Giorgio (Members From Money Season 2, #136)

Chapter 16

The months leading up to the wedding were a blur of activities. She was not allowed to do anything regarding the planning, because he and his dad were taking care of everything. They had their first major argument when she insisted on at least paying for her own dress.

“I have more than enough money to take care of everything.”

“That’s not the point.” She had argued back. “You gave me two million dollars and there is still most of that money sitting in the bank. The store is doing very well, and I want to at least have some sort of independence.”

“There is no need for that.” His arrogance was not surprising. Her fiancé was used to getting his own way, no questions asked.

She had tried arguing, but it was not working. Next, she tried reasoning with him.

Placing a hand on his chest, she softened her expression, her lips curved slightly. “I love that you want to take care of all the details, but I am asking you to let me take care of this one thing. Just this one and you and your dad can do everything else.”

He had stared into her dark brown eyes and felt as if he was drowning. It was uncanny that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

She tied him up into knots. Whenever she was near, he could scarcely breathe and staying away from her was a chore. He made love to her every night and even though he told himself that once a night was enough because of her condition, he was never able to keep that promise.

She had a hold over him that was confounding.

“Alright.” He had turned away from her abruptly and made his way to the front of the store. He stayed away for most of the day, as if he was avoiding her. She thought he was upset because she had insisted on paying for her own dress, but later that night, he confessed the real reason.

“It’s the same for me.” She told him softly, her hurt and confusion disappearing at his explanation.

“It’s new for me.” He sighed against her mouth. Holding her in his arms, her naked body flushed against his, would elicit any secrets he had inside his heart.

“I have never felt this way before, and it frightens me sometimes. I keep thinking that you will wake up one morning and realize you have made a mistake.”

“Have you been paying attention? I am not going anywhere, because I cannot live without you. It is that simple.”

That night, their lovemaking had taken on another dimension.

She had handed over the running of the store to Marjorie and she and her brother had boarded the plane for Italy. Giorgio had gone ahead of them to handle some details. Besides, the news of their upcoming nuptials was making the rounds on the various social media platforms.

Saying goodbye to her home had choked her up, but she was happy her brother was traveling with her and would be staying for two weeks.

Dr. Charlene Simmonds was also coming and staying for the duration of her pregnancy. Giorgio had offered her enough incentive for her to say yes, and she and Julian had gotten closer. The two were now exclusive.

Juliana was moving thousands of miles away to be with the man she loved and the father of her baby, so she was happy he had found someone who was genuinely into him.

It made things so much easier for her to leave.

*****

Spring in Rome was so vastly different from spring anywhere else, and the day was perfect for the wedding. Returning had brought back the memories and sent nostalgia coursing through her. This was where she had met and fallen in love with the man who had changed the course of her life forever.

They had been met at the airport by Giogio and even though she had seen him a few days ago, the brief separation had proven how integral he had become in her life and how she could never envision life without him in it.

She had flown into his arms with unabashed pleasure, and he had wrapped his arms around her, swinging her into the air as he kissed her soundly.

Julian had grumbled at them to get a room, but he had been ignored. Their photos had turned up in the society rags the very next day with the title:

‘Former playboy Giorgio Russo, seen here completely in love with his fiancée.’

They had been greeted by the staff who were lined in the lofty hallway, welcoming back ‘Signorina’ home. In spite of himself, Julian had been blown away by the sheer luxury of the place and the sumptuous décor of his suite.

Despite Giorgio’s protest, she had slept in the same guest suite she occupied when she was here before, overriding his argument that the traditional was ridiculous.

“I need all the help I can get.” She told him.

“What does that mean?” He had demanded.

“I am marrying a man more beautiful than I am, with more money than anyone I know and a former ladies’ man. I don’t need to flout tradition in that respect. So, I am sticking to it. We have been spending the entire time together and one night apart will not kill us.”

“It might kill me.” He had taken her hand and guided it to his full and heavy sex. “Think about that.”

“You don’t play fair.”

