“Nothing,” The duke said casually, returning his eyes to the paper in his hands. “Now I understand.” “Understand what?” I gave him a thunderous glare.
The duke sighed without lifting his eyes from the blasted papers.
“What you are experiencing now is just
pure sexual frustration. I never thought I would witness the day that you will lack a supply of women, amico.”
My eyebrows shot upward as I shifted in my position.
“Excuse me, Your Excellency. Let me make this clear to you. I don’t have a lack of supply of women, I just took a break from them.”
“Yeah,” Lucca agreed cheerfully, grinning from ear to ear which made me want to strangle him with my bare hands. “You took a break from them for half a year. I didn’t know that you could be celibate that long.” “Think what you like, Lucca.” I growled at him darkly.
“You know what,” The duke ignored my dark mood and opened his drawer and pulled what looked like a ticket. “I have a solution to your problem. It’s tonight.”
“What is this?” I looked at the offered ticket in my hand.
“My wife created a foundation for her late father for the benefit of the orphaned in Moscow, tonight there will be a ball. A charity auction.”
I shook my head. “I’m not interested.” I placed back the ticket on the duke’s glass table.
I have had enough of this charity thing. The last time I attended one I donated half a million Euros to have that cold-hearted woman agree to help me with my quest.
Lucca glared at me insolently. “What kind of friend are you? You won’t even help my wife at her charity event? I think you will like it. It’s a bachelorette auction.”
“Not interested.” The duke sighed deeply. “Your donation will be valuable, Marco. Plus my wife would be extremely happy if you help. Hell, even Francesca agreed to help.”
Now that he mentioned that name I suddenly became interested.
“Oh? How would she help? Will the ice queen personally select the bachelorette that are to be auctioned?” This must be the reason she hasn’t contacted me this week even once. A single phone call to inquire if I am still breathing, the reason was she’s busy with this event.
Damn, why do I feel I am acting like a love sick fool?
“Actually no,” I heard the duke reply, rubbing his jaw as if forcing himself not to smile. “Quite the opposite, in fact. She’s one of the bachelorette.”
“What!” I abruptly stood, as if someone had just lit a firecracker in my chair. “What did you just say?”
“There’s no need to shout, Marco.” Lucca said casually unruffled by my outburst. “I’d be stunned if they didn’t hear you all the way down in the lobby.”
“Did you just—”
“Yes,” Lucca smiled maddeningly as he played with his fountain pen enjoying my reaction. “Kind- hearted friend, isn’t she? She agreed to help my wife for this event.”
“Did your wife plan all of this?” Every cell in my body was out for blood.
The duke shook his head. “It was a last minute decision when one of the bachelorette backed out of her modeling assignment this week. Francesca stepped in.”
She volunteered herself to be auctioned? The thought was bloody frustrating. “You know what, Lucca?” I heard myself say with barely controlled rage. “I think I’ve changed my mind. I will help the duchess with her charity work.”
I am shocked to see that my hands were quite steady when I tucked the ticket in the breast pocket of my coat. “I’ll see you tonight.”
I will kill anyone who will bid even a single centavo on Francesca Marcolini with my bare hands.
Even if I need to manslaughter everyone inside the ballroom tonight. So be it.
Francesca Marcolini’s POV
How far will you go to help a friend? The question that started all this kept playing inside my head repeatedly as I stood at the backstage of the grand ball room of the Rostov Hotel.
My heart was thundering inside my ribcage while my legs were like jelly. The charity auction was progressing smoothly yet my nerves were shaking.
Even though I am resplendent in my full glory I couldn’t help but feel unsure with the other bachelorettes to be auctioned. From supermodels to socialites, they all look like goddesses that came from the ancient Rome. Next to them I feel old and unattractive.
What madness had possessed Tatiana to think that I could contend with these beauties?
“Francesca!” I smiled at the very pregnant Tatiana Cavelli approaching me.
“This is the worst thing you have ever done to me, Your Excellency.” I told her as I accepted her hug.
“You’ll keep.” The duchess beamed. “By the way, you look gorgeous. I am sure you will be one of the highest paid for the auction.”
“You do know how to make me feel better.”
“Trust me, Francesca.” Tatiana said proudly. You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. Men will drool over you when they see you later.”
