Her Sicilian Arrangement (9 page)

“
You
did not mention bringing a signora…” Marco heard the voice coming
from the left of him and he opened his eyes, removing his dark
sunglasses concurrently. He then noticed his brother moving towards
him and then stepped beneath the cabana, taking his own seat. “I’d
have to say, Father and I were surprised…but she is surely
beautiful. But wait—that wasn’t the part that shocked us the most.
It was when Maria introduced her as your fiancée…I almost got a
heart attack in my young days!”

Marco chuckled and sat upright. “It’s nice to see you too,
Felipe.”

“
What’s the catch?”

Marco looked at him narrowly. “What catch?”

“
We
both know you are not the type of man to settle down and make a
family…it is one of the issues that you and Father disagreed mostly
frequently on. So…what’s the catch?”

“
What makes you think there is a catch? Meagan and I are in
love…soon.”

“So,
there
is
a catch!”

“
She
hates me,” Marco finally admitted, rubbing his forehead and
flipping the sunglasses slowly in his hands.

“
Wait…let me guess—oh, I know…you thought marriage was the best
way to solve those differences!” Felipe chuckled, obviously amused
at Marco’s situation.

“
She’s a journalist, Felipe. She wants to interview me for a
story because she believes those lies about me…but I want
her.”

“
You
want her? As in, you really want her as your lover?”

“Sí.
I had to
buy time so I told her that I would give her a story if she agrees
to pretend to be my fiancée. It’s the only way I saw fit to have
her close to me at her will.”

Felipe sighed, looked across the lawn and back. “Then you know
that your secret is safe with me, brother.”

“Grazie
!”
Marco sighed and massaged his temples. “What have you been up to
since the past couple months?”

“
A
little of this and that,” he responded. “I’ve been sorting out the
food packages for this month’s delivery to Libya. I don’t think
that you should come accompany this time. I will travel alone with
the crew. I am leaving in two days.”

“
Very well.”

“
I
think you should go have a word with Father. You two need to settle
this feud before it gets any worse,” Felipe advised. “Listen to
your older brother for once.”

Marco sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “That is a hard
thing you are asking of me, Felipe.”

“
But
it is the right thing, no?”

“I
don’t even know what the right thing is anymore. I will talk to
Father…today, I promise. But right now, I need to get to discussing
something very terrifyingly important. I think someone is trying to
sabotage me.”

“Che
cosa
! Are you sure?
Why?”

“
The
thought had only occurred to me an hour ago. I had initially
thought that people had misunderstood our journeys but then—the
type of lies that they tell—seems calculated.”

“I
see…,” Felipe muttered. “But who could it be? Who could have done
that to you? I don’t know of you having enemies.”

“
I
don’t either. But I must find out.”

“
Marco, you should really think this through properly. If the
person—or persons—who constructed this slander had the resources to
turn some of your own employees against you, then I suggest you be
careful. They might be very dangerous.”

“
I
might be very dangerous when I catch them!” Marco
snapped.

“
Calm down. I shall keep an extra eye out for you, and don’t
worry. I have a feeling everything will work out just
fine.”

“
Okay.” Marco eased off the chair and then straightened his
pants. “I want to ask Meagan something—.”

“
Uh,
I think I heard Maria saying that they all were going for a walk so
Father might be the only one you will see in the house. You should
to talk to him…now.”

Marco sighed and ruffled his thick dark hair. “Okay…here I go
to my death.” He heard Felipe chuckling as he walked off and then
moved at a mediate pace across the lawn towards the main building.
It was as if God had been whispering in his ear at that moment,
when he raised his chin to look up at the window of his father’s
office to meet the eyes of the man who had technically disowned him
socially. Marco clenched his jaw fiercely and then walked through
the empty sitting room, through the oversized living room and began
to embark the long spiral flight of steps. He could not remember
when the last time was since he had climbed that staircase. He had
always chosen to vacate the Guest House, which he and Meagan
currently shared, just to avoid his father’s gruesome
words.

Felipe had moved out when he was only twenty-three years old
but Torre Mussolini had not found any problem with that since
Felipe had welcomed the running of his own vineyard, exactly
according his father’s liking. Marco had decided to embark is own
success ladder at the same age when he had moved out as well to
keep a ‘healthy’ distance between him and his father. Torre had
been angry about the entire act saying that Marco was ungrateful
and he had not grown him to think that he was better than anyone.
Alessandra had tried many a times to quash the whole argument but
it never worked because Torre Mussolini was the type of man who
listened to no one.

Marco gently knocked on the door to his father’s office once
and then opened it to see him still peering through the window, his
back turned to him. “I would like to speak to you,” Marco muttered,
shoving his right hand in his right pocket and then relaxing to
greet his father’s angry face.

Torre turned to look at him and then removed the cigar from
his lips, and put it out by stubbing its lit side in the ash tray.
“It’s been a while since you’ve even uttered a word in my
presence…and yet you are here in my house saying you want to talk
to me,” he grounded out and then looked up at Marco. “Let me tell
you something…if I want to talk to you, I will call for you. You
don’t come in here ordering me to talk.”

Marco felt as if he had been by a truck and if it wasn’t for
his steadfast self-control, he probably would have stormed out of
the room. “Say whatever you wish, Father. I have decided to put
this all behind me because I have grown and I wish not to waste my
time on idle vendettas.”

Torre laughed and then finally dropped the cigar from his hand
on the tray. “Is that so? Well, I shall put this behind me for now
because no matter what, I would never seek to insult my family in
the presence of others. I shall wait till your lady friend is
absent.”

