For Angelo (Full-Length Standalone Italian Billionaire Romance) (3 page)

“I don’t hate my grandfather.” Lane whispered the words like a vow. “
I don’t.
But sometimes, I can’t help wondering, I can’t help asking God…
how can a person be so cruel?
”

Ah, God.

A single tear trailed down her cheek, ruining her makeup and maybe the rest of her life as well.

Damn you, Dad. I see what you’ve done now.

Lane’s question was so damn simple, and yet for all the years Nellie had spent studying in the best schools, she realized then that none of it had prepared her to answer such a question.

Only people with good hearts like Lane, people who weren’t like herself, could ask…and answer such questions.

“Everyone told me that I should be ashamed of my mother because of what she did,” Lane whispered. “But you see, I knew that she had done it…” She was visibly struggling to breathe. “I knew she had done it for
me.
I knew she thought there was no other way to raise me but to s-sell her b-body, and my grandfather—”

The girl choked back a sob, and Nellie wanted to choke the life out of the girl’s grandfather, if only the old man wasn’t already dead.

“He was supposed to be the smart one,” Lane finished brokenly. “He was supposed to be the
educated
one, so why—” The girl shook her head as if she was still unable to believe what she remembered…and lived through. “I
begged
him to help us pay for my mother’s bills, N-Nellie.
I went down on my knees
…”

Lane looked at Nellie with a gaze made dull by pain.
 

“But he said no. He said he would rather see my mother die than have his grandchild with him, and now…”
 

Nellie’s fingers dug deep into her palms, struggling to resist the urge to take the younger girl into her arms.

“My mother’s dead, and he’s dead, too.”
Lane’s voice became toneless. “All that’s left is the money and I know it’s stupid, but I can’t s-stop thinking that if t-there wasn’t any money to begin with, then m-maybe everyone would still be alive. Maybe e-everyone would still be a-alive…and happy.”

****

Norman Mortimer knocked on the door of his daughter’s office but didn’t wait for her to answer, opening it and thus catching Nellie unaware. She was seated behind her table, eyes swollen with tears and her makeup completely ruined.

“I hate you.” But his daughter sounded more weary than furious.

Norman looked around the office. “Where’s your client?”

“She’s gone.” Nellie’s normally sophisticatedly sweet voice was harsh. “You really thought you’d get what you want? You’ll make me like you?” Nellie shook her head even as her heart cracked. “Someone who spends his entire life doing charity work, to the point of ignoring his own daughter’s existence?”
 

Norman’s heart sank. “You turned her away.”

“
Because of you.
” Nellie refused to acknowledge the way her heart kept breaking. “I told her I’m not the best person for her case and I’ll look for someone else to take over.”

Norman didn’t speak for a long time.

Nellie’s fists clenched and unclenched. She forced herself to remember all the nights she had cried herself to sleep, the way her dad kept breaking his promises to be there. On her birthdays. Her recitals. Or even just to read her a bedtime story. She had cried so much that in the end, all the tears inside her had dried.

Or so she had thought…until now.

Her father was still standing in front of her, and the way he gazed at Nellie made her sneer. “You didn’t win, Daddy. I’m still the bitch you made me to be.” She waited for him to yell at her, to fly into a rage like he always did.

But all he did was smile sadly.
 

“I never thought you were a bitch. Never will. You’ll always be Daddy’s little girl, and when I learned about Ms. Petersen’s case, I knew you were the only one who could help her.”

“Because she’s my ticket to heaven?” she asked snidely even as the urge to cry came back at her father’s unexpected words.

“Because I saw you in her, the way you were when you were young. Your mother kept telling you my work was more important than my family, but you refused to listen to her...even if back then she had been right. You still insisted on waiting up for me, until you fell asleep on the bottom of the stairs, and I’d come home to find your cheeks wet with your—”

“Shut up, Dad.” She stalked to the windows, turning her back on him, not wanting her dad to see her face.

“Laura Petersen may have been a prostitute her entire life, but she’s a damn better parent than I ever was. She succeeded where I failed.” Her dad’s voice became gruff. “But Laura’s gone and I think…”

Nellie knew Norman was waiting for her to speak, but she refused to acknowledge in any way that she had heard his words.

“I think only someone like you, someone who was hurt the same way, can make sure Lane’s alright.”
 

****

Hope was like the last drops of water in a nearly empty glass, but Lane Petersen fought to see it in another way. Hope still existed, the glass was
still
filled, and that was what mattered.

The rest of her life stretched before her, terrifying in its blankness.
 

But still, Lane refused to be defeated.

Her mother Laura was now her guardian angel, and she refused to believe that God and Laura would ever let her down. Together, those two were
unbeatable—

An icy cold wind slapped her face as if Hell was challenging her, but Lane only pulled her thin coat around her more tightly.
 

Winter was coming
, she though randomly, tempting Lane into hysterics.
 

