His Discarded Bride #thefictionawards2019

Part Eight

 CHAPTER SEVEN

"You were supposed to stay with her the entire day, Camilla. Where the hell is she?"

"Relax, Renato. I left her in good hands. Surely your wife doesn't need a babysitter?" Camilla had made the necessary arrangements, and when Leilani insisted that Camilla need not stick around for the entire day, well, Camilla saw no reason to argue the point. The woman was a dead bore, and any other task she had would be preferable to sticking around with Leilani.

"I will relax when my fiancée returns. For God's sake, she is a foreigner in a strange country who has already been hounded by the media. What on earth possessed you to leave her side?" Renato paced the floor phone in hand. The one thing he hadn't thought of was to give Leilani a phone.

"Stop worrying. The driver is with her. I'll contact him and check on their whereabouts."

Camilla pulled out her phone and made contact with the driver. Camilla didn't need to speak to him for reassurance. With a bit of light flirting with the driver, she made sure he had been putty in her hands. She'd asked him to contact her hourly with updates, and the poor eager fool had called her every forty-five minutes, anticipating some naughtiness that she definitely wouldn't be committing to.

"Well?" Renato barked impatiently when she walked into his home.

"Just as I thought: they are approaching Pontelandolfo now. See? I told you there was no need to worry. Come have a drink with me and relax a little before your guests start arriving. You seem so wound up," she poured a shot of fine single-malt Dalmore scotch over ice and handed it to Renato.

Camilla had a reasonably good reason to suspect that his precious bride-to-be was unfaithful. If Camilla were to confront Renato with the information, he would think she was catty. Besides, the proof wasn't concrete enough for Renato's standards, and, possibly, he wouldn't considering that this was surely a marriage of convenience. She would hold onto the information; after all, knowledge of any Favalli scandal was definitely an opportunity.

Renato rubbed his temple and downed the drink. He needed space from Camilla and ordered her to go check on the catering and staff. Truthfully, he was furious with Camilla for leaving Leilani in Rome on her own. She was his future wife, and he owed Leilani his protection. His phone rang, and the doorbell peeled with the arrival of guests. "Pronto."

"Ren, I've just heard from my man who was tailing your fiancée and driver today."

Savino's findings did not lighten Renato's mood. He would need to put on his best performance tonight, and then later, he would ensure his wife understood some ground rules.

Leilani's heart was racing faster as they neared the town of Pontelandolfo. What a day it had been. On top of all that she had been through, she now had to face a crowd of strangers, all dolled up to the point of ridiculousness, and she was unrecognizable, she was sure, to even her mother.

By mid-morning she'd already suffered enough embarrassment to pluck up the courage and tell Camilla that she would be okay for the day with the schedule and a driver. Relief had visibly washed over Camilla's face, and, after a few quick phone calls, Leilani was assured that she was being left in good hands to get her ready for the ball.

The first port of call had been to a very exclusive day spa, where she had been subjected to waxing, scrubbing, massaging, and all kinds of lotions. It was while she still had a red upper lip and eyebrows that she decided Camilla no longer needed to witness her complete humiliation. With the woman gone, Leilani tried to relax. The beauticians simultaneously worked on a manicure and pedicure while she worked out a way to see Anselmo without a word of it getting back to Renato.