Venice Nights
Venice Nights (His Submissive #4.5)(16)
Author: Ava Claire
“That’s not true and you know it!” I snapped, whipping to face the woman. “I’ve been nothing but kind and respectful to you and all that’s done is nearly getting an innocent girl fired.”
“Innocent?” Isabella shook her head like a parent scolding a misbehaving child. “She’s about as innocent as you are.”
“And what is that supposed to—”
“Enough!” Jacob roared, his deep voice silencing our argument. Everything that was not nailed down trembled. I had seen the look on his face before; the darkness in his glare, the disgust in the snarl in his lips. It was the look he had when he found out that I betrayed him by striking a deal with Rachel Laraby.
“Blanka is not fired, Isabella,” Jacob said, sounding each word out, like he was trying to make her understand that it was no longer under debate.
Isabella did not relent. “But—”
“Leave us.”
I did not turn my eyes from Jacob, but I felt every dagger Isabella had thrown at me before she stomped from the room, slamming the door behind her.
Once we were alone I exhaled, the toxicity level dropping until I did not feel like I was about to step into a boxing ring. Jacob had also visibly relaxed, the angry lines in his face easing.
I came forward, reaching for him with a smile. “Thanks.”
He dismissed my touch, maintaining the distance between us. “I told you to stay out of it, Leila.”
I jutted my lip stubbornly. “You know me, Jacob. I’m not gonna stand by while someone gets fired because they served breakfast at 10:05 instead of 10. And not to mention—”
“Stop talking.”
My lips curled into a snarl. “Excuse me? We’re not in the bedroom. You can’t just—”
“Actually, I can,” he said darkly. “Isabella is in charge in my absence. Period.”
My lips worked double time, but I did not know what to say. How could he side with her, or even give someone that evil power in the first place? There was more to this. More to them. There had to be.
“What’s the story with you and Isabella?”
The look of pure rage that streaked across his face made my stomach drop.
“That’s none of your business.” He circled his desk and stopped at the chair, lowering himself. He flipped open a leather organizer, eyes on its contents.
"That’ll be all, Miss Montgomery."
Anger choked me, but I clenched my jaw, turning on my heels. I paused at the door. Maybe he did not have anything left to say to me, but I was not done.
"Thank you, m’lord," I said sarcastically. His eyes rose to meet mine as I bowed at the waist.
I snapped upright and left the door wide open, storming toward the bedroom.
I need to get out of the house, I thought, finding my purse. Before I say something I’ll regret.
Chapter Nine
I ducked my head to my chest as I stepped out of the cab, then snapped it back in place when I remembered I was alone. No Jacob to scope out the area, making sure there were no photogs.
I glanced over the rim of my Ray-bans, eyes sweeping the area. Unless paparazzi were using kids to do their dirty work, the coast was clear.
I paused in the street, watching them play on the cobblestone. A soccer ball skittered in front of me, stopping within my reach. I leaned down and picked it up, holding it out to a boy that barely reached my thighs.
“Grazie,” he grinned, taking the ball and going back to his game.
I watched the children play a little while longer, then turned toward the cafe, only to stop again. A group of men were huddled around a small iron table a few feet from me, playing checkers. They murmured back and forth, probably trading barbs. So at ease, at home.
My eyes shot to the corner, a florist outside consulting with an older woman. The customer paid no mind to the rest of the world; inspecting sunflowers and whispering to them like they kept her secrets.
Everything was so blissfully relaxed—and in my sweatshirt, flowered scarf, and harried expression, I stuck out like a sore thumb.
The street around me was so effortlessly beautiful, like the lazy blades of a pinwheel. I was so busy trying to be invisible that I missed the magic all around me. I was so nervous about the paps dominating my life that I was forgetting to actually live.
I closed my eyes, inhaling, then exhaling, letting the air wash over me.
“Beautiful day, no?” A familiar voice murmured behind me.
I whirled toward it and threw my arms around Allegra’s neck, squeezing tight.
“It’s so good to see you, Al!”
After I nearly squeezed all the air from her lungs, she held me at arm’s length. She cupped my cheek and I closed my eyes, the gentle touch reminding me of my mother’s touch. Making me miss home and normalcy.
My eyes sprung open. My hood had fallen, my scarf askew.
I yanked away from her, snatching the hood back up.
Her dark eyebrows rose. “I’d ask if you were okay, but that’s an unnecessary question, isn’t it?”
I fiddled with the drawstring of my hoodie. “I am okay.” I could not hold up the ruse, my face crumbling.
Her arms brought me back in for a second hug, letting me cry on her shoulder. I breathed in her smell; the warmth of leather and soap with a hint of flowers. When the tears slowed to a trickle, I pulled back, wiping my eyes. I was not sure what to expect when I looked up at her. Would I find sympathy in her dark eyes, considering she had been in my position years ago, but the Whitmore she loved chose someone else? How sympathetic would she be given I got my happily ever after and was crying about it?
My eyes skimmed the lines of Allegra’s face, the creases deepening in her forehead. Her green eyes were narrowed in…concern! I breathed a sigh of relief.
A wary smile fluttered across her lips as she steered me inside the cafe. “Let’s get some caffeine in our bellies and you can tell me what’s going on.”
When I stepped into the cafe, my face fell. I had expected something a little more rustic, considering the quaint exterior of the building. It was painted a muted gray that matched the cloudy sky, and scuffed wooden tables marked the outside. Gathered around those tables were modestly dressed patrons, sipping their drinks.
Now inside the restaurant, I felt severely underdressed.
The interior of the cafe was contemporary and warm with long, mahogany tables meant for family-style seating. The tabletops were covered with white linen and flowers, probably from the florist at the corner. The walls were lined with black and white abstract photographs. There was a large serving station past the tables. The area behind it was covered in a variety of spices and teas and coffee beans, a wait staff dressed in head-to-toe black, taking orders.