I gave a shaky laugh. “You’ve got some imagination, dear.”
“Pardon, Your Excellency.” One of the staff said. “But we need your opinion, ma’am.”
“Excuse me, Francesca. But I need to do my duty, all right?”
I laughed. “Don’t mind me, dear.”
I watched the very confident Duchess of Caprielle walk away with the staff who is probably reporting on the progress of the ball. She is now really capable in her surrounding, very different from the wallflower heiress I met over a year ago.
“We’re about to start.” One of the organizers said.
My nerves spiked up again. I took a deep breath. I can do this, I told myself. The first one to be auctioned was the redhead bombshell that turned every head in her direction as she walked.
As one by one the ladies went up to the stage and were auctioned to single men for a one night date. And then my time arrived, after that woman on the stage I will be facing my fate.
As I stood waiting for my number to be called by the host I realized one thing. It is one thing to let yourself be auctioned but it was an entirely different thing to be the lowest price to be sold. It was mortifying.
“Excuse me,” I asked the passing staff. “What is the highest bid for a sold bachelorette?”
“Two hundred thousand Euros.” Oh, God, I thought dreadfully. “The lowest?”
“Two thousand.” If I could only get 2,100 Euros I would be fine.
“….please welcome candidate number 16. Francesca Marcolini.” The host said over the microphone.
My legs nearly gave me away. I was shaking badly as I walked to the center of the stage. I couldn’t hear the background about me the host had been promoting to the guests inside the ball room.
“Two thousand!” Someone shouted. Wow, not bad.
“Three thousand!” Someone shouted on the other side.
“Four!”
“Ten!”
“Ten thousand.” The host repeated, asking for any bid other than that amount.
“Fifteen!” the guy in the front said. I’d settle for that amount.
“Fifteen thousand, gents.” The host said. “Any more bids?”
“One million Euros!”
The entire ball room fell completely silent as the spotlight searched for the person who just spoke that astonishing amount. I could feel my heart galloping in my chest as I recognized the familiar voice.
Please don’t let him be that guy, I prayed earnestly.
“One million Euros, for that woman!.” He spoke again, finally the spotlight found him leaning casually on the far end wall of the ball room.
His stance was relaxed but I could see the tension in his body as well as the defiance in his magnificent eyes. “One million.” The host swallowed and finally recovered from his shock. “Any bid other than that?”
The room was still stunned at the bid of this crazy man.
“Going one, going twice? Sold. Candidate number sixteen sold for one million Euros.”
The crowd gasped and murmured to themselves at the turn of events.
While I took no notice of them my gaze was fixed solely on the man who might be considered the devil himself and right now he looks like one ready to claim his purchase.
He started to advance to the stage. My instinct told me to run but I couldn’t move my legs.
“Mine,” Marco Orsini said once he reached the stage, his eyes held hellfire in their depth. “You are now mine, Francesca.”
Without any notice he swung me on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and gave the audience something they will talk about for a decade.
Oh, God. Someone had just awakened the slumbering beast.
But who was it?
My last vision of the upside down ballroom before Marco Orsini marched down the stage was the triumph in Tatiana’s eyes for the enormous amount.
http://jk.sixfigureincome.com
Plan the sale when you plan the advertisement. - Leo Burnett
Marco Orsini’s POV
“Don’t you have better things to do than to slouch here in my office this morning?”
The dry comment that dragged me out of my reverie came from my best friend, the duke, Don Lucca Cavelli.
I scowled at him. “Can’t I visit a good friend of mine at my free time?”
“Visit?” The duke repeated mockingly, without even lifting his eyes from the paperwork he’s been so busy reading. “I’m sure you have a million better things to do than visit me, Marco.”
“Ouch.” I said theatrically, placing both my hands on my chest. “You wound me.”
“Really, mon amico.” Lucca managed to drag his eyes from the boring papers he’d been reading. “What’s the catch? Why are you here? You are not the type of person who will slouch here in my office for nothing.” “I’m just bored, Your Royal Highness.” I answered a little defensively.
In truth, it’s been a whole week since the luncheon Francesca and I attended and since then the icy widow has managed to dodge me.
The real reason I visited Lucca was to discreetly inquire about that maddening woman’s whereabouts without the duke suspecting anything about my association with the cold woman. Dio, if I didn’t know better I would think that she’s reduced me to one of her lapdogs.
