Trillionaires' War

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Isolating myself in my room wasn't going to do me any good. That's what I did for the last couple of days. I wasn't needed in the office like everyone else. So my days consisted of me ignoring Marcus, eating ice cream like a fatass, and watching The Nanny reruns on TVland.

I'm in a two piece blue bikini laying down on the lounge chair by the pool. I figured a little tanning would break me from my boring habits lately.

"You can go home. It's not like I'm going out anytime soon." I tell the devil who leans against the colum as I tan by the pool. I notice how distracted and tense he is as he stares off into the distance. I don't even think he heard me. "What's wrong?" I ask a little loud.

His eyes snap to mine with a frown. There's a burning anger behind them that's easily noticeable from a mile away. "Nothing." He responses in a cold tone.

I wanted to ask him further, but his phone suddenly rings. He doesn't pay me another glance when he answers it immediately. He goes inside for privacy, leaving me with concern and curiosity.

"I shouldn't, right?" I put my weight on my arms. "I mean he could've easily taken the call here." My curiosity gets the best of me. I stand up and quietly make my way inside. The forced whispers come from the kitchen. I step closer and closer, but remain out of sight by the doorway.

"...bugie."(...lies). He whispers harshly. "Tell Francesco to mind his fucking business..." There's a pause. "Then tell Helena to mind her fucking business..." I can hear him trying to contain his anger. "Non vado ... Lui cosa? Quando? ... Se la toccava tanto ... Lasciala fuori ... " (I'm not going... He what? When?...If he so much as touched her... Leave her out of it...) I can't interpret his last words, but he sounds a lot more pissed than usual. I wonder who's Francesco and Helena... I think he mentioned the name Helena before when he was speaking to his mother in Italy. Maybe that's a family member? Maybe Francesco is too? Or... maybe it's another Aribella that his mom wants him with?

There's an eerie silence. For a moment I thought I was caught, but then I heard him whisper. "I'll be there." Before there's a loud clash.

I jump away from the doorway. I definitely don't want to push my luck and get caught. So I run out to the back as fast as I could. I lay down on my lounge chair and pretend like I didn't just spy on him. People say curiosity kills the cat. Well, this cat is on survival mode. You wouldn't poke a hunger tiger and I'm no different.

I close my eyes and pretend like I didn't just eavesdrop. I hear heavy footsteps coming closer until I feel a shadow loom over me, blocking me from the heat of the sun. I open my eyes. "Excuse me." I look up at him. "Can I help you?" I should get an academy award, I sware.

"Remember the night in Italy at the restrauant?"

I sit up, confused at why he's bringing it up now. "Yeah, I met your mom."

"You did, but I remember you coming to me scared. What made you look for me?"

"Oh, that." I nod. "This guy came into the restrauant. He didn't look like he was there for food. He was asking me bizarre questions. Like if I loved to be famous and if I'd do anything for family. It weird me out. The scary part is when he left. There was this guy with a scar on his face. The way he looked at me..." A sudden realization came over me. "Do you think that's my stalker?!"

"No."

I frown taken back by his quick response. "Why are you asking me this now then?"

"No reason."

"You must have a reason."

"I don't." He's too stonic for me to tell if he's lying or not.

"I guess Roberto and Scarface were just creeps then. Italy was definitely not what I-"