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.
It’s not going to be the end of the world. I’m going to be okay. I—

Someone tapped her from behind.

—
ended up jumping three feet in the air.

Lane spun around.

A guy in a suit was standing behind her, looking harried. “Lane Petersen?”

She didn’t answer, suspicious and wary.

“You
are
Lane Petersen, right? Ms. Mortimer wanted me to give you this.” He handed her an envelope.

A letter?

She accepted it with suddenly trembling hands, and the trembling only worsened as she opened the envelope and took out the note inside it.
 

Dear Ms. Petersen,

Forgive my lapse of judgment, but also allow me a moment to speak the unvarnished truth with you. I’m just about the most cynical and selfish woman in the world. I don’t do affection and I don’t even like rainbows or the Care Bears.
 

If, after knowing this, you still think I’m a good fit, then it would be my honor to represent your case and regardless of the results, I would like to give you my personal assurance that you have nothing to worry about. I will do my utmost best to ensure that you have the means to start over.

It is the least I can do for someone whose courage, naiveté – oh, sorry, I mean optimism – is an inspiration.

And if I may, I would like you to know that I think you are absolutely lucky that you had someone like Laura Petersen as a mother.
 

I only wish I had the privilege of meeting her in this lifetime.

Yours,

Nellie Mortimer

“Ms. Petersen?” Jeff, the paralegal sent to go after Lane Petersen, was dumbfounded when he saw the younger girl’s tear-stained face. “I w-was asked to w-wait for your reply,” he stammered uneasily, all the while thinking that the owner’s daughter, Nellie Mortimer, was really the selfish bitch everyone thought she was, to make a pro bono client cry.

But he ended up confused when the girl choked out, “Please tell Ms. Mortimer t-that she j-just made me believe in unicorns. And Care Bears.”

“Riiiiiiight.” Jeff slowly turned around as the girl behind him started laughing and crying.

Crazy girl,
he thought. Maybe she was a good match for Nellie Mortimer after all.

Chapter One

Two Years Later

His laughter was the first thing Lane noticed.
 

It was unlike anything she had ever heard before, and she had been doing inventory when she heard it. At first, she had thought her mind was playing tricks on her. Surely no one could laugh with such shameless iniquity? Surely no one could be so blatantly wicked, so defiantly immoral?

But then she had heard it again, and Lane realized that she hadn’t imagined it at all. She looked up, heart beating madly as she scanned the sea of faces across the road. It had to be one of those students coming out of Christopoulos University, which was opposite the convenience store where she worked.
 

But try as she might, none of the guys she saw seemed to fit the bill. None of them seemed to be powerful or strong enough to sound like a fallen angel, laughing so beautifully even in the face of eternal damnation.

Oh, if Nellie could hear me now
, Lane thought absently as she scrutinized the men’s faces. The thought made her smile and wince at the same time. Nellie would probably threaten to hit her on the head for being so foolishly romantic.
 

Moments passed, and hope started to fade. She turned away, thinking that maybe tomorrow would be better—

And that was when she heard it again, this time so, so close it was almost like he was right behind her—

Wait, what if he was right behind her?

Lane whirled around so fast she lost her balance, and she fell flat on her butt with a tiny cry.
 

A shadow fell over her world, and then she found herself staring straight into a pair of silvery gray eyes.
 

Almost like a fallen angel
, she thought dazedly,
dropping from the sky.

“Are you okay?” His voice was faintly accented.
Italian,
she guessed dizzily as she took the hand offered to her. It was warm and electrifying, and the shock of it had Lane stiffening.

“Just static electricity,” the stranger said easily as he released her hand.

No
, Lane thought, even more dazed now. It wasn’t. But she was too much in awe to argue. On her feet, she found him even taller than he appeared initially. Slowly, her gaze met his eyes again, and this time Lane took the rest of him in. This time, it finally dawned on her just how beautiful the man before her was.
 

Words like ‘handsome’ and ‘good-looking’ wouldn’t cut it.
 

He was
beautiful.

It was the only way to describe him.

It was also one thing she was
not.

She suddenly remembered how she looked. Hair twisted up in a careless bun, her old pair of eyeglasses perched on her too-small nose, her face without a touch of makeup.
 

She also remembered what she had been and what she was supposed to be doing. She was in the middle of inventory for deliveries, and she was dressed for it, too, a faded apron over her shirt and jeans.

“You’re good?”

She nodded dumbly.
 

I’m good.
 

And I’m infatuated.

Lane didn’t care if the thought made her foolish and insane.

All she knew was that this beautiful stranger made her blood sing like no other man had ever done.
 

She had the biggest crush on this fallen angel of hers, and that was that.

She remembered Laura telling her stories about how she had fallen in love with Lane’s father. She remembered asking her mother, when she was a little older and wiser, how Laura could still cherish the memory even when her father had proven to be anything but prince-like. And she remembered how Laura had blinked at her like she shouldn’t have asked the question at all.