Read Monza (Formula Men #1) Online
Authors: Pamela Ann
Luca di Medici, Italy’s number one racecar driver, is set to inherit his father’s billion dollar automotive empire. Women would donate their left kidney just to spend a night of debauchery with the infamous rogue. Sounds like the perfect life, doesn’t it?
It could’ve been, if I hadn’t stumbled upon her some months ago.
From dusk until dawn, she was with me, in my arms, in my mind, and in my heart
She wanted commitment, but I wasn’t ready.
She told me she understood, and I thought she did, until I heard she was married a month later.
For me to say I felt betrayed would be an understatement. I wanted revenge, to hurt her and make her pay.
And I was going to get it, one way or the other.
Hell hath no fury like an Italian man spurned.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
Copyright © 2015 by Pamela Ann
All rights reserved.
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Unless it’s mad, passionate, extraordinary love, it’s a waste of your time. There are too many mediocre things in life; Love shouldn’t be one of them.”
~ Dreams for an Insomniac
Are you heading somewhere?” She gradually opened the door to the bathroom, watching me as I got out of the shower, her eyes noting everything like a hawk would their prey.
It was after all six in the morning. Rather an unusual time to shower on a Sunday. Had I not gotten the call that had made me roll out of bed, I’d still be securely fast asleep and wrapped in her body’s warmth. But alas, the call was imminent and needed my attention. “Unfortunately yes. A friend of mine is in trouble—and I think I’m the only person she’ll listen to.” Grazia was one of my closest friends, who also happened to be an ex-girlfriend of mine. She was a social drug user but ever since we broke up, she’s been spiraling out of control. Her family’s been trying to get her into rehab but to no avail. If there was one person who could convince her to get treatment, it was me. So as much as I despised leaving Kimberly after spending every waking moment with her for the past two weeks, I knew I had to sacrifice a little of my happiness to help a someone who meant a great deal to me.
Pondering as her brows furrowed, she released a sigh before making a curt nod. “If it’s really that important to you then I understand completely.” Her words meant to reassure me, and yet she was far from fine. In fact, she seemed downright uneasy about it. Her lip licking, a cute habit if I might add, easily gave her nervousness away. She was sweet, but her possessive side of her was slowly coming to light, and I must say I found it rather endearing and hellishly sexy at the same.
She had nothing to worry about. I was enamored with her truly, madly, unceasingly. I might not have voiced it out, but my actions should suffice. Going over to where she was curiously leaning against the doorframe, my chest tightened at the thought of her seeking other men’s company while I was away. I knew she was new to this country, but Italian men weren’t really subtle with their intentions when it came to women. If they want it, they would chase it—
it until it was theirs. We were a passionate breed, and I had always lauded that fact…until this very instance. Her beauty was a weakness, and for the first time in my life, I had this urge to simply keep her somewhere safe until I was back...my unusual train of thought made me frown a little. I wasn’t sure which was more troubling; the fact that I wanted to keep her away from prying eyes or this maddening pull to always keep her safe. I was never this sort—never—so for my thoughts to tread along these emotions were rather…dangerous.
I’ll miss you—”
Her melancholy face was doing a hefty deal tugging at my heart. “I’ll be back before you know it—behave while I’m away,
She beamed before raising her brow to taunt me, challenge me. “I shall try.”
To her, this might all be a tease, but I had this inkling that wouldn’t seem to ebb away. “Promise me that you will,
.” I wasn’t necessarily begging, but I was getting there.
She appeared amused, eyes glittering as she gazed at me before she wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered into my ear, “I promise, Luca.”
I made an animalistic growl when I felt her pull the towel that was loosely wrapped around my hips with a wicked agenda in mind. She had no idea how much it meant to me, watching her get on her knees and persistently worship me with fervor on a daily basis. I needed this—her—all of it. When I get back, she and I desperately needed to discuss where we were heading. Because from where I was standing, she was perfectly suited for me, in every sense of the matter.
Maybe this impending trip would be a good way to sort out our feelings for each other. We got together in such a heady, speedy rate, maybe it would benefit us to have some time apart. After all, they did say absence makes the heart grow fonder.