“
That ‘lady friend’ is my fiancée,” Marco said, keeping the eye
contact locked. “Her name is Meagan.”

“
Well, I have to say, she is very beautiful. Where did you meet
this American?”

“
That is my business.”

“
Ahh…I see you are still your father’s son. But let me remind
you, arrogance is most often a man’s downfall.”

“
And
so are cigars…”

Torre glanced at the ash tray and then back at his son. “I see
your humour is getting better,” he chuckled.

“
And
your health isn’t.”

“
Let
me worry about my health.”

“
I
am not worrying about your health,” he lied. “It is Mother who I am
concerned about. When you slowly kill yourself, she’ll still have
us, but she’ll need you.”

“
But
at least I would finally be out of your life,” Torre added, with a
smug look on his face. “I know it is what you want. If you’d like
to know…I have forgiven you a long time ago, Marco. But that does
not mean I am not still upset over the entire matter.”

“
I
did nothing for you to be upset over. I—I simply did not want to
own vineyards. I never said that I was above doing so…I just wanted
to make my own success. Surely you can understand that.”

“
I
do understand…but time does not justify your past actions. You were
the one who left in your youthful obstinacy.”

“
I
had no choice. You were treating me as if I was a boy.”

“
In
my eyes you still were!” Torre crackled, his voice booming
throughout the room. Marco frowned at him, brushing the lock of his
hair that was now hanging before his eye. “You—you were my
favourite. As much as I hate to admit it, you still are! But you
condone any fatherly advice I offered.”

“
That is not true…”

“
My
father—your grandfather, Emilio Mussolini, was a very wealthy man…a
lot more than even I am today and he had never granted me the
privileges that I have granted you or your siblings. I expected you
to be grateful that I wanted to pass on my accomplishments to you.
And even if you didn’t…at least pretend for my sake.”

“
That’s the point, Father,” Marco muttered. “I am not the type
to pretend.”

Torre sighed lowly and then walked back around to the back of
his desk and sat down. “I have things to do. This conversation has
come to an end.” Marco opened his mouth to utter something and then
halted himself, turning to exit the room. He still did not
understand why his father could not accept that he had done what he
had because it had been the right thing to do. But had he handled
matters the right way eight years ago? Marco disembarked the
staircase quickly and then stepped onto the glistening mahogany
flooring of the living room where he saw Meagan enter from the
sitting room. Almost instantly, he felt as if a large burden had
been lifted from his shoulders and he gazed at her; he was happy to
see her.

“
Uh...what is wrong with you?” she muttered quietly, as he
pulled her into his embrace.

“
I’ve missed you.”

She
laughed. “You saw me like half hour ago.”

“
What is your point?” he responded, his eyes glistening like
small sparks of electricity.

“
Nothing. I met your brother earlier…and your
father.”

“
Yes…so I have heard. Listen, I need to speak with you. Where
are my mother and sister?”

“
Uh…yes. They are sitting on the lawn with your brother. What
do you want to talk about?”

“
Not
here,” Marco hissed softly, pulling her by the arm and almost off
her feet, out unto the corridor towards the guest house.

“
Is
something wrong?” she asked as he pulled her into the
compartment.

Marco released her grip on him and then sighed. He looked at
her once and then down at the floor. “I need your help.”

Meagan’s eyes narrowed on him and she folded her arms. “You
want
my
help?”

“
Yes.”

“
Go
on…,” she muttered, now raising her chin proudly.

“
I
am not a criminal,” he replied and sat on the white leather sofa,
glanced at the large white ornamental vase boasting freshly cut
blue Cornflowers, and finally turning his rather arrogant demeanour
down a notch. “I do not transport drugs to Northern
Africa.”

Meagan sighed and looked away. “A lot of people
do.”

“
And
so do you.”

“
Of
course I do. All the available evidence points to you,” she said,
glaring at him. “How can I think otherwise?”

He
stood at that point and she took two steps back. He seemed even
taller than usual or maybe it was because she was now wearing
flats. “I understand. But I am asking you to give me the benefit of
the doubt. Help me clear my reputation. Look, either I am trapped
at my home or on my boat. Wherever I go, the media wants to eat me
alive. I want to be a free man again. I want you to help
me.”

She
shook her head and sighed. “I am here pretending to be your fiancée
for a stupid story…and you want me to get involved in something
else?”

“
Yes. No good deed goes without a reward,” he responded, now
only a foot away from her. “I think someone is trying to ruin my
life and I don’t know why.”

“
Why
would someone want to ruin your life?”

“
I
do not know.”

“
Well, do you gamble? Have you ever done any bad business
sales?”

“
No…and absolutely no.” His face twisted with
anxiety.

“
I’m
a journalist…not an FBI agent.”

Marco stepped closer to her and sighed, his features very
melancholy and pleading. “I wish you not make me beg.”

She
tried not to meet his eyes because she knew that if she had, she
probably would have said yes far too quickly. Instead, she looked
at the broad walls of his chest and said, “I will see what I can
do.” And watched his lips curl into a sexy smile.

“Grazie! Grazie
!” he exclaimed and each side of her small beautiful face in
his palms. He kissed her lightly on one cheek and then the
next.

“
Okay…,” she drawled and then brushed his hands away. “My
laptop is at the hotel.”

“
I
do not wish to stay here much longer. You shall use mine when we
arrive at my home.”