THE BRIDE - By Shaxee
Chapter 31
Advice is like snow – the softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the deeper in sinks into the mind. -Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Marco Orsini’s POV
“Are you going to frown, glare and grimace all day here in my office or you’re going to tell me what’s going on?”
The irritating question came from Lucca Cavelli—the high mighty Duke of Caprielle. I should have known
that coming here was futile he can’t help me with my problem.
“What?” The duke inquired again when I remained silent. “Are you going to stare at me all day? Oh, wait
—do you have crush on me, Marco?”
“Funny, Your Excellency.” I replied acidly, glowering in his direction. “If you ever get tired of playing the CEO of your business you should try to be a comedic actor.”
Lucca didn’t take my sarcastic comment seriously. He merely laughed.
“Really, amico. What’s wrong? Why are you in such a bad mood today? Remember earlier in my marriage I had jealousy problems with my wife. You advised me with that sarcastic wit of yours, maybe it’s time for me to return the favor.”
I sighed deeply as I remembered why I went to his office early this morning. If I only had a solution to this problem of mine I would not seek for his d--n advice.
“I have a question.” I started.
“Fire away.” He said gamely. “I will gladly to help you with your love life, amico.”
How I want so badly to strangle this egotistical duke but I stopped myself from doing so. I shifted in my position across from him. Still trying to look sanguine about the whole situation, when in truth I am about to reveal a piece of information about my relationship with a certain maddening woman. after our encounter in my grandparent’s drawing room—after I poured out my heart’s content to her—what reply did I get from her?
Stop playing games with me, Marco. That is not funny. She replied with hurt in her pretty eyes. The nerve of that woman. I had confessed to her as I never did to any woman before yet she didn’t believe me.
It’s bloody insulting! And before I could comprehend her answer to me she runs off from the room leaving me staring after her as she escapes.
“So a friend of mine has a problem with a woman.” I said after a moment, trying not to flinch at the intense gray eyes that were busy studying me.
A small smile fitted the duke’s face. “Who is this friend of yours, Marco? Do I know him?”
“No.” I replied hastily, avoiding his knowing gaze. “You didn’t know him.”
“Are you sure?” Lucca prodded, while he kept studying me. “How odd I thought we shared the same circle of friends, Marco.”
“Not this one.”
“Is that so?” My good friend and sometimes pain in the backside asked maddeningly. “So what is his problem, amico?”
Do I really have to do this? I asked myself silently. I suddenly want to back out from my plan in discreetly asking for his d--n advice. But what choice do I have? He’s happily married to his wife and has children of his own now. I am sure he can help me in handling a stubborn woman.
I took a deep breath and gamble to this plan I think will work out. “This friend of mine has a problem with a woman. You see, he just confessed to the woman that he loves her but the woman thinks he’s just playing pranks with her.”
Lucca cocked an arrogant eyebrow in my direction. I don’t think I like the tilt of his eyebrows. “Why do you think the woman doesn’t believe his declaration of love?”
I shrugged. I have asked that question a million times of myself since my grandfather’s birthday celebration. “I don’t know. Maybe because the man was a womanizer before.”
Like you? His eyes said silently. “Then the woman has the right to doubt the sincerity of your friend, Marco.” Lucca answered mildly, playing with his pen. “If your friend proved to be a playboy before, of course any woman will have reservations.”
“But he's changed his playboy ways now!” I said so passionately that Lucca’s eyes glinted with laughter. “I mean—”
“I know what you mean, amico.” The duke answered with laughter still visible in his eyes. Oh, how I want to smack that laughter away from his eyes.
“You do?” My eyes narrowed at him. If I didn’t know better I would assume he’s playing games with me.
“Sì.” He replied with a private smile. “Tell your friend that he can’t win the woman he loves with a single ‘I love you’ you have to win her heart as well.”
I frowned. Win her heart? How can I win her elusive heart? That’s too d--n difficult when the woman is Francesca Marcolini. “But France—I mean the girl’s heart is carved of the coldest ice.”
Lucca smiled a little. “Then if I were you I will show France-I-Mean-The-Girl how much she means to me.”
I glared at him darkly. “I told you that’s my friend’s dilemma not mine.”
