My Sweet Isabella (The Ambassador Trilogy #3) (23 page)

In the wee hours of the morning, she took her last breath with all of us gathered around. My heart broke while I watched Isabella cry for her again. I took her home and stayed with her all day as she tried to come to terms with losing her best friend.

The funeral was tough on everyone. I never knew Avery had so many friends. She didn’t talk about the volunteer work she had done or the contributions she made to charities. I didn’t know that behind her sarcasm and smart ass humor was a person concerned more with others than herself. Small charities I had not heard of came to pay their respects, and celebrate a life gone way too soon. Her funeral was supposed to be a celebration of her life. She made her wishes clear before she died she didn’t want a traditional funeral. She wanted her funeral to be a happy occasion. She specified to Cherise she wanted a band to play rock music, a bar, food, her Chanel wardrobe put with her, and her casket closed. I had not seen anything like Avery’s funeral nor will I ever again. At the end of the service she wanted Crazy Train played as per her wishes, as everyone said one last goodbye to Avery and she was taken to the family mausoleum.

I found out weeks later she had left a letter to Isabella. I didn’t read the letter, but my girl said the letter was something she will cherish her entire life. When the will was read, Isabella was told to be there.

In a final show of love to Isabella, Avery left her the rest of her wardrobe and a huge amount of money to start her business when she was ready.

~~~~~~~~~~~

They say that bad things come in sets of three. After the attempt on my life and the fact I could have died, we were faced with the heart retching passing of Avery, and one evening while I sat in my office preparing for my next day at the United Nations, I received a call from my father.

“Dad, how are you? Is everything alright?”

There was dead silence on the phone as I listened to him breathing.

“What is wrong, Dad? Is Mamma okay?”

“Yes, yes your mother is fine. Romain is the problem.” Holy fuck not again. He was bailed out of jail awaiting his trial for the death of his fiancé. My dad’s attorney said Romain would be an easy case. He would probably do little or no time because of the fact he defended a government official against an impending terrorist attack. My father paid his bail and Romain was able to stay at home under house arrest until his trial. He moved into the house in Paris. All he had to do was to keep a low profile until the trial. I provided them with security until I knew no one would hurt him or my parents.

“What did he do?” I heard his voice start to shake. Fuck, he had to be dead. The thoughts of me finding him overdosed when I was a boy entered my mind. I remember the needle sticking out of his arm and the white color of his skin. That was an image I would always remember.

“Is he dead?” I asked, when my father didn’t answer right away. I closed my eyes. I knew what the answer was going to be. They found him in his room in the same condition I had once found him, or he hanged himself.

“I don’t know. He isn’t here. He’s gone.”

“Gone? How can he be gone? Didn’t I have someone watching your place twenty-four hours a day?”

“Yes, you did and yes the guard was here. Romain went to bed early, and your mother and I were watching a movie. I went upstairs to go to bed a few minutes ago, and his tracking device lay on the floor. His room door was open, and he wasn’t in there. Son of a bitch.

“Have you checked the entire house?” The place was so big you could get lost without even trying.

“Yes, the entire house was checked from top to bottom by me and the staff. There is no sign of him.”

“Did you call the police?” Surely that was the first call my dad made.

“No, I wanted to call you first. I wanted to check with you on what to do.” That was an unfamiliar statement coming from the one man who was sure of all he did in life. My dad was always on the top of his game.

“You need to call the police and then Bassi. For all we know he up and left. I don’t think anyone kidnapped him if that is what you think. Romain is not one to face his mistakes. You know this is his track record. He will up and run when things don’t go his way. He always has.”

“I know. I don’t know where he could have run to. Rome, I presume.”

“I have a few guys that can be out there in a few hours. They are costly, but they find what I need them to find. I can send them to you, but in the mean time you need to call the police before he’s gone forever. He won’t go too far.”

My head tried to take in all types of scenarios that could have happened. More than likely he ran. Romain has never been able to face anything, even if it involved him doing something he shouldn’t have done. Romain was a runner. He ran from his problems either by hiding, taking drugs, or by going away where no one could find him.

“Call me back when you get the information. I can’t fly out right now, Dad. I have some important issues I need to contend with her at the Embassy, and I’m supposed to fly to the UN later today.”

“Hell, I understand. I don’t want you to fly out here for this. No, I needed your advice. Thank you, Son. I will call soon.”

I hung up the phone and switched on the televisions in my office. I had each one set to a different news channel. I blew out a sigh of relief to find out the news story wasn’t on any channel, yet.

When I thought he had his life turned around he went and did something stupid again. He was so fucking stupid. I wasn’t helping him. Unless he was kidnapped, murdered, or beaten to a pulp, he was on his own. He could rot in jail for the rest of his life. I had to let him and his problems go. I had my own personal and public issues to contend with. My phone rang again within a few minutes. It was my dad again.

“Well, did he resurface?”

