The Italian's Proposal

13

Timothy

Timothy looked at the picture and wanted to break the head of the detective who was taking a drink of whiskey in front of him.

Undoubtedly it was her, the woman who captivated him in just a few minutes, the one who stood up for every single comment he said to her. He fell into her diabolical game without realizing it, without calculating or analyzing it.

Timothy vowed to himself never again to fall for any other woman, after Gia cheated on him, he fell for Melody, and she betrayed him.

But he would make her regret it.

He looked at the photograph again, there were more than twenty of them, the man was extreme with his work. The detective took out more than six to start with and then he had emptied the whole thing on the desk, as if it were a treasure he found.

He reminded himself that this was what he was paying him so much money for, enough so that he wouldn't have to do any work for more than two months, he knew it was high, but he wanted the job done quickly and efficiently. He was putting together a whole portfolio for Equilay Thompson, but his brain was at that moment beginning to scheme something else, something vastly stronger and more vindictive, a ruse involving a young pregnant girl, an unholy goddess with hair as dark as night and gray eyes.

The woman in the photo was smiling shyly, not as she laughed with him as they went to the clinic the day before. Another picture showed her hugging what the detective explained was her older sister and Thompson's wife. He would recognize that woman anywhere, from the moment he set his eyes on her and heard how she didn't mince words to treat him differently because he had money and she didn't, he knew it was going to be hard to forget and for that reason he didn't have to wait for the detective's explanations.

It was Melody, the same one he kissed last night, the same woman he wanted to fuck on the couch, not caring that she was pregnant by another man. The one who reactivated his desire to trust another human being besides himself.

But she just had been mocking him and his innocence. Laughing at his expense. He didn't doubt that Thompson gave her a piece of the three-million-dollar pie.

How gullible he had been!

He had been fooled by her angelic face and her shy, mischievous look.

She was perfectly chosen to entertain him and make him weak.

And to think that he tried to propose to her to help her and to help himself he felt like throwing up, punching the blunder news giver, and killing Equilay Thompson for ruining his confidence in the world.

"You want me to keep investigating Thompson?" he heard Detective Pedro say.

The robust man had many years working for the company, freelance, evaluating different buyers and investors, not because he distrusted them, but because he was suspicious of the world. It wasn't personal, just as it hadn't been as personal in relation to the theft of the three million dollars. He had, he wanted to make Thompson pay for his theft, for his embezzlement, for his lack of respect and ethics. But before he had all the evidence, he really wanted to know who he was up against, who the man behind the theft was.

For some reason he didn't want to be ruthless. He didn't want to think that Melody influenced his conscience, he didn't want to think it. But the truth was, his inner voice was telling him that she had gotten under his skin, into his head, into his heart, and all in less than 24 hours.

And look how she'd fucked him up!

"No. I've enough. Thank you, Pedro," he shook the hand of the gray-haired detective with the lively blue eyes. "You've been a great help."

"There are more pictures I didn't give you. But I think, from the reaction you've been having to the first ones, that you must not see them."

"I have no reaction."

"You are about to break the desk Mr. Giannatto. This seems to affect you..."

"Shut up and give me the photo, that's what I pay you for, not to play psychologist."

The detective handed over the photo and stood up taking the last drink from his glass.

"I'll see you around. I remain at your disposal, as usual."

Just as he arrived thirty minutes earlier, he left. The only thing was that, on this occasion, for the first time he left Timothy as if a knife pierced his chest.

A pain settled in his thorax. He couldn't identify it, but it was much deeper than what he felt when he found Gia cheating.

He gave himself unwittingly to a stranger.

He looked at the picture the detective gave him last: it showed Melody coming out of the garden and walking toward a point at the other end of the house from Thompson and her sister. The next photograph was Melody running her hand across her cheek, which he assumed to be wiping away tears. His heart softened just for a second, but then he remembered that she knew all along who scammed him and hid it. She kept quiet, keeping a secret that was destroying him and could cost him the management of his company. His head kept thinking that she already knew who he was when he arrived at the coffee shop, he should applaud the performance, it was exceptionally good, instead of studying veterinary medicine as she said she was doing, she should dedicate herself to the theater, because she made him a real drama and he fell for it.

Tapping the intercom on his phone, he spoke to his secretary.

"Cancel everything I have today. If my mother calls, tell her I've got everything taken care of," he was proud of the plan that was coming together in his head.

Everything was going to work out for him. He would look out for his own benefit and forget about considering benefiting Melody and her baby.

She was Thompson's Trojan horse, but he figured it out in time.

He believed she was pregnant only because his longtime friend checked her out, otherwise he would have questioned even her name. Considering she didn't even show a pregnant belly, anything could turn out.

Poor and alone with a baby on the way? Bullshit! He cursed the moment he walked into that coffee shop and like a good gentleman wanted to help a stranger.

"What if her father calls?" asked Johanna.

"I'm at an important lunch. Tell him to leave a message or call me on my cell phone."

Leaving everything arranged for his departure, he cut the communication with Johana and organized the documents, put the photos in the white envelope that Pedro gave them to him in and kept them in the inside of his jacket.

He was going to have a remarkably interesting and productive lunch.

He would get his three million dollars back and he would have a little doll at his whim for long enough to be able to get his inheritance and continue in the management of his company, for which he sacrificed so much. His parents would be pleased with him and his decision.

Melody couldn't imagine who she messed with.

He would make her pay for making a fool of him.

He swore it on his cousin Manello's grave.

He wasn't going to let them see him as a weak man. He was Italian! Pure blood and heat. Possessive and proud. He would not let a brat take advantage and make fun of him in the clear.

She would rue the day she had decided to mock him.