Her Venice Affair (The Albury Affairs) (20 page)

Anthony shook his head with a tsk. “Wishful thinking
my friend.”

Allan held onto hope. “She would have fought you! She
would rather be dead than have you touch her!”

Anthony shrugged. “A woman in love is very willing to
do anything for her man. All I had to do was tell her if she refused, I would
kill you.” He chuckled. “She let me act out all the fantasies I had from the
moment I saw her.” He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath, his tongue
running over his lips. “
Mmm
,
I can still taste her…”

Allan felt his body shake with rage. All he could see
was red. He wanted blood for Riana and he was going to have it.

“You bastard!” he yelled as he charged Anthony and
tackled him to the ground. He punched Anthony twice in the jaw before he felt a
burning heat in his side and Anthony threw him off.

Anthony pointed to the stairway brushing his sleeve
over his mouth to wipe the blood off. Allan followed his direction and he felt
his heart stop. He could already see the flames come up the steps.

“Cremation was the best way. Such beauty should not
rot.”

Allan swiped Anthony’s feet from under him and Anthony
dropped to the ground. He then launched himself on Anthony, trying to pry the
gun from his hold as they rolled on the ground. Two shots went off. Allan felt
a burning in his ribs as Anthony went still under him.

He then stood up, ignoring the discomfort in his side
and ribs, and rushed for the blazing steps. The heat more than the flames
stopped him; it was so hot he could feel his eyes burn from the heat.

There was no way he could get down there without
getting burned.

But Riana
is down there.

He launched himself down the steps and fell at the
bottom with a heavy thud. He rolled on his hands and knees and the hot floor burned.
He leaned against the wall and pushed himself up. He could barely stand up. The
pain in his ribs and side were blinding.

He swayed, fighting both the effects of the smoke and
the dizziness from the pain and staggered toward the bedroom. He got as far as
the kitchen door before it exploded, knocking him down.

There was a persistent ringing in his ear as he lay
under the door. His head hurt and his shoulder felt like it was on fire, but
they weren’t going to deter him from getting to Riana.

He struggled to crawl from under the door, pushing
forward when he felt something wrap around his ankles yanking him back.

“No! Stop! Let me go!”

His please fell on deaf ears as his rescuer threw him
over his shoulder and ran up the blazing steps.

“Stop, I need to save Riana!” he yelled, pounding on
the giant’s back, but he wouldn’t let Allan go.

His rescuer jumped off the boat and took off fast like
he was carrying zero weight on his shoulder, taking Allan further and further
away from Riana.

In a last attempt, Allan kneed the giant in his chest,
forcing him to drop him.

Allan stumbled on to his feet and moved back toward
the burning yacht. “Riana!”

The loud explosion threw him back.

He fell on his back with a pained hiss. He turned to
the large amber flames and watched as it took the love of his life away. “Oh
God…Riana!”

He forced himself on his hands and knees and crawled
toward his love. “I have to save her. Riana, wait for me. Please don’t die. I’m
coming to save you.”

He felt an arm wrap around his shoulders and pull him
back. “
Signore
Sinclair, she is
gone!”

Allan tried to fight him off but he felt so weak, he
could hardly breathe. “No…she’s not! I have to…save her!”

Vittorio knelt before him. “
Dio
!
Von, move your arm away. His shoulder is burnt.” He pressed one
hand on Allan’s ribs and the other on his side. “
Dio
!
You’ve been shot Allan, stay still!”

The moment Allan was released from the shoulder hold
he tried to escape, his eyes trained on his target. He needed to get to the yacht
before it was completely incinerated.

Allan felt Vittorio push him to the ground, halting
his escape. “Allan, she’s dead. There is nothing you can do.”

“No! You don’t…understand. I have to…save her, so I
can…tell her that I love her and I…want her with me…forever.”

“Allan, she already knew that.”

Allan turned to Vittorio and met the anguish in his
eyes. He’d given up on her, but Allan couldn’t. Not yet. Not ever.

Allan pushed his hands away and struggled to sit up,
“Let…me…go!”

What was left of the yacht exploded again and Allan’s heart
did as well, shattering and sinking him into darkness.

Chapter Eleven

Two and a half years later.

Matthew looked across the jet at Allan, shell-shocked.
Who was this guy? He couldn’t possibly be
the
Allan Sinclair?

The man he had known for twelve years couldn’t
possibly be the same one sitting across from him now.

The Allan he knew was always sharp, poised, and
elegant. He exuded power and commanded the attention of a room by just walking
into it. He was imposing, both by body statue of a six foot three build with
broad shoulders to match and by nature of how he spoke and how he moved. Even a
glance from Allan could reduce a man in size. There was always a shine in his
eyes that sparkled more in his rare moments of mischief. A subtle smile on his
lips would either tighten and turn up in a sign that he was quickly losing his
temper, or spread in a wide grin that Matthew’s own wife had described as
breathtaking when he was happy.

He was Allan Sinclair, billionaire and businessman
extraordinaire and as cutthroat a businessman as he was a lover. Which is why
Matthew was shocked as to how the loss of a woman had turned him into…whoever
this character was that sat before him.

