Chapter 21
Alex zooms along the road, handling the Porsche with confidence. He felt calm yet exhilarated at the same time. The time he’d spent with Katherine over the weekend had given him a feeling of renewal, as though he’d been given a second chance.
He dropped Katherine off at her flat, and reluctantly said goodbye. Although, he reminded himself, he would see her tomorrow at work. Alex smiled. He was surprised, shocked even, at how much he looked forward to seeing her.
Alex reflected on their weekend together. He had a feeling she was going to love his country house, and she did. Alex loved the house as well – there was something very special about it. The house, the location – it was perfect. And with Katherine there, the house was complete. Alex allowed his mind to wander, thinking about the future and what might be……
He shook his head. Best not to think too far ahead. Take it easy, McCall, he thought. Don’t rush this.
Alex thought about how much more spontaneous and carefree Katherine seemed over the weekend while at his country home. He was pleasantly surprised to see this side of her personality, it definitely turned him on. He sensed it was there all along, just under the surface, needing, wanting to be brought out.
Their lovemaking was sensational, Alex thought, his lips curving into a sexy grin. He had a feeling it was only going to get better.
“Would you like anything else, sir?” the butler asked. Sergio looked down at his plate of linguini and clams, inspecting his food to ensure it was up to his standards. He takes a bite of the pasta, chews slowly, then swallows. The butler waits patiently, his hands placed behind his back.
“No grazie,” Sergio said. He decides he is satisfied with his meal, and waves the butler away. Caprice takes a sip of wine, watching Sergio as he ate. Caprice had important things to discuss with him. She pondered how to approach Sergio, and felt it was best to take the safe route. She would play to his ego, making him feel like a big, macho man, helping poor little Caprice. She knew he had plenty of connections in the entertainment business, and was friends with various movie producers and studio heads. Surely, thought Caprice with hopeful confidence, he would help with her acting ambitions.
“Sergio, I need to talk to you,” Caprice said tentatively. “I want to stop dancing.”
Sergio licked pasta sauce off his mouth, his lips smacking. He didn’t have the best of manners. He takes a long drink of red wine. Then another. Caprice watched him, anxiously waiting for his response.
“Well, what do you think about that?” Caprice asked impatiently, tired of waiting for his response. She knew that’s what he wanted her to do anyway.
Sergio put his fork down, wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin. “I think it would be the best thing to do, mia bella. For both of us,” he said, pleased that she had finally come around. Now, he would move her into his villa, permanently, and she would be his. All his, all the time. Just as it should be.
Caprice took a deep breath and continued. “Yes, I agree. But I don’t want to just sit around the house. I have dreams, aspirations.” Caprice paused for effect, in full-on actress mode. “Sergio, I want to become a professional actress. And I need you to help me,” she said dramatically, looking him in the eye.
Sergio was confused. Caprice was a stripper. She didn’t have dreams or aspirations. An actress? Sergio didn’t understand why Caprice wasn’t satisfied with simply being with him, making him happy. Women were around to please men. Wasn’t that what women were there for?
“An actress? Caprice, that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Sergio said laughing.
“It’s not ridiculous! And I don’t appreciate you laughing at me, either,” Caprice sniffed, her voice rising with anger. How dare he laugh at her!
In an instant, Sergio grabbed her arm, jerking her towards him, taking Caprice by surprise. “I don’t care what you appreciate,” he hissed through clenched teeth, his black eyes burning into hers. “I’ve put up with you showing your tits and ass, put up with it for far too long. Disrespecting me! No more! You will do as I say, do you understand me, mia bella?!” He twisted her arm as he spoke, causing Caprice to whimper in pain, tears stinging her eyes.
“Do you understand me?!?” he yelled. Sergio stood over her, grabbed the back of her head, a handful of Caprice’s long dark locks in one hand, the other hand ready to strike. His eyes were wild with rage.
“Yes, Sergio, I understand you, please let me go,” Caprice begged, squeezing her eyes shut tightly, terrified he was going to hit her.
Sergio released Caprice in a huff, returned to his seat, grabbed his glass of wine and downed it.
“We will have no more talk of this, Caprice. No more. Adesso basta.” The hot-blooded rage that Caprice had heard only seconds before was replaced with a controlled coldness. Caprice felt a shiver of fear run up her spine. She quickly wiped the tears away from the corner of her eyes, and fixed a smile upon her face.
“Whatever you want, Sergio,” Caprice said, her voice shaking. “Whatever you want.”
Chapter 22
He sat in a small, black Ford Fiesta, lowering his body in the seat, inching down as slowly as possible as to not bring any attention his way. The man peered out, his beady eyes just above the steering wheel, observing the scene. He watched with calculating, vengeful eyes as Alex opened the door for the blonde. He observed as they walked to her flat, and a few moments later, watched as McCall exited the building, hopping into his car.
He always did have a thing for old cars, the man thought, eyeing the vintage Porsche.
After McCall drove off, the man slowly raised himself up, placing his black leather gloved hands on the steering wheel. Suddenly, and without warning, he gripped the steering wheel as tightly as he could, screamed out “Fuck!” slamming his palms down on the wheel.
This surprised him, usually he kept his emotions under such strict control. He had been trained to do so. Maintaining control over oneself had been engrained in him. But that was a long time ago, many years and many lives ago.
He knew why his emotions were slipping. This job was different. It was personal.
London, England, 2001