“Oh, right…” The annoying duke added, preventing his lips from smiling like an idiot. “…your friend,
sorry, my bad.”
I am sorely tempted to tell him what I really feel about him. But I calm myself. You can survive this, Marco. I reassured myself silently, without killing your good friend.
“What do you suggest he should do?” I asked after I thought I was calm enough to continue my conversation with him.
Lucca shrugged. “Why not tell him court her?”
“Court?”
“Yes, have a courtship.” The duke said dryly, his silver eyes held a dare in their profound depth. When I just stared at him blankly he added. “Amico, courtship means the act, period, or art of seeking the love of someone with intent to marry.”
“But what if he’s not into romantic stuffs?”
Lucca smiled like a man who had experienced everything in the name of courtship. “Ah, he has to go great lengths in order to win the heart of the woman he loves. If your friend is really serious about his intentions—that is.”
If I need to court Francesca so she can admit that she also loves me—I know she love me. Because a woman will not give her body to a man repeatedly if she didn’t feel something for him. Then I will court her until she surrenders everything to me body and soul. Until she finally agrees to marry me and share her life with me.
“That’s quite a smile you got there.” Lucca dragged me out of my reverie.
“You know what?” I casually said to him standing from my chair. “I think I'd better go. I have lots of things to do.”
I was about to escape him when I heard him say before I exited the door. “Be sure to invite me to your wedding, Marco.”
Goddamnit in hell, he’s really sharp.
Tatiana Cavelli’s POV
“Are you really sure about this, Signora?” I asked softly of the elderly woman beside me as we both hide in the newspapers that were buried in our nose watching Laila Fiorenza through the glass window inside the posh boutique. “What if she realizes that we’re following her?”
“Yes,” She whispered back softly. “We’ve been following her quite awhile now. I am sure she doesn’t suspect anything.”
I sighed and continued to spy on the woman who dresses in pure black. One thing I had learned about the woman upon following her discreetly like a common stalker was her avid favor for the color black for her outfits. She wasn’t like a Goth girl or something, her makeup was like any other woman you'd collide with on the streets. In my opinion she’s quite pretty in black; it only accentuates her unusual green eyes the color of leaves during spring.
“Remind me again, ma’am, why are we following her?” I eyed the elderly woman who had gone too far with this spying thing with her outfits, a chic trench coat, ankle length leather boots and a black floppy hat with a small brim. Compared to her stylish outfit for the spying job, I felt like an old aunt with skinny jeans and turtle neck top.
“We need to investigate this woman and her relationship with Marco.” Signora Claudia Orsini said behind the newspaper. “And if she is a real threat to Marco and Francesca’s upcoming wedding.”
I shook my head in resignation. It was no doubt where Marco got his stubborn side not to mention the scheming and deviousness. This woman was really sure that there would be a wedding to take place between Marco and Francesca.
“What if she’s a real threat, Signora?” I asked the woman while I glanced at her personal chauffeur who stared at us like we’re two crazy people in the middle of the fashion district of Rome. Thank God, we used her trusted driver. If we had used my driver, chances of him reporting to Lucca about this stunt was exuberantly high.
Claudia Orsini glared at me as if that’s the most absurd thing she had heard. “Then, I need to pair off this woman with some of my friends’ grandsons who are all fine young men.”
“Has anyone ever told you before, ma’am, that you are quite scary with your matchmaking skills?”
“A woman needs to work if she wants great-grandchildren, girl.” She said with a youthful grin on her face. “You are lucky that I hadn’t met you before you married the duke or I'd have paired you with a fine young man.”
“Lucca is a fine young man.” I told her defensively. Honestly, I couldn’t think of a better husband than Lucca Cavelli. The love of my life.
“Oh, yes.” The woman answered somewhat apologetically. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean it like it sounded, Tatiana.”
“It’s okay.” I smiled at the woman, glancing at our subject. “Oh! Quick, she’s already finished. She’s about to go out, Signora.”
We folded our newspaper hastily and ran to the waiting black Audi. People gave us weird stares but Claudia Orsini took no notice. We just made it in time to hide in the car before Laila Fiorenza exited the boutique.
Ever since I met Claudia Orsini and agreed to help her with her quest, my simple life with my husband and my babies turned into an everyday adventure.
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