Maybe it was guilt, seeing that Riana died due to a
business deal gone bad, that ate away at his best friend’s soul and turned him
into a shadow of himself.

Matthew looked at Allan again. Gosh, it was hard to
believe that his friend had actually fallen in love, something Matthew knew
Allan had sworn off altogether. It was even harder to believe he’d become the
man he had sworn never to be…his own father.

Matthew took in the man that sat across from him, with
his shoulder length hair that served as a shield, obscuring his face when he
leaned forward, his body folding into itself. With that and the beard that
covered half his face, he would have never recognized Allan when the man at the
harbor pointed him out. And the fact that he was wearing a dirty white T-shirt,
black shorts, and sandals made Matthew do a double take.

The man had been living on his new yacht—a very small
boat and not befitting his previous elegance—and only went to land once a month
when he needed supplies and gas. It was mere chance that Matthew had caught
him.

When Matthew had gone to him, Allan had stopped
walking, standing still with his hands in his pockets and his head bowed. He
didn’t say a word to Matthew. He just waited, like he was waiting Matthew to
say his peace then move out of his way so that he could go on with his day.

Dante Vittorio, Allan’s Italian lawyer and self-appointed
guardian, had told Matthew before he left that this was how his friend now
responded to people. Matthew couldn’t believe it. Seeing it for himself still
boggled his mind. They had tried to use Dante to convince Allan to go back home—as
a sort of way to resurrect him from the dead and back into American society—but
Allan had made it quite clear by action, since he wouldn’t speak to Dante, that
he had no intention of leaving Venice.

Matthew wasn’t sure exactly what Allan blamed Dante for—saving
his life or refusing to turn
Casa
Italiano
into rubbles. But now, the once near bankrupt
chain of hotels that Melody had renamed
Anima
Gemella
—
which meant soul mates in honor of her parents and
recently Allan and Riana—was thriving. Dante had hired competent managers for
each branch and, despite the initial bad press surrounding Allan and Riana’s
murders by the former owner Anthony Torino, the hotels were doing perfectly.

It was because of Melody, Allan’s worried sister that
Matthew had forced Allan onto the plane back to the States. That and the fact
that his ‘death’ was beginning to affect Sinclair Enterprise negatively. They
had allowed Allan to remain dead since he woke up from his four-month coma and
gave him privacy to mourn, but the time had come for him to resurrect and take
back the reins of Sinclair Enterprise.

Melody wasn’t ready to lose the only family member she
had left and Matthew wasn’t going to allow his best friend to wither away
without a fight. Matthew had forcefully put him on the jet back to the States
and he was going to do exactly that—fight for him—every day of his life until
Allan began living again.

“Why are you doing this?”

Matthew wasn’t sure if the weak voice was a figment of
his imagination or if Allan had actually spoken.

“What was that?”

Allan turned his head and fixed his deserted eyes on
him. “Why are you doing this?”

Matthew unbuckled his belt and moved to the aisle seat
on his side of the jet. “Because we need you, Allan.”

He shook his head and turned back to look at his lap.
“You are better off without me. Trust me on that.”

Matthew sighed. Getting Allan out of his rut wasn’t
going to be easy.
At least he’s speaking.

“You are all Melody has left. You can’t do this to
her.”

Matthew saw Allan lift a charred piece of paper in his
hand and he gently and adoringly drew circles on it with his fingers.

“She was all Reno had left, and I took her away from
him.”

Matthew moved to the seat next to him. “I’m sure he’ll
understand once we find him and—”

“No.” Allan’s voice hitched. “I can’t face him. I
can’t admit that my failure to protect our family killed them. I’d rather be
dead…I wish I were dead,” he confessed in a deadpan voice.

He went silent and when Matthew was about to speak
again, he looked up. Matthew swallowed a gasped when he saw tears in Allan’s eyes,
his dead eyes possessing a flicker of life that spoke only of his pain.

“Why didn’t he let me die with them?” he whispered.

This couldn’t go on any longer. Matthew grabbed
Allan’s shoulders and shook him, “Listen to me. You didn’t kill Riana nor did
you kill Anthony. Furthermore, that bastard had it coming!” Matthew gentled his
voice. “And Riana…oh God Riana didn’t deserve to die the way she did. It was
unfortunate. But you need to move on with your life.”

Allan shook his head, dislodging a stream of tears.
“You don’t understand. Nobody does. I failed them, Matthew, and there is
nothing that you can say that can change that.” Then he turned away and looked
out the window in silence.

Matthew let out a defeated sigh. He placed his elbows
on his knees and his face in his hands and that’s when he saw it, the word that
Allan had been circling with his fingers.

 
“Oh God, no.”
Finally, Matthew understood his pain.

Allan had been shot in the side, a through and
through, the bullet narrowly missing his kidney. The bullet had rammed into his
rib, breaking a piece of bone off, forcing it into his lung, and causing it to
collapse. He’d suffered a second degree burn on his right shoulder and first
degree burns on his hands and knees. The long scar on his hairline professed
the severe concussion he’d suffered that had caused a brain swell, sending him
into his coma.