“Bored?” I heard the duke repeat sarcastically. “If you’re bored to tears why don’t you call your mistress and do something that you will both enjoy.”
I frowned and stretched my legs forward. “I don’t have a mistress at the moment.”
“You don’t have what?” Lucca gaped at me. Astonishment was visible on his aristocratic face. “Care to repeat that, amico? I think I didn’t hear you right.”
I shifted my position in the leather chair as I tried to remain unruffled from my unexpected slip of tongue. I took a deep breath.
“I said I am not currently attached to anyone.”
“When?”
“When what?”
“When was the last time you had a mistress?” Lucca asked without missing a heartbeat looking me straight in the eyes.
“Does it matter?”
“When?” The duke repeated his question. From the look on his face it seems that he will not leave this topic unless I answered him. I cursed myself silently. “When was the last time you had a mistress, Marco?”
I swore loudly.
“About the time we rescued your wife from that psycho ex-fiancé of hers in Las Vegas.”
Lucca Cavelli’s eyes widened.
“That long?”
“It’s not that long.” I answered defensively, looking away from his scrutinizing gaze. “I’ve just been busy that’s all—hey, what’s with that look?”
“Nothing,” The duke said casually, returning his eyes to the paper in his hands. “Now I understand.” “Understand what?” I gave him a thunderous glare.
The duke sighed without lifting his eyes from the blasted papers.
My eyebrows shot upward as I shifted in my position.
“Excuse me, Your Excellency. Let me make this clear to you. I don’t have a lack of supply of women, I just took a break from them.”
“Yeah,” Lucca agreed cheerfully, grinning from ear to ear which made me want to strangle him with my bare hands. “You took a break from them for half a year. I didn’t know that you could be celibate that long.” “Think what you like, Lucca.” I growled at him darkly.
“You know what,” The duke ignored my dark mood and opened his drawer and pulled what looked like a ticket. “I have a solution to your problem. It’s tonight.”
“What is this?” I looked at the offered ticket in my hand.
“My wife created a foundation for her late father for the benefit of the orphaned in Moscow, tonight there will be a ball. A charity auction.”
I shook my head. “I’m not interested.” I placed back the ticket on the duke’s glass table.
I have had enough of this charity thing. The last time I attended one I donated half a million Euros to have that cold-hearted woman agree to help me with my quest.
Lucca glared at me insolently. “What kind of friend are you? You won’t even help my wife at her charity event? I think you will like it. It’s a bachelorette auction.”
“Not interested.” The duke sighed deeply. “Your donation will be valuable, Marco. Plus my wife would be extremely happy if you help. Hell, even Francesca agreed to help.”
Now that he mentioned that name I suddenly became interested.
“Oh? How would she help? Will the ice queen personally select the bachelorette that are to be auctioned?” This must be the reason she hasn’t contacted me this week even once. A single phone call to inquire if I am still breathing, the reason was she’s busy with this event.
Damn, why do I feel I am acting like a love sick fool?
“Actually no,” I heard the duke reply, rubbing his jaw as if forcing himself not to smile. “Quite the opposite, in fact. She’s one of the bachelorette.”
“What!” I abruptly stood, as if someone had just lit a firecracker in my chair. “What did you just say?”
“There’s no need to shout, Marco.” Lucca said casually unruffled by my outburst. “I’d be stunned if they didn’t hear you all the way down in the lobby.”
“Did you just—”
“Yes,” Lucca smiled maddeningly as he played with his fountain pen enjoying my reaction. “Kind- hearted friend, isn’t she? She agreed to help my wife for this event.”
“Did your wife plan all of this?” Every cell in my body was out for blood.
The duke shook his head. “It was a last minute decision when one of the bachelorette backed out of her modeling assignment this week. Francesca stepped in.”
She volunteered herself to be auctioned? The thought was bloody frustrating. “You know what, Lucca?” I heard myself say with barely controlled rage. “I think I’ve changed my mind. I will help the duchess with her charity work.”
I am shocked to see that my hands were quite steady when I tucked the ticket in the breast pocket of my coat. “I’ll see you tonight.”
I will kill anyone who will bid even a single centavo on Francesca Marcolini with my bare hands.