“Precisely.” He retorted. But he had capitulated when she added that she wanted to get the full bridal treatment and that cannot happen if he was in the bed with her.

“You are referring to the fact that I cannot keep my hands off you and might keep you up all night.”

“Yes.”

Now staring at herself in the full-length mirror, she felt tears burning the back of her eyes.

“You are exquisite.” The hushed tone inside the doorway had her lifting her eyes and he noticed the tears.

Without asking why, he knew exactly what was going through her mind. Bridging the distance, he placed his hands on her shoulders, his expression solemn.

“I might not be a substitute for our dad, but I am here to assure you that he would have been very proud of you.”

“I miss him so much, both of them.”

“I know honey.” Putting her at arm’s length, he studied the beautiful picture she made. Being in love and having it returned had done wonders for her skin. She was glowing.

Or perhaps it was the pregnancy, whatever it was, it made her skin luminous and dewy. A stylist had been called in and her hair was a mass of glossy curls around her scalp. Tear drop diamonds were at her lobes and a stunning diamond necklace was around her neck.

The dress, a stunning Victorian style silk and lace had been designed in a way that covered her advanced pregnancy. The rich lace was a sharp contrast to her ebony skin and highlighted her perky breasts.

The high waist had a slender gold and diamond trim around it, with the voluminous skirt drifting around her in swirls to her ankles. Her makeup was skillfully applied to enhance her flawless complexion. The nude mascara gave her eyes a warm glow and her full pouty lips were coated in a soft shade of russet.

“I hardly recognize you,” Julian felt his throat going dry as he continued to stare at her.

Reaching into his pocket, he drew out a velvet box and opened it. “Something borrowed and blue.” He handed her his teal blue handkerchief, and she tucked it next to her left breast. “Ready?”

“Yes.” She clung to him for a few seconds before letting go. “I am.”

*****

The lavish gardens of the Palazzo were alive with so many colors, it reminded the coveted guests of the colors of the rainbow, bursting in the sky after a shower of rain. It had rained the day before, giving the blossoms a dewy look, the delicate petals, dripping with left over moisture from the showers.

Chairs dotted the lush green manicured lawns, and striped umbrellas were placed over chairs, giving the entire setting an informal atmosphere. It was what the bride had requested, and the high-priced Italian wedding planners had been horrified at first but had grudgingly admitted that the ‘young American’ had the right idea.

Helicopters hovered at a discreet distance, having been warned by the PR department of the firm to keep their distance. But this was big news. Former playboy Giorgio was finally tying the knot and to an ordinary American who was not really a stunning beauty, not like the man was accustomed to.

Not only that, but the facts about their original meeting had somehow been leaked to the press, which made it more of an intriguing love story. Former lovers of the playboy were mystified and more than a little resentful that this – this American woman had scooped in and in a matter of weeks had taken Giorgio away from them.

‘And there was not anything special about her, too.’ They whispered behind their hands. What was even more baffling was her open friendliness. Whenever she was out with Giorgio, she would smile and extend a friendly hand in greeting. They wondered if she knew he had slept with half of the female population.

But there was no doubt that Giogio was hooked. He was attentive and adoring towards her, unlike his normal behavior. They were used to him being courteous and flirtatious, but never like this. He was not far from her.

They would separate for a little bit and then he would find her. He was always touching her, his gaze lingering. He would splay his fingers over her swollen abdomen in a possessive gesture as if telling the world that both woman and baby belonged to him.

They were photographed every time they stepped out of the Palazzo and even Alfredo seemed to approve of her. The future father-in-law could be seen bending a fatherly gaze on her each time.

Now standing on the lush green lawn and looking heartbreakingly handsome in a dashing midnight blue sports jacket over tailored tan trousers and a pearl pink inside shirt. His glossy black hair was immaculately cut and styled and his beard precise.

He had never looked more handsome and more unavailable. In a few short minutes, he would be even more so.

The famous soprano, hired for the occasion started singing, indicating that the bride was on her way. The guests rose to their feet in perfectly orchestrated accord and turned towards the arch that had been placed at the edge of the garden, bedecked with flowers, and climbing vines.

