Page 15 of Bride of Betrayal
He could still feel the fragility in her body, held against him, reinforcing his impression of vulnerability. He shook his head. An erroneous impression.
As was the notion that her marriage to Aldo was a regret. She’d amassed a fortune through her marriage to that man—Leo’s fortune—and he didn’t expect for one second that she was going to just sign away her rights to it.
But, the following day in a sleek office high above Manhattan, Leo watched Angelica do exactly that. Every piece of paper that was put in front of her with an asterix beside where she had to sign, she signed, without even looking at the rest of the document. She’d refused the offer of having her own legal representation present.
Leo watched her from a corner of the room. She was surrounded by legal assistants, unfazed, her dark hair shining, pulled over one shoulder carelessly, exposing her neck.
She was wearing a loose silk top and jeans. Flat shoes. The luxe/louche uniform of the top model. The papers were full of them today. A front-page splash. Breathless speculation about what it could possibly mean for Angelica to turn up at an event with her new husband…in jeans!
Nothing about the fact that she had been widowed and remarried within an indecently short amount of time. Nothing about Leo’s bid to reclaim what was his. And, he was recognising now, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. As much as he needed to rehabilitate his image, he didn’t necessarily need the scrutiny on his business affairs, the speculation as to how Aldo could have wreaked so much havoc because, with Leo in jail and disgraced, he’d had full control of everything. That was a weakness Leo would never forgive himself for and he didn’t want people speculating that it could happen again.Which it wouldn’t. Ever.So perhaps it was not such a bad thing that Angelica was drawing attention, even if for her controversial sartorial choices.
One of the assistants looked up at Leo. ‘All signed.’
Leo pushed off the window he’d been leaning against and walked over to the table where another assistant was gathering up the documents. His chief legal advisor said, ‘The only other documents to sign are the ones in Rome.’
Ah, yes. The most important legal documents; they hadn’t been ready to sign before they’d left Italy. The documents that related to the fact that it had been Leo who had set up the business. Aldo had tried to change history while in control, naming himself as the brainchild behind Falzone Industries, and changing its name. They would have to return to Rome for that, as Aldo’s legal team was based there.
Perhaps Leo was being complacent in assuming Angelica’s amenability here would be the same in Rome. Maybe that was her plan, to lull him into a false sense of security before hitting him with terms and conditions, which he had fully expected.
But now, she put down the pen and stood up, turning to face him. Nothing in her expression to indicate any nefarious plans. But then she’d always been good at projecting innocence.
‘If you don’t mind, I told a designer friend I’d do a photo shoot for her new collection while I’m in town.’
Leo felt slightly wrong-footed. She wasn’t heading out to lunch. Or to go back and lounge in the apartment. Or going shopping. She was going to work.
‘Of course. We have an event to attend this evening, leaving the apartment at six p.m.’
‘I’ll be back by then.’
‘The driver will take you wherever you need to go and wait for you.’
‘It’s OK, they’ve arranged transport for me. It’s waiting outside.’
Leo was reminded that she’d always valued her independence. Clearly Aldo hadn’t changed that. Something about that heartened him even in the midst of her throwing up contradictions he didn’t like to consider.
‘See you back at the apartment.’
She nodded and left the office, appearing totally unconcerned that she’d just signed away her right to a majority share in Leo’s business. But the real test would be in Rome when she signed the paperwork there because up until that point she could still cause major problems for Leo. So he wasn’t taking anything for granted.
It was shortly after Angelica had left the office that they received word that the rest of the paperwork in Rome was now ready. Leo had his assistant cancel all upcoming plans so they could return to Rome as soon as possible.
Angelica felt that prickle of her conscience again later that evening as she regarded herself in the mirror. What she was wearing now would make what she’d worn the previous night look positively elegant and refined.
She refused to let nerves assail her. She’d already started the process of untangling herself from Aldo’s toxic legacy today by signing away most of what she’d inherited over to Leo. She had no desire for anything that man had touched, or corrupted. Even if she didn’t have her own money, she wouldn’t take a cent. It wasn’t hers.
The rest would happen in Rome—Leo had sent her a text today alerting her that they’d be travelling there the following day, to meet with Aldo’s lawyers. He clearly didn’t fully trust that she wasn’t going to turn around at the eleventh hour tomorrow and lay down demands. He would soon see though. And hopefully that would then be enough to convince him to let her go. To end this farcical marriage. To let her get back to her life. And her family. Once she’d proved that she had no designs on anything of his.
But for now, all she could do was test Leo’s patience again. She tweaked her hair, pulled back into a high ponytail, and stepped into sky-high bright red stilettos. She took a deep breath and went into the main living area where Leo was ready and waiting, in a tuxedo, this time with a white coat and bow tie. He looked so devastatingly gorgeous that it took a second for Angelica to notice that his face had gone red and his eyes were bugging out of his head.
Sounding choked, he said, ‘What is that?’
‘It’s a dress.’ Even Angelica winced at that. Itwastechnically a dress but she could appreciate that it might defy such a banal description.
Leo felt as if his eyeballs were burning. Certainly Angelica’s image would be forever branded onto his brain. A dress, she’d said? He would have laughed if he’d been capable. But right now he was in the eye of a storm that gripped him on so many levels he couldn’t think straight.
He had impressions. Red. Lace. Defying gravity.Naked.Outrageous. He tried to be rational, to formulate his thoughts. Piece together what he was looking at. He knew he wasn’t exactly sartorially experimental, so maybe he was being too hasty.
The…dress…did obey some conventions. Material clung to Angelica’s breasts—how? Leo didn’t even want to know because it looked as if the lace was spray-painted onto those perfectly shaped orbs of flesh. He could see the thrust of her nipples and blood went straight to his groin.