All those physical injuries would never compare to the
pain of his emotional wounds.

Emotional wounds caused by knowing he could not save
the love of his life from being sexually assaulted by a monster. Or that he
couldn’t save her from being killed by a bullet through the heart and finally
have her remains incinerated on his yacht.

Emotional wounds caused by knowing that he couldn’t
save the love of his life, the same woman who was carrying his child inside
her.

Pregnant. That was the word Allan circled tenderly
with his fingers.

Matthew understood now. Allan felt he had failed not
only Riana but their unborn baby.

Oh God, no man could ever survive that. Matthew knew
for certain if anything were to happen to his wife Amy and their son Mark and
he was but a few feet away from where they lay dying…

Matthew placed his hand on his friend’s arm. How Allan
had survived two years without taking his own life was a miracle. How in the
hell had the note survived the fire?

Matthew leaned closer and re-read the note.

‘
I thought you
should know. I’m pregnant and I don’t want your money. Call me if you want to
be a father.’

* * * *

Melody paced in the living room of Allan’s condo,
switching between wringing her hands and raking them through her hair. Her
nerves were shot and her patience was worn. If she had to watch her brother sit
against the glass wall looking out at the Hudson River as he clutched onto a
piece of paper like it was a lifeline one more day she was going to break the
glass and push him out!

It had been two weeks since Matthew forced him back to
the States. Two weeks of him sitting in the same spot only leaving it to use the
bathroom. Two weeks of him looking out at that damn river like it was some sort
of world wonder. He didn’t use another part of his condo, and if Melody hadn’t
made it a point to cook and force the food down his throat, he would have
starved to death.

She had left her comfortable home to sleep on her big
brother’s couch so she could watch him every single minute of the day because
she was afraid he might finally kill himself.

Melody fought the tears for the hundredth time that
day alone, like she did every day, watching Allan decay before her eyes. This
was not her brother. Her brother was already dead. He had died with Riana. She
took him from her and left her with a shell of who he used to be.

When she hadn’t seen him for the past two years, she
understood he wanted to mourn in private. And she was grateful to Riana because
she proved to Allan that there was nothing wrong with loving with all your
heart. But right now, watching what her loss was doing to him, she hated Riana.
Melody had never met the woman before, but she hated her for dying.

The doorbell rang and she rushed to it. She needed a
break. From Allan, from herself and especially from all the bitter feelings
that filled her.

She yanked the door open and dragged Matthew in, not
letting him say a word.

“Do something!” she cried, pointing at Allan.

“He still hasn’t moved from there?”

She began pacing again. “If he could drag the toilet
to that stupid glass wall he would because that is the only time he does move.”

Matthew grabbed her shoulders, stopping her pacing. “I
know this is getting to you. Why don’t you take a break and I’ll watch him.”

She needed than a break. She needed distance. She felt
like putting a continent between them. She should leave Allan and get on with
her life because he had every intention of staying stuck. She should leave
him…but she couldn’t. He was all she had left.

When Allan finally woke up from his coma, she left his
bedside for an entire day. Just one day to get cleaned up, organize their trip
back home, and take a nap. When she came back the next day, he was gone. That
was the last time she saw him for two years. She was afraid if she stepped out
of the condo, he was going to disappear again, and this time she may never see
him again.

She took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I
can’t leave him.”

“Okay. Why don’t you go to his room instead? Take a
long, relaxing bath and a nap. I’ll stay here and make sure he doesn’t leave or
do anything stupid.”

Melody nodded and covered her face with her hands. She
was tired and she wanted to rest and cry. The seclusion of the bedroom would
permit her to do both.

She reached the door when Matthew called her. By the
expression on his face she knew she wasn’t going to like what he was going to
say next.

“Melody, I know you must have forgotten because of
Allan, but ah…the charity gala in Riana’s honor is tomorrow night.”

Without a word, Melody walked into the room and closed
the door behind her, turning the lock.

It was after four hours of a long bath, an even longer
cry, and a nap before Melody ventured out of Allan’s room. She was rejuvenated
and ready to take on the care of her brother again. She opened the door and
stopped when she heard Allan speak. She was a little shocked considering his
recent vocabulary only consisted of six words—thanks, good morning, goodnight, and
I’m sorry.

He was actually speaking, and by the tone of his voice—not
lifeless and dead but affectionate and loving—she was sure he was talking about
Riana. From the few words she caught, he was talking about their trip to Italy.

She took a few steps into the room. He couldn’t see
her because his back was to her but Matthew did. He signaled for her to remain
quiet and just listen to Allan speak.

“No, it’s all right,” Allan said without raising his
head. “Come sit with us, Melody. Matthew asked me why I couldn’t get over
losing Riana and I was just explaining why.”

For some reason that pissed off Melody, but her
brother was talking again and she wasn’t going to jeopardize that by telling
him what she thought of his precious Riana.