And she was stunning and simply radiant.

Even her harshest critique who had secretly dismissed her American good looks as being just that, could not fault the facts. And it was that Juliana Antoinette Campbell was an incredibly beautiful bride and an ecstatically happy one as well.

Nor could they ignore the look of adoration on the groom’s handsome face. Or the fact that he impatiently went to retrieve his bride from her brother.

The ceremony was short and sweet, with the vows ringing with an authenticity that left the guests with no doubt about the love between the two people. Most notably was the groom’s proprietary hand over the bride’s swollen abdomen or the passionate kiss that sealed their status as husband and wife.

The reception was brimming with laughter, the food, liquor, especially the wine shipped over from the privately owned vineyard, seemed never ending. Celebrities included the upper echelon of society, several royalties and a mixture of ‘common’ people made for an odd combination.

The groom’s speech was simple and heartfelt.

“Before I met my bride,” he smiled at the woman seated at his right and took her hand in his. “My lifestyle was a never-ending series of parties and frivolities. I convinced myself that I was happy, that this was the life, and I wanted nothing more.

When I came flying around that corner, I never dreamed in a million years that I was flying to meet my destiny. That knocking her off that bike would be a new beginning for me.” His hand tightened on hers and he had to clear his throat to dislodge the lump. Tearing his eyes off her radiant face, he gave his attention to his enraptured audience.

“I never dreamed that this woman, this wonderful human being would be the catalyst in my life.” He drew her up and turned her to face him. “I cannot adequately express how much I adore you, Amore Mio. Luce dei miei occhi.” He ended huskily before pulling her into his arms for a long and embarrassingly passionate kiss.

*****

It took some adjustment. Their honeymoon started in Switzerland where the Russo’s owned a fabulous chalet and from there, they went to Spain and then France. In two weeks, they were back in Rome, with her husband mindful of her advanced pregnancy.

As the delivery day drew near, decorating the nursery became a priority. Her brother was gone, leaving a few days after they came back and missing him was surprisingly acute, something her very observant husband noticed immediately.

“Would you like us to go and visit?” He asked her quietly, one night they were inside their suite after an exhausting dinner party which had left her feeling bone weary.

It was spring moving into summer, and it was the height of the season for entertainment, not that the Italians needed an excuse. Giorgio was more than just the face of the high-end stores; he was actively involved in the company and had started going in on a regular basis.

“No.” She shook her head. She spent most of her day, consulting with the household staff on things like menu planning, floral arrangements and sitting in the library to work on her Italian.

She wasn’t interested in starting up the bookstore yet, until after the baby was born and had told him so. She was also remotely managing her bookstore in the states.

He turned her to face him. He insisted on both of them sleeping nude, something she was unaccustomed to. But her husband liked to feel her naked body against his. The lovemaking was passionate and frequent, leaving her weeping in his arms.

Of course, she attributed it to hormones. She was depressed one minute and laughing the next. It was frustrating.

“We could take the jet…”

“I said no!”

He went still at her sharp tone, eyes wandering over her face.

“I am sorry.” She whispered miserably. “I keep thinking and wondering if I am going to make a good mother. I miss mine so much and wished she was here to give me some pointers. I pore over books every day, so that I can be up to date on what to expect…”

“You are going to make an excellent mother.” He tilted her chin up and searched her face closely. “You are the most caring and loving person I have ever met. You epitomize sweetness and purity, and I am proud to call you my wife and mother of my baby.” He kissed her lips softly. “And I think it is time you speak to someone.”

“Like a shrink?”

He smiled at that. “No, Amore Mio. Like a friend.”

She had no idea that he meant Princess Tiana Ricci, until he placed the call and handed her the phone. At first, she was stunned and tongue-tied and had no idea what to say. She and her handsome husband had been in attendance at the wedding among other royalties, but Juliana had been terse, because she was uncomfortable.

But after a few minutes of awkwardness, the two women finally discovered mutual grounds. Over the next few days, they started chatting like old friends.

