His Discarded Bride #thefictionawards2019

Part Eighteen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Renato watched as he allowed the car to take Leilani away from him. Her words were true; he and Vittorio had manipulated and forced her into a marriage to suit their purpose, neither showing her any care or respect. It was no wonder that she was desperate to get away from him now.

Renato needed to fix things; he may not love the woman, but he was not soulless. He'd broken her with his callous actions, and it was up to him to make it right. Maybe then she would come back to him.

He'd grown used to having her with him, sharing breakfast, and their lovemaking. He berated himself for his thoughts; maybe he truly was just a ruthless, selfish person, only thinking of his needs. Renato was worried about her. The vacant, desolate look was the most concerning. She was defeated. He'd seen it in her eyes, and that damage was his fault, pure and simple.

Entering Vittorio's apartment, he confronted the man, "What have we done?"

Vittorio was sitting alone in the sitting room, facing the window. "She lied to me."

Renato wasn't sure if the old man was talking to him or himself. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"My Rosa. I'd have done anything for that woman. Even after she left, I kept helping her, and all these years, she was scamming me," he breathed.

It was difficult to discern whether Vittorio was angered or in awe of Rosa's duplicity. "How is this even possible? In a town this small, surely you would have known if Rosa were seeing someone else," he questioned.

"I think it's about time we got to the bottom of this, son, don't you?"

He had to agree and took note of the fact that he was once again titled son. In all the confusion of Leilani's birthright, it had been a while since Vittorio had acknowledged him as his. He waited as Vittorio made the arrangements.

Leilani asked the driver to take her out of the city. The driver had asked her if she preferred a country town or another city area. She'd responded that she didn't mind a crowd, just as long as it wasn't anywhere near Rome. The driver nodded his head, obviously noticing her pathetic state, "Don't worry about a thing. You will be feeling as good as new soon enough; I have the perfect place for you to stay," he reassured her.

She thanked him politely and looked out the window mindlessly, not hearing the soft music playing in the car or the sounds of the traffic. She was numb, and she didn't know how to reconnect with herself and the world.

They stopped at the airport, and if Leilani was surprised, she didn't show it. Instead, she allowed herself to be ushered to a private jet, where she was taken on a short journey to Venice. After landing, Leilani was taken by private boat to her hotel, the Belmond Hotel Cipriani.

The hotel was stunning, and, under normal circumstances, Leilani would have been awed by the magic of this building sitting on the tip of the exclusive Guidecca Island.

Thankfully, she was taken to her room fairly quickly, though it was no ordinary room. She would be staying in the Palladio Suite. It was opulently furnished with local artefacts and Murano glass, if she wasn't mistaken.

There was plump, overstuffed furniture and the most incredible views of the lagoon from both her bedroom and the living room. The floor-to-ceiling windows gave the illusion that her room was afloat in the water, isolated off a coast with a small city across the expanse in the distance.

Not knowing what to do, she explored the rooms quietly, and even the marble spa bathroom had water views. She made her way out onto her private terrace and, slipping out of her strappy sandals, popped a toe into the water of the oversized dipping pool. Perfectly heated. It was a shame she didn't have her swimmers with her.