Italian Boss, Ruthless Revenge

Roxanne…

Sitting on the bench in the changing room, Caitlyn buried her head in her hands and dragged in the stuffy air. The knot that was so familiar in her stomach these days tightened another notch, as if Roxanne and Cheryl were on either side, pulling, tugging so hard it would be easier sometimes to just let it snap. Their vile conversation was still playing on her mind as clearly as if it had taken place yesterday instead of two years ago. And not for the first time, maybe for the millionth, Caitlyn wondered if there was anything she could have done—anything she could have said—that might have changed the appalling outcome.

They’d gone to Roxanne’s on the Sunday—Helen to plead with Cheryl to please come and visit now and then. Caitlyn and Roxanne had left them to it, taken a bottle of champagne upstairs and attempted a girls’ night in.

Attempted—as they had since they’d been little girls—to pretend they were friends.

‘What’s this?’ Roxanne’s eyes had lit up as Caitlyn’s bag had tipped off the bed, the photo of Lazzaro she’d torn out of a magazine falling on the floor. ‘You’ve got a crush on him, haven’t you?’

‘No!’ Caitlyn had snatched back the picture, her face burning. But an excuse to talk about Lazzaro had been just too impossible to pass up. ‘But you should see how he runs the place—he’s pretty amazing.’

‘He’s hot…’ Roxanne had grinned. ‘I’ll give you that.’

Brave or foolish, Caitlyn hadn’t been able to help but show off a little bit to her cousin. ‘He gave me a lift home last night.’

‘You?’ Roxanne scoffed. ‘He’s ferrying the staff home now, is he? Things must be getting tight!’ Roxanne stared down at her newly painted toenails. ‘I’m sick of the Ranaldis. I thought I was on to a good thing with Luca, and it turns out the guy’s a complete loser.’

‘Hardly a loser,’ Caitlyn countered. ‘And if he’s anything like his twin then he must be stunning.’

‘He’s broke,’ Roxanne groaned. ‘Luca Ranaldi’s a drunk, and he’s broke.’

‘Broke?’ Caitlyn frowned. The words ‘broke’ and ‘Ranaldi’ didn’t exactly belong in the same sentence, but Roxanne just giggled, opening her wardrobe and pulling out dress after dress, then pulling out a box and smiling at Caitlyn’s shocked expression over the glittering array of jewels. ‘He’s bought you all this? But I thought you just said he was broke.’

‘What salesperson would even think to check his credit rating? He’s living off his reputation—though not for much longer,’ Roxanne said darkly. ‘Lazzaro’s covering all his rapidly bouncing cheques.’

‘So what the hell are you doing, accepting these things?’ Caitlyn said hotly. ‘Roxanne, if the guy’s going under…’

‘Then he might as well go under in style. Anyway, a few piddly dresses and some jewels are a drop in the ocean compared to his problems. I was actually going to dump him today, but he said that he’d take me car-shopping on Monday.’ She tossed over a few brochures. ‘I’m thinking I might go for red.’

‘Roxanne!’

‘Oh, get a life,’ Roxanne snapped. ‘Once I’ve got rid of Luca I intend to.’

‘How are you doing? I’ve got some luggage for you to—’ The shop assistant whipped back the curtain, her painted smile wavering as Caitlyn looked up. ‘Are you feeling all right?’

‘I’m fine.’ Caitlyn ran a tongue over dry lips and stood up. ‘Just fine.’

They were so in love.

The words taunted her as she stared in the mirror. Aunty Cheryl had said them over and over, her mother too—it had even been in the newspapers, with a photo of Roxanne having to be held up as she walked behind Luca’s coffin.

But Caitlyn knew the truth—and it would seem that Malvolio did too.

‘What’s happening?’ Lazzaro frowned as, not only was the phone picked up at his sister’s home, but Antonia herself answered.

‘Nothing. Why?’

‘I thought you had pains? That you were—’