Chapter 19: Chapter 19

It’s been a week since Alice’s wedding. I am so glad that nothing bad happened to anyone during those days. I was so worried that the Russians will come and ruin everything but I guess it’s just my anxiety talking.

Tonight; Richie and I are having dinner at Cappadocia Restaurant; it’s the most amazing restaurant in America. And the invite is almost impossible to get but you know, it can’t be impossible for Richie Moranzino.

I look at my reflection one last time before heading out of the room. I am wearing a black cocktail dress Marta recently designed for me. It’s very beautiful and it fits like a glove, hugging in the right places. It is an off-shoulder gown so it is wrapped around my shoulders, showing my neck which I top up with a simple Cartier necklace. I stepped into a pair of black heels, grabbed my purse, and then head out of the room.

Walking down the stairs, I see Richie pacing around in the living room. "Yes... yes, of course. That will not be happening." Richie says, talking on the phone with someone. "I don’t care, just get the damn documents before it gets into the wrong hands."

The sound of my heels clicking on the hardwood floor had his eyes snap up at me. Richie looks at me from head to toe, eyes darkening by the second. "I have to go now. Make sure you do as I say." He said to the person on the other line, not taking his eyes off me.

"I don’t think I can ever get tired of telling you how beautiful you are." He says to me tugging his phone into his pocket.

I roll my eyes, blushing "Thanks," I say

He walked over to me with his signature smirk, he ask "Ready?"

"Yes." He wraps an arm around my waist and we walked out of the room.

We got off the elevator and stepped into the lobby. I could see paparazzi from here standing outside just waiting for Richie to come out.

"It's going to be fine, Rach." He comforted me as if he sensed I was nervous.

I look up and offer a small smile as a 'thank you'. I stood between him and Brad, his hulk of a bodyguard.

The doors opened and the flashes went on and off along with the dozen questions they were shouting out.

Did they really expect anyone to answer like this?

"I like where your flavor is going Richie Moranzino." One paparazzi called out, referring to me as the flavor.

I resist the urge to punch him straight in his face.

How can someone be so disrespectful?

As the door opened I got into the car as quickly as I could in heels. Brad got into the driver's side and sped off the curb.

"Are you okay?" Richie ask.

"I'm not very fond of being referred to as a 'flavor'" I snap, not meaning to direct my anger at him.

I look over at him and notice his jaw was hard. "I'm fine," I say, hoping that would make him less tense.

"Paparazzi are pigs. Don't let them get to your head, that's what they want." He says.

Sooner than later we pull up to the restaurant and walk in, Richie was nearly pressed into my side as we walked together. We approach the table and he pulls my chair out for me before taking his own seat.

The waitress came and hand the menus and two glasses of wine, her eyes linger on Richie, but he didn’t notice.

"Can I get you anything, Mr. Moranzino?" She asks, trying to sound seductive.

Richie didn't even bother looking up from the menu as he shook his head. Her face fell slightly from the lack of attention he didn't give her and she walked away.

"That was disappointing," I say referring to how the waitress must be feeling right now. "The waitress was all over you and you didn’t even care to look at her."

He looks up at me and with a smirk, he says "Why will I look at another woman when I have you sitting across me."

I couldn't help but smile at that. He loves getting a reaction out of me. "Oh please." I take a sip of whatever type of wine the waitress bought for us. "You just love to flirt, don’t you?"

"I only flirt with my woman." He sips the wine.

This man right here knows his words. I take a look at the menu, it’s written in Italian.

I know the Italian language but I am not very fluent in it. I glance back up at him to see he hasn’t taken his eyes away from me. I raise an eyebrow, silently questioning his stare.

"You’re Italian, right?" I ask him.

He nodded.

"Well, you know this type of food better than me. I will get what you're having."

"Are you sure?" He asked

"Yeah, just don’t order something too buttery."

He nodded and looked down at the menu "How about Lumache alla Romana for an appetizer?"

I shrugged. "What is that?"

He smirked. "You'll see,"

Richie makes the order and a little while later the waitress approaches us with the dish. She places it on the table and then lifts the lid revealing the appetizer.

"Eww…. Are those.."

He nodded smiling "Yep."

Snails.

Gross. I’m going to be sick.