“No, he did not. I called the police. They are coming over. We’re trying to contact his acquaintances.” Surely he had already gone far away. Why the fuck would he do this when this was such a cut and dry case. He would have been a free man. Now he faced real prison time. I was so tired of the bullshit.

“He left a note though, Fabrice. I don’t know what to make of it. Can I read this letter to you?” My dad was beyond agitated. I could hear the anger in his voice. This asshole brother of mine had put both my parents through so much over the years.

“Of course. Go ahead.”

“
Somethings will never be right. I can’t ever be the man I should be. I have tried many times but I can’t do it. I’m sorry for the hurt. I’m sorry for being your son. Please forgive me, and I hope one day you will understand. I’m leaving. I can’t face any more scrutiny. I killed her to protect you and Fabrice. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me one day. I love you all but you won’t see me again. I’m going away for good this time. I want to ride off into the sunset like a man. This is my one and only gift to you. Much love, Romain.”

Well that didn’t sound good. He was either going far away or he was going to kill himself. Knowing my brother, he didn’t have the balls to kill himself. He was too much of a wimp to do himself in.

“Dad, he’s going away. We need to come to terms with the fact we may not see him again.” I didn’t know how else to explain this to him.

“I know he isn’t going to kill himself. He isn’t man enough to do that. What he has done is cause pain and suffering to your mother again, and I will not have her go through this ever another time. This is the last straw, Fabrice. I want you to know I’m through with him. If he is alive, he is dead to me.”

“Dad, I understand. He has made a mockery of our life by his actions. Yes, he did kill someone for us. But, he could have been pardoned and been able to go on with his life. That was too easy for Romain. Does Mamma know?”

“Not yet, I didn’t tell her.” I heard his anger in his voice. My dad was always a level-headed and calm man. He was a tailor and built a business by being the man he was. He never became too angry, but he let you know he was nobody’s fool, and when he had enough he had enough. I could tell now he had enough. With irritation dripping from his words, he said to me. “Fabrice, I’m done. This was the last time I will consider him my son.” I didn’t answer. There was nothing left to say.

I
spent the next few weeks working hard to become stronger both physically and mentally. Isabella was still down from the death of Avery. She and I needed to get away and we decided to go somewhere for a short trip. We chose New York City. One of Isabella’s favorite places, and I had to be at the United Nations one day, but then we would have the rest of the time together. We spent the days getting lost in the crowded city and passed the nights trying different restaurants and making love until we couldn’t move. I saw her smile return, and I knew she was starting to feel better. I took her to a French boutique my father had connections to. I had suggested she look for a wedding dress and she tried on one for fun. It wasn’t traditional that I saw her in the dress, I know. She fell in love with the first one she tried on. I loved watching her eyes catch fire when she looked in the mirror. The ivory color against her skin was perfect. I could not see her in any other dress but that one.

“Why are we doing this?” she smiled at me as we both looked in the mirror.

“I don’t know. I thought you might like to try one on and see what you liked. I know it’s strange, but I wanted to see if there was anything in here you may fall in love with.”

We both couldn’t stop staring at her in the that dress. The dress was perfect.

“This is the one, isn’t it?” Isabella tried not to smile so broadly. She couldn’t help herself. Madame Camille, the boutique owner, smiled with us, nodding her head.

“Fabrice, Mrs. DeFrizio, is going to be so angry.” I had no idea what she was talking about.

“Who is Mrs. DeFrizio?” I asked trying to understand what was going on.

“She’s the owner of Bella Luna Dresses. She made Sophia’s dress and I promised I would go to her if I ever married.” She was kidding, right?

“I think she will forgive you, Isabella.” I wrapped my arms around her waist as I stood behind her admiring the dress she would wear in a couple of months.

“No, you don’t understand, she will be very angry.” She was serious. I tried not to laugh as I looked at her wearing a very expensive French-made wedding dress.

“Is she in the mob?”

“Shut up, Fabrice. I don’t know how I will explain this to her.”

“I know, don’t, and if she says anything tell her my father is a tailor and he made the dress. Simple as that or should I say Bada Bing Bada Bang?”

“You’re awful.” She turned around and kissed me. The dress would be delivered to the vineyard in time for the wedding, and then we went to pick out our wedding bands. I wanted Cartier to match her engagement ring. She agreed, and we headed over to the store to purchase two platinum bands. Our wedding came together perfectly.

On our last night, we sat in Central Park eating a hot dog from a vendor. We decided the last of the details to our wedding.

“I want close family and friends, Fabrice.”

“That is fine with me. We will have a small Catholic ceremony at the vineyard. Mamma wants to plan the wedding and reception if you don’t mind. The planning will help keep her mind off Romain.”

“Of course. Let her. I hate that kind of thing and I just want to marry you.” Taking her hand that held my ring on her delicate finger, I kissed her ring and then kissed her on the lips.

We sat in silence, her head against my chest and watched the sun go down. There was so much love and lust between us. She was my universe and my reason to live. To make her my wife would be the best day of my life.