Page 9 of Loving the Enemy
Chapter 4
Zaira
I’ve been waiting patiently for Vince to return from his meeting with Michael. When I hear him come in through the front door, I rush downstairs to meet him in the great hall. “So am I going to Italy?”
He takes off his suit coat and does not look me in the eye.
“What the hell, Vince. What’s going on?”
Draping his suit coat over his arm, he says, “Yes, you’re going to Italy, but there is a caveat.”
At first, excitement rushes over me and then I feel nothing but irritation. Of course Michael would have demands. “What?” I ask smartly.
“He wants you to ask him in person.”
“Are you freaking kidding me? What am I, twelve?” I ask. “That’s bullshit, Vince, and you know it. I’m a grown woman.” I try my best to stand my ground, but inside, I’m terrified to face him again. I can’t look at his beautiful face and his crystal-blue eyes. I can’t smell his cologne. I can’t.
“Zaira, humor him. Please.”
I shake my head.
“Zaira, the man loves you. He wants to see you, and he will use every excuse he can to make that happen. Go see him. Once you speak to him, then you can go to Italy.”
He has a point, but what about my pride? Does he have any idea how degrading it is for me to go back to my soon-to-be ex-husband to ask him if I can travel to Italy? My ex-husband controls many people, and unfortunately, it looks like I am still one of them.
As if he was reading my mind, Vince says, “I know this is a bruise to your pride, Zaira, but be the bigger person in all this. We both know Michael is a prideful man. He will use his power over his family and us to get what he wants. And right now, he wants you. Just humor him.”
“Fine. I’ll call to see if I can see him after dinner.”
He kisses my forehead. “Good girl.”
I’m so tired of being treated like a child.As I walk back upstairs, I pull out my phone. I might as well get this conversation over with. Michael answers on the second ring.
“Zaira” is all he says.
“Hey, do you have some time this evening, after dinner? I want to come by and talk to you about Italy.”
“Sure, I could probably fit you in around seven?” He couldfitme in. He’s being so cold. He’s being a jerk.
Pride, I tell myself, remembering I need to be the bigger person. “Perfect, I’ll see you then,” I say sweetly. The phone disconnects without another word from Michael. Looking down at my phone, I sigh.Damn.
***
About an hour before I am supposed to meet Michael, I decide to change out of my leggings and comfy shirt. Yes, I need to look good. I stop for a moment to wonder why and then I realize… it doesn’t matter. I want to look good. I pull out a dark denim jean skirt and a silk black blouse. I pull out my Harley boots, the tall ones that lace up the back, and a black cardigan. I quickly refresh my makeup and hair and get dressed. Once I am pleased with my appearance, I head downstairs to my car. I should have a driver go with me, but I’m so tired of being under the family thumb that I grab the keys to my Jaguar F-Type and head out the door in an act of rebellion.
Before anyone can stop me, I am pulling down the drive. In my rearview mirror, I see Vince and Darius on the front stoop calling after me. Immediately, Darius gets on his Harley and follows me. Michael allowed Darius to stay with me as my personal bodyguard after Vegas. Now he’s following me like a bat out of hell ’cause I know he’s terrified Michael will fire him if anything happens to me. Well, at least I can drive on my own. It then occurs to me this might be the first time in my adult life that I have been in a car alone. Not the first time I’ve driven, obviously, but seriously… Twenty-five years old and I am now having my first experience in a car alone.My life is so sad.
When I arrive at the Vitali mansion, I pull up to the front. Jude greets me and opens my car door. “I’m here to see Michael,” I say.
“Of course.” He takes out his phone and texts something, I assume, to Ricco who I am sure is standing guard outside of Michael’s office as usual.
A few seconds later, he says, “He’s in the pool house. Shall I escort you?”
Surprised that Michael is not keeping this formal by standing behind his desk, I say, “No thank you, Jude. I can find my way on my own.”
He nods. “He’s expecting you.” Well of course he is.
I let myself in the front door and make my way toward the pool house. When I walk through the patio doors, memories flood my mind. I think about the many lunches Michael and I had on this patio. As I walk down toward the pool, I remember how angry he got when I was out here in a bikini. He was so jealous that day. As I proceed toward the pool house, memories of the day we were shot at consume me. Michael was so strong and worried about me—but proud of me that I knew what to do in a crisis. He treated me like his equal and not a damsel in distress.This is gonna be so hard. Why is he making me do this?Again, I remind myself,Pride, Zaira. Pride and control.