"I'm not eating that," I say. One of the phrases that I rarely say. I am not a picky eater, but snails! No way.

He pouted his lip out, looking ridiculously cute. "Come on, have a taste, it’s delicious."

"No, thank you." I say

He lifts one to my mouth "Please, just one."

I push his hand away as I curled my lip in disgust. "Ew, no.'

He smiles. "You're being childish."

"Because I won't eat a snail?"

He nods. "They're delicious," He says shoveling another bite of the snail into his mouth.

He just ate that poor little snail.

"You're gross,"

He used his hand to stifle a laugh. "Now I'm gross?" He ask, amused.

I nod. "Yes."

His smirk returned. "I'm far from gross, sweetheart."

I roll my eyes. "Don't call me that," I say, but my tone wasn't serious.

He takes a sip of wine, not breaking eye contact with me. "You're a very interesting woman, Rachel."

I raise an eyebrow, challenging him. "How so?" I was genuinely curious.

But before he could answer that question, the waitress approach us with our dinner and place it in front of us. When she revealed what was under the lid I nearly sighed in relief at the normal-looking pasta dish that has no snail in it.

I take a bit and I feel like my taste buds were having an orgasm. It is so good.

"Now this is what I call delicious," I say taking another bite.

He smirks and takes a bite. From his expression, I can tell that the pasta isn’t that good for him. He takes the mini cheese cup and begins to spoon cheese on his pasta.

"That’s too much cheese," I say taking it from his hand. "If you put too much cheese on the pasta you’ll lose the flavor of it." I begin to reduce the amount of cheese on his plate. I could feel his gaze on me but I refuse to look up at him.

"Can you quit with the staring?" I ask once I am done reducing the cheese. I look at him to see that signature smirk on his face

"I am so glad I chose you as my wife."

"We’re not married yet so don’t be faster than your shadow," I say but my tone wasn’t serious

The smirk grows and he says "It’s just a matter of time Amore mio."

After dinner, we head out of the restaurant and to my surprise some paparazzi were waiting for us to come out.

Aren’t they tired?

Richie’s arm is around my waist and as he did earlier, he walks side by side with me. And the bodyguards made sure the walk was clear. The paparazzi ranted lots of questions about my relationship with Richie and how it feels to be his secretary and fiancée.

We finally got into the car and the driver drove away. On the way, Richie was on call, he is talking In Italian language and from his tune, I pity the person he was speaking with.

I turn back to look through the window, scanning the environment. The bright sandy blonde ponytails of a beautiful little girl playing with flowers caught my eye. I look up at the store sign, All Yours Flowers; the wind blew, scattering small petals, whipping the little girl's hair around her face, and a small smile played on my lips. The sight was beautiful, I could see her mom smiling down at her.

My gaze turns away from them the moment I feel someone looking at me. I look further and see a muscular man dressed in a black shirt and pants. He looks like a bouncer or something. He has no expression on his face and his eyes never left mine. He takes a camera from his bag and snaps a photo of me.

What the hell was that?

I immediately whine the glass up and rest my back on the seat. That was quite strange but I think I should get used to it since I will be hanging out with someone popular.

"Are you okay?" Richie asks pulling the phone away from his ear.

I nod "Yeah." And Riche continues to talk on the phone.

After a few minutes of driving, we finally arrive home. I grab Richie’s outstretched hand and stepped out. Walking into the house, we saw a man standing in front of the door, it looks like he was waiting for our arrival. He approach us and said something in Italian to Richie. Richie responds to him in Italian before introducing me to the person.

"Rachel, this is Pablo, my…. friend, and Pablo I’m sure you’ve heard Rachel before."

"Of course, it’s nice to finally meet you, Rachel," Pablo says with a smile

"You too." I return the smile he offered.

"Rach, why don’t you go ahead, I will come up in a second," Richie said

"Okay."

"Don’t worry, Rachel I won’t keep Richie here for long," Pablo says smiling as I walk past him.

There is absolutely no way I will just walk away like that. I have to know what they are up to. From that expression on Richie’s face, I can tell that something is going on and I will find out what that is.