Even if I need to manslaughter everyone inside the ballroom tonight. So be it.
Francesca Marcolini’s POV
How far will you go to help a friend? The question that started all this kept playing inside my head repeatedly as I stood at the backstage of the grand ball room of the Rostov Hotel.
My heart was thundering inside my ribcage while my legs were like jelly. The charity auction was progressing smoothly yet my nerves were shaking.
Even though I am resplendent in my full glory I couldn’t help but feel unsure with the other bachelorettes to be auctioned. From supermodels to socialites, they all look like goddesses that came from the ancient Rome. Next to them I feel old and unattractive.
What madness had possessed Tatiana to think that I could contend with these beauties?
“Francesca!” I smiled at the very pregnant Tatiana Cavelli approaching me.
“This is the worst thing you have ever done to me, Your Excellency.” I told her as I accepted her hug.
“You’ll keep.” The duchess beamed. “By the way, you look gorgeous. I am sure you will be one of the highest paid for the auction.”
“You do know how to make me feel better.”
“Trust me, Francesca.” Tatiana said proudly. You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. Men will drool over you when they see you later.”
I gave a shaky laugh. “You’ve got some imagination, dear.”
“Pardon, Your Excellency.” One of the staff said. “But we need your opinion, ma’am.”
“Excuse me, Francesca. But I need to do my duty, all right?”
I laughed. “Don’t mind me, dear.”
I watched the very confident Duchess of Caprielle walk away with the staff who is probably reporting on the progress of the ball. She is now really capable in her surrounding, very different from the wallflower heiress I met over a year ago.
“We’re about to start.” One of the organizers said.
My nerves spiked up again. I took a deep breath. I can do this, I told myself. The first one to be auctioned was the redhead bombshell that turned every head in her direction as she walked.
As one by one the ladies went up to the stage and were auctioned to single men for a one night date. And then my time arrived, after that woman on the stage I will be facing my fate.
As I stood waiting for my number to be called by the host I realized one thing. It is one thing to let yourself be auctioned but it was an entirely different thing to be the lowest price to be sold. It was mortifying.
“Excuse me,” I asked the passing staff. “What is the highest bid for a sold bachelorette?”
“Two hundred thousand Euros.” Oh, God, I thought dreadfully. “The lowest?”
“Two thousand.” If I could only get 2,100 Euros I would be fine.
“….please welcome candidate number 16. Francesca Marcolini.” The host said over the microphone.
My legs nearly gave me away. I was shaking badly as I walked to the center of the stage. I couldn’t hear the background about me the host had been promoting to the guests inside the ball room.
“Two thousand!” Someone shouted. Wow, not bad.
“Three thousand!” Someone shouted on the other side.
“Four!”
“Ten!”
“Ten thousand.” The host repeated, asking for any bid other than that amount.
“Fifteen!” the guy in the front said. I’d settle for that amount.
“Fifteen thousand, gents.” The host said. “Any more bids?”
“One million Euros!”
The entire ball room fell completely silent as the spotlight searched for the person who just spoke that astonishing amount. I could feel my heart galloping in my chest as I recognized the familiar voice.
Please don’t let him be that guy, I prayed earnestly.
“One million Euros, for that woman!.” He spoke again, finally the spotlight found him leaning casually on the far end wall of the ball room.
His stance was relaxed but I could see the tension in his body as well as the defiance in his magnificent eyes. “One million.” The host swallowed and finally recovered from his shock. “Any bid other than that?”
The room was still stunned at the bid of this crazy man.
“Going one, going twice? Sold. Candidate number sixteen sold for one million Euros.”
The crowd gasped and murmured to themselves at the turn of events.
While I took no notice of them my gaze was fixed solely on the man who might be considered the devil himself and right now he looks like one ready to claim his purchase.
He started to advance to the stage. My instinct told me to run but I couldn’t move my legs.
“Mine,” Marco Orsini said once he reached the stage, his eyes held hellfire in their depth. “You are now mine, Francesca.”
Without any notice he swung me on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and gave the audience something they will talk about for a decade.
Oh, God. Someone had just awakened the slumbering beast.
But who was it?
My last vision of the upside down ballroom before Marco Orsini marched down the stage was the triumph in Tatiana’s eyes for the enormous amount.
http://jk.sixfigureincome.com
