Venice Nights (His Submissive #4.5)(26)
Author: Ava Claire

When she turned back around, continuing toward the kitchen, Jacob exchanged a look with me. It was a look of regret and wariness.

"It’ll be fine," I mouthed and hurried after Allegra. I was lying—I did not know if it would be fine. I would not know until Allegra made her way into the kitchen where Isabella was helping Blanka organize the pantry.

When Allegra did not let out some sort of screech, I knew that we still had a few more seconds. I followed her into the kitchen.

Blanka had paused at the counter, mid-stack. There was a row of can goods on the counter. Her eyes registered surprise that ironed away when she saw me.

Allegra extended her hand. "I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Allegra."

Blanka shook her hand eagerly, then slowed, working the name around in her mouth. All eyes shifted to the door of the pantry as an ear splitting boom filled the room.

Allegra’s olive complexion went ashen.

Isabella stormed from the pantry, plowing through a sea of overturned containers. Her skin was the opposite from pale. She was bright red, chest heaving up and down. Like she was a bull in an arena—and had a matador in her sights.

"You."

Allegra jerked back like Isabella had slapped her, looking back and forth between me and Jacob. The betrayal in her eyes made me want to run and hide, but I found an inner strength. I was in the crisis management business. I think this qualified as a crisis…and someone needed to step up and manage it—before Isabella dove to the counter, where the knives were glittering ominously.

"Allegra, I’m sorry lied, but I think the two of you have some things to talk about,” I said calmly.

Isabella let out a laugh that cut sharper than any blade. "What happened between me and Allegra is no concern of yours. You’re a guest in this house. You think because you share Jacob’s bed it gives you the right to mediate things that you can never understand?"

I opened my mouth, but Allegra stepped in front of me, glaring at Isabella. "Don’t talk to her like that. She’s not some girl sharing Jacob’s bed. They love each other. Even you must see that!"

Isabella’s dark eyes smoldered as she took a single step toward Allegra. "What do you know about love? You got Carlton, and when you were done, you dropped him like a child dropping an old toy for something new and shiny."

The question Isabella refused to answer was all over her face. She had loved Carlton. I did not think she had ever stopped loving him.

I leaned toward Allegra. "Maybe this is a bad idea—"

But she moved forward. Panic rose in my throat because Isabella was all but baring her teeth. I had no idea what she was capable of if Allegra went any closer.

"You think I just fell out of love with him, Isa?" Her voice changed, more vulnerable than I’d ever heard from the strong woman. "I fought tooth and nail not to love him because I knew that you cared about him…but I was weak. I betrayed you." She stopped, hanging her head. "I betrayed myself. We both deserved so much better. Lucia deserved better.”

I gasped as Isabella lunged forward, grabbing Allegra by the shoulders. "Don’t you say her name!"

Jacob was a blur of movement as he dashed to them, ready to separate the two women, but Isabella did not shake nor choke her. She threw her arms around Allegra, the whole room going silent.

And then the tears started.

Both women sobbed, speaking in Italian, clutching each other as they finally took a step toward healing.

Jacob looked at me, then Blanka, and we all left the room, giving Allegra and Isabella privacy. Blanka rushed off to her room, clearly overwhelmed by everyone, and Jacob pulled me in for a hug of our own.

I peered up at him, a smile tugging at my lips. "Do you think they’ll be okay?"

He pressed his lips against my forehead, the warmth of his love filling me with a light brighter than the sun.

"I think they have a chance at being okay, thanks to you."

I locked my hands around him, my second question quieter than the first. "Are we okay?"

His lips quirked into a smile. "I’m not going anywhere, Miss Montgomery." He planted a soft kiss on my lips, then started toward the staircase. "I’m gonna finish packing." He paused at the landing, his eyes darkening with lust. "Maybe one last swing?"

I dashed up the stairs, taking two at a time. As I stood at the bookcase in his office, waiting for him to take me every which way before we headed home, I knew exactly what to say to Megan.

I’m in love with Jacob Whitmore, and I know my life will never be the same—and that’s okay. Change is scary, but sometimes it’s beautiful.

I don’t know what the future holds, but I know that when I’m with him, everything makes sense.

I’ll give you more juicy details than you can handle when I see you…I’m coming home!

xx

Leila

Epilogue

I lowered myself into the patio chair, pushing aside my last minute reservations. Jade Simone, a blogger with celebgloss.com, would be calling any minute for an exclusive interview—my first since the train wreck in front of Rachel Laraby’s hotel a few weeks ago. Jacob had his reservations about it, but I knew I needed to do something to warm me up for what was waiting after the Whitmore jet touched down in the States.

My cell hummed in my palm, the vibration amplifying the rattle of my nerves. It was her.

I brought it to my ear, gulping. "Hello?"

"Hi Leila!" Jade’s voice sounded like cotton candy, sticky and sweet. It matched the picture on the website: bleach blond hair, deep brown tan, and freakishly white teeth. "Is it okay if I call you Leila?"

I nodded, forgetting that she could not see the confirmation. "Yeah, Leila is fine."

"Awesome!" I heard rustling on her end, like she was pulling up, ready to get to work. "Thanks for responding to my email. Ever since Jacob announced that you were a couple, everyone’s been dying to sit down with you. I’m so glad you picked us for your first interview." She took a breath. "So—who is Leila Montgomery?"

I shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I grew up in Douglas Heights—"

"Douglas Heights?" she interrupted. "That…quaint neighborhood outside the city?”

She said ‘quaint’ like she really meant ‘poor’. I grit my teeth. “Yes, that one.”

“Wow,” she whistled. “I guess there’s hope for us little people after all then, huh?"

A slight warning bell rang in my head, but I ignored it. I had met people like her before. Absolutely zero tact. Completely oblivious of the power of their words.