The Italian's Proposal

Chapter 8

*—Timothy—*

Timothy looked at the woman lying across from him. She was beautiful in a different way. She had a sparkle in her gaze that had coaxed him ever since he saw her in the coffee shop that morning, her hair such a dark shade just made him conjure up a thousand sexual positions where her black hair fell over them, surrounded, sweaty, wet, it was so exciting to think about, he didn't want to think about what it would be like to make it happen. The girl was practically a mystery to him, he didn't know her at all, and his bruised male ego screamed at him that he didn't want to know her either.

That happened when someone broke our personal and sentimental barriers. There was no longer a single moment in his life where he did not think about the mess he had gotten into with Gia, he had trusted her blindly, for him she was a woman who represented him, who could share his problems and dreams. He had fallen into the net of a crone, one who did not even regret what she had done.

He looked back at Melody, the most innocent and spontaneous young woman he had ever met in his life. He was used to people around him doing and saying what he wanted, but that woman, with her gray eyes and murderous mouth, had shown him that not everyone was a sheep in his world. There were people like her who wouldn't stop at what he wanted, strong people who wouldn't let themselves get wrapped up in his world of money and falsehood.

When she passed out a few hours ago his first instinct was to hold her immediately, the girl was absolutely nothing compared to what she lifted at the gym, or the other women he had been intimate with.

She was different in every way.

But that particularly bothered him. She had to be healthy if she wanted to give birth to a healthy child. It was obvious that Melody had no idea how to be a mother, and this gave Timothy a twinge.

At first when they were in the coffee shop and she called Doyle to report that she had to go check on the baby, Timothy thought it was all a sham, because he couldn't see anything, not an ounce extra, not a shadow on her belly, she was as flat as an ironing board.

His sensor immediately went on and he considered that she was just one of those women who looked for pity in the eyes of others, and that she only wanted, in some way that he did not understand, to get money out of him.

But he had been incredibly surprised by this explosive little woman.

She was self-sufficient and didn't care about his money, at least that he had noticed. She hadn't asked for his help at any time since they had left the coffee shop, instead, she had preferred to stay alone with Troy.

His phone rang at that moment and he left the room and took the call in the hallway.

"Timothy, where are you?" it was his mother.

"Hi mom" he greeted her startled by the call. His mother didn't usually call him unless it was an emergency. He went every Sunday to lunch with them at their mansion away from the noise of the city.

"Son, why didn't you go to the meeting today? You know it was of extreme importance. You kept everyone waiting."

"Who... How...?" Timothy couldn't believe his mother already knew about it.

Contrary to what he had led Melody to believe about the meeting, it was quite important that he attend that meeting, he had even had specific guidelines for over a week not to miss it.

There was a lot at stake in his family, his father had told him so. That morning was the prelude to a million-dollar deal.

And there was the embezzlement.