I stopped by the stairs and stood there to eavesdrop on their conversation. Their voices aren’t audible enough for me to hear but I could still listen to a couple of words. I heard something about documents and the study room. I think it’s about an illegal immigrant but I’m not sure.

Still listening to their conversation, I hear them say something about a man named Ezra. I can’t hear every word they say because they are talking in both English and Italian.

God! This is so frustrating.

I decide to go into the room because I can’t afford to get caught. This information is enough for me to know what I need to do.

**

The next few hours went by and it was now nearly midnight. I didn’t sleep at all, I wanted to make sure that Richie and everyone had gone to bed. I turn around to check if Richie is sleeping, and as I realize he is, I got out of bed and grabbed my phone before opening the door.

I stuck my head out and check the hallway to see if anyone is there. When the coast was clear I check on Richie one more time before I walk quietly downstairs. The whole house was dark and I figure everyone was sleeping. The moon shining in from the windows was the only light source I had to see.

I walk past each room until I finally found the door to Richie’s study. I reach for the handle and twisted-but of course it's locked.

I silently cursed and then take out my phone to turn on the flashing light. I look all around maybe for a spare key under the rug or in the plant down the hall.

Nothing.

I come back to the door and reach the top of the frame. At the tip of my fingers, I feel something cold and when I finally was able to get a grip on it, I grab it and want to cheer when I saw it was the key I needed.

I look around one more time before unlocking the door, opening it, and quietly shutting it. Across from me is his desk and behind that were storage cabinets and shelves. I got behind the large wooden desk and open each drawer, flipping through the papers and files he had in there.

I am not sure what I am looking for but anything that can get Richie in severe loss will be considered okay by me.

I continue to look and had to stop when I came to the next drawer because it was locked.

Shit!

Again, I search for a key and had a feeling I wouldn't be so lucky this time. Maybe I'd just YouTube how to unlock something without the key.…… My head snaps up when I hear giggles from the other side of the drawer.

Quickly I hid in the best place I could...

Under the desk.

The door opened the second I got under. I brought my knees to my chest and put my hand over my mouth to keep from making any noise.

"Brad stop." Some girl giggled flirtatiously.

Barf.

"I can't keep my hands off you, Buttercup." Brad, Richie’s bodyguard purred.

Buttercup?! What the actual hell?

Listening to their conversation, I realized the girl is a servant while the guy is Brad, Richie’s bodyguard.

"I want you to do what you did last night." She cooed

"How about right on this desk?"

Oh God no. My eyes went wide.

"No! Not here, we aren’t even supposed to be here. If they find us here we will be fired. Why don’t you take me to the spare bedroom."

For the love of God, please take her to the spare bedroom.

"This is the only free space in the house. We can never get cut here."

"In that case, I want you. Now." The girl says

A moment later, I hear them suck each other's faces off.

"You’ve ever eaten pussy before?" Brad ask her

"No"

"I want to eat your pussy." I hear him say. My eyes widen as I feel disgusted by them.

"Take off your clothes," Brad says and I instantly shake my head in disagreement. I stand up from where I was

"No, no, no. Do not take off your clothes. I repeat, Do not take off your clothes." I say with my eyes close. I don’t want to see something I will regret.

"Miss…Ma’am…. I-"

"Are you both fully dressed?" I cut off her ramble.

"Yes."

I peeked before opening my eyes completely.

"Ma’am, please don’t tell anyone about us. We will be fired if you do."

"Where is the key to that cabinet?" I point at the locked cabinet. I figured if I can’t find the key I can at least use them to know where the key is.

"We don’t know." She responds

"Okay." I sigh

"Wait a minute, I think I know where the key is. It’s with Boss, he has the key to everything in here." Brad says

I guess I have to dig into Richie’s closet to get the keys. They begin to beg me to keep their little dirty secret but I tell them to leave and never come back here. I am not going to say anything to anyone because I don’t care.

I walk out of the study and headed to my room. The moment I walked in, the first thing that caught my attention was the window banging because of the wind blowing through it.

I look at Richie, he is sound asleep. He must be a deep sleeper for not waking up by the sounds the window was making. I was about to close the window when I saw the bouncer I saw earlier on the street. He is standing on the sidewalk, there is no expression on his face and once again he takes his camera and takes a photo of me.

Who the hell is he?