“Better?” Her husband asked after a week had passed and the two women were talking to each other every day.

“Thank you.” She told him tearfully. She was still trying to grasp what it was to be married to a man like him, but he was patient with her and never showed any hint that he was regretting that he was married to her.

“Anything for you.” He gathered her into his arms and kissed her unadorned mouth.

“There is something I need to talk to you about.”

“If it’s to tell me you have found another woman, one of those svelte Italian beauties whose ankles are elegant instead of swollen, I am going to have to kill you.”

He shot her a pained look before pulling her down to sit on his lap.

“Maternita…,”- He began referring to their latest magazine that was his brainstorm and was taking the publishing world by waves, featured photos of simple everyday women in various stages of pregnancy and leading up to motherhood.

It had sprung from a discussion between them one night as they listened to an audio of soothing baby sounds. “They want to feature you on the June cover.”

“I have already been featured in several pages.” She reminded him.

“Yes, this is different. They want to do a full story on ‘the American woman adjusting to a new country.” His thumb caressed her cheek. “I told them I would discuss it with you.”

“What do you think?”

He gave his elegant shrug. “I think it’s a good idea. They also want a story written by you as a sort of guide to women who have migrated to this country and finding it difficult to cope.”

“They want me to write the story? Not just do an interview?”

“Not just do an interview, yes. It is entirely up to you, piccolo.”

His endearments made her hot inside and came naturally to him.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea.” She enthused.

“Excellent.” He drew her into his arms, his hands splayed over her distended stomach. The feel of his son moving against his hand always had an emotional effect on him and it was no different now.

They had decided on the name: Matteo – the middle names – Jack Alfredo after both their dad’s, much to the delight of both Julian and Alfredo. “I adore you.” He told her hoarsely. “In case I neglected to tell you this morning.”

“You didn’t.” She leaned into him, inhaling his subtly expensive cologne. “You never do.”

“And I never will.” He cradled her against his chest and felt the thickness in his throat. Living with her as her husband was something he could never get tired of. It had felt strange that he had someone in his personal space at first, but he loved the scent of her perfume, the sight of her clothes hanging inside his closet.

She was conscientious about putting away her things and no matter how he teased her and remind her that they had a full household of staff to cater to them, she still did it out of habit.

The staff loved her, and she did not try and interrupt the running of the household. They consulted her about every little thing, and she knew their names.

His father did not think of her as his daughter-in-law, but rather as a daughter and they would have dinner around the informal dining table, with laughter wafting through the room. She had brought joy and light to the household and made such a difference in the short time she was here that it astounded them.

But most of all, she had changed his life for the better. He no longer had the urge to seek for pleasure in endless rounds of parties or in the arms of various women. His joy was found in one woman, and he was satisfied.

She appealed to him on so many levels, he could scarcely comprehend it. Now he realized what his father had been trying to communicate to him over the years. He would rather spend a year with his wife than fifty years with someone else. She completed him. Later that night, he showed her how much.

*****

Their son was born on a brilliantly sunny day in June, without much fuss and a surprisingly short labor. Her brother had flown in for the birth and was staying a few weeks. He had been a constant visitor to the country. His romance with Charlene had blossomed and they were talking about marriage.

Juliana and her son were discharged after a few days and hovered around by the proud dad, grandfather, and uncle.

“You must be exhausted.” Her husband murmured as he came into the light airy nursery. Stepping behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist as he stared at his son.

The baby was sleeping, fingers closed in tight fists and resting on either side of his ink black head of hair. He showed early signs of favoring his handsome papa and was a stunningly adorable baby. Juliana could scarcely believe he was hers.

“Not really.” She leaned into him and closed her eyes briefly. “I am a mother and a wife.”

Her husband turned her to face him, cradling her face between his palms. “And I am a husband and a father. You made that happen. And there is nothing – barring none, that I wouldn’t do for you.” Scooping her into his arms, he carried her to their bedroom and held her against him, until they both drifted off.

The end…