Italian Boss, Ruthless Revenge. Carol Marinelli
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with Mancini than Malvolio does, and I will ensure it is extremely favourable.’
‘How?’ Caitlyn frowned. ‘How can you write my reference when you don’t know anything about me?’
‘Oh, but I think I do.’ Her words, only spoken through his lips now. He stared over at her—little, but strong and, unlike his brother-in-law, unlike the father of the baby, this stranger actually gave a damn about the woman who was carrying his child.
‘I will get the forms and have your pay made up. I will do it on Monday—that way, if you change your mind over the weekend—’
‘Could you get the forms now, please?’ She wasn’t looking at him now, instead staring out of his vast windows somewhere over his shoulder at the Melbourne city skyline. ‘I won’t be changing my mind.’
‘Just think about it.’
‘I’d like the forms now.’
This time she didn’t add please.
This time Lazzaro knew there was no persuading her otherwise.
‘Where’s Malvolio?’
Storming through the Admin corridors, Lazzaro caught everyone by surprise. Admin staff with bags over their shoulders, hoping to slope off a little early, suddenly sat back down and started tapping at blank screens; the raucous laughter coming from the boardroom that signalled end-of-week drinks that Lazzaro supplied for his team, which should start at five but in fact seemed to start around lunchtime, snapped off as if the power had been pulled as he stormed into rather unfamiliar territory. His suite was on the top floor, and he had a private lift that absolutely bypassed the usually well-oiled engines of Admin.
But come five p.m. on Friday, the wheels fell off somewhat!
‘He’s gone!’ Audrey Miller, Malvolio’s assistant, gave an anxious smile. ‘He had to dash off—Antonia rang and said she was having some cramps…’
‘Antonia’s in labour?’
‘I’m not sure.’ Audrey gulped. ‘But the staff got a bit excited, as you can see…’
There wasn’t a hope in hell of getting the termination forms—let alone a final cheque cut.
He’d deal with the lot of them on Monday.
Right now, his sister could be in labour.
His brother-in-law by her side.
The same brother-in-law who had forced Caitlyn Bell’s resignation for all the wrong reasons.
CHAPTER TWO
DAMN!
Pacing the floor of the huge office, Caitlyn paused for a moment to blow her nose again, and rummaged in her bag for her compact, powdering her reddened face and telling herself to hold it together for just a little while longer.
She’d surely get another job—but she also needed those three blasted payslips just in case the court ruling went against her mother.
It wouldn’t, Caitlyn consoled herself. Their lawyer had assured them that everything was under control. A moan of horror escaped her lips at the thought of that same lawyer’s bill, sitting on the dining room table—a bill that had to be paid before he’d proceed further.
What the hell was she going to do?
She’d lied to Lazzaro about a second interview with the Mancini chain—she hadn’t even had the first interview yet. Her application was still sitting half-typed on her computer! Actually, she’d lied to Lazzaro about everything. There had been no discussion about a promotion; Malvolio had just been his usual sleazy self. She’d been sitting on her afternoon break, minding her own business, when he’d come into the coffee room and again suggested they catch up for a drink after work.
Again she’d declined.
‘You’ve got something in your hair.’
He’d come over, had stood behind her where she sat, and, as if being touched by a lizard, she’d flinched as his hand had made contact with her hair. She had screwed her eyes closed as he’d brushed something that surely wasn’t there away, wishing the horrible moment over, only the horror hadn’t even begun. The lizard had been on the move.
‘Come on, Caitlyn…stop teasing me…’
His filthy hands had crept down; she’d been able to hear his breath coming short and hard behind her.
‘I’m not teasing you…’ Her head had been spinning. The confrontation she’d dreaded—dreaded but convinced herself would never happen, that she was surely imagining things—was actually here. ‘Malvolio, you’re married…’
‘Antonia….’ His hand had moved down. ‘She is so wrapped up in herself and the baby. You and I could be so good together….’
Paralysed, she’d sat, watched his fingers sneaking at the top of her dress, her brain literally frozen. It had been like being stuck in a nightmare, where you couldn’t scream. She’d known that by doing nothing she was implying consent…and if she couldn’t speak, if she couldn’t scream, then there were two other choices that had sprung to her panicked mind: vomit or bite.
Caitlyn had chosen the latter!
She could still hear his screams of rage—hear again the vile torrent of words he’d spat at her as he’d jumped back—and, like a child, she put her hands over her ears, blocked out what he had said to her. She just didn’t want to go there right now.
How, Caitlyn begged herself as she resumed her pacing, could he think she’d teased him? She’d gone out of her way to avoid him, though she had felt his unwelcome eyes on her for months now, had done everything possible to avoid… Her eyes shuttered in wretched horror. The consequences of her resignation were starting to hit home. The prospect of going home and telling her mother that she no longer had work… Oh, a chambermaid’s wage wasn’t going to change the world, but for now at least it meant holding onto her mother’s.
A single mother, Helen Bell had done everything to provide not just for her daughter, but for her own father. When Caitlyn’s grandmother had died, two years after Caitlyn was born, concerned about her father’s declining health and mounting financial problems, Helen had moved back to the family home, working several jobs to pay the mortgage and bills and had gradually cleared his debts. It hadn’t all been a struggle, though—the home had been a happy one, with Caitlyn’s grandfather more than happy to mind his grandchild while Helen worked hard. And in later years, as his health had declined, both Helen and Caitlyn had in turn been more than happy to care for him—nursing him at home right till the end.
Caitlyn’s aunt Cheryl had rarely put in an appearance—until after the funeral. Of course the family home Helen had worked so hard to keep and pay for had been left to her. But Cheryl had had it valued—the beachside suburb close to the city was prime real estate now—and Cheryl wanted not only the generous cash sum that her father had bequeathed to her in his will, but half the value of the family home. Egged on by Roxanne and a greedy lawyer, she was moving heaven and earth to ensure that she got it.
‘Bloody Roxanne and Aunty Cheryl…’ Caitlyn hissed. Why couldn’t they just leave them alone?
The ringing of the phone halted her pacing for less than a second. Her mind was so consumed with her own problems that at first she didn’t even give it a glance.
She needed work so badly, but here it would be impossible. Lazzaro was hardly going to fire his own brother-in-law. It would be her word against his. And what about Malvolio’s poor wife? How—?
The phone resumed its shrill, and irritated now, unable to ignore it, Caitlyn picked it up.
‘Lazzaro Ranaldi’s phone. This is Caitlyn Bell speaking.’
She didn’t notice Lazzaro come in at first, just listened as a rather exasperated female voice demanded that