It took nothing more than a mere second—a blink, a heartbeat, a breath—for everything to drastically change, shifting your world inside out and upside down. Then, when all fight had left you, the moment you shut your eyes, you knew nothing would ever be the same again.
That thought occurred to me when my car skidded off the track, heading towards a formidable concrete wall.
Upon the moment of impact, I heard the loud bang of my car smashing against it. Along with the hair-raising sound of metal crunching upon collision, there was the acrid stench of petrol combined with smoke fumes burning into my nostrils.
My senses took it all in, acutely noting each mind-bending change in my surrounding. However, I couldn’t feel my body. Using all my might, I couldn’t for the life of me move my limbs.
In the far distance, I could hear the sirens heading towards me.
I should have panicked, yet that emotion wasn’t present. It was as if my body was not there at all, as if I was disconnected from it.
I probably was, given the speedy rate I had been going.
The sound of people running towards me made me feel somewhat hopeful. Maybe there was something to be done, and it wasn’t too late…
Signore Luca! Per favore,
riesci a sentirmi?”
(Can you hear me?)
From what I could gather, there was a team of people trying to pry my door open.
His troubling question made me want to respond to him, to simply ask him not to scream so loudly, but that thought immediately escaped me when I suddenly felt weak, thanks to the foul stench of petrol burning my lungs, making it quite impossible to breathe.
Just as I had wished, I was going to die on the racetrack of Monza.
Amidst the stark darkness came a tiny slither of light. It reminded me of a darkened sky with one glimmering star to embellish the plain gloom of nightfall.
The seconds turned into minutes then hours. From there, I lost track of how long I kept staring at the small tincture of brightness.
I was still and unmoving from my spot. I wasn’t sure if I was sitting down, standing up, or simply lying somewhere. I hadn’t a clue. It was as if my body was nonexistent, and the only sense that was working was my sight, nothing more.
My eyes were glued to that one shimmering light, my mind a mass of confusion, enthrallment, and this odd feeling that I was awaiting my sentence. It felt like I couldn’t proceed until I was given permission. Like I said, it was rather peculiar, yet I knew that was what I must do.
And so I waited in the stillness surrounding me. There was no air, no sound at all, as if there was no life anywhere around me. It was deafening listening to nothing. It made me momentarily think of my ears popping due to pressure when I could only hear myself thinking and speaking, leaving the rest as a dulling nuisance in the background.
Serene calmness engulfed me. Relaxed and undaunted, I gradually shut my eyes, while another part of me thought it important to keep noting the string of light, wondering if it were to leave me in darkness soon. Regardless, the notion of keeping my concentration sharp completely left me as the temptation of shutting my lids conquered.
In that instant, I felt utterly complete, unlike any feeling I had experienced before. Contentment filled me. I felt one with my body, with my mind and every vital and lingering thought that ever crossed my mind. A mere second passed, a gasp of a short breath, before I caught a whiff of something…
something memorable that tugged at me, immediately making my heart thud like crazy.
A familiar scent.
The moment it infiltrated my nostrils, running down my throat and into my lungs, it headed straight into my heart, digging itself in there.
The wafting fragrance was a mixture of fresh air, the intoxicating smell of orange blooms during summer time, fresh cut grass, and a faint, lingering smell of lavender. It was
scent that had haunted me for the last three months. The very smell that, even after all the time that had past, still made me tremble deep within.
Just like that, I was transported back to one of my beloved and most cherished places—my family’s orchard in Pavia.
had been in my family since the 13
century. Through the years, it had been gradually upgraded to include amenities from the modern world. Despite the upgrades, the overall feel of a classical Roman-inspired country estate had remained with awe-inspiring, floor mosaics; heated, indoor bathing pools; and a Roman-inspired pool that was surrounded by pillared statues of the Roman gods Apollo, Jupiter, Juno, Venus, and the entire lot, which faced Southeast, where the sun rose.
One of my cherished memories happened in the open courtyard that sat in the heart of the villa, where two shallow, ankle-deep pools were situated side by side, next to the striking Venus fountain. It was where I had spent most of my coins, throwing them in, wishing away for whatever my heart desired. It was, without a doubt, a beautiful, stunning villa with rich splendor. It wasn’t its grandeur that made it remarkably special for me, though. No, it was a woman, an American expat named Kimberly Harris.