THE BRIDE CHAPTER 8

THE BRIDE 
Chapter 8

A grandmother is a babysitter who
watches the kids instead of the
television.
-Author Unknown
Alfonso Orsini’s POV
“Stop spying on them, mia moglie.”
I reprimanded my wife of almost
fifty years as she stood near the
window of our library watching
our Marco and his lady friend
walked towards the vineyard
outside.
“I can’t help it.” My stubborn wife
replied as her watchful eyes
remained on the young people
outside. “Look at them. They are
perfect for each other. I can see it.”
So do I, I thought silently. I sighed
and remove my gaze in the
newspaper I’ve been reading and
stared at my lovely wife. “But you
heard your grandson, Claudia mia.
Francesca is just working for him.”
My wife snickered as she folded her
arms in the middle of her chest. “I
don’t buy it.” She said obstinately.
“When was the last time Marco
brought one of his female
employees here and introduced to
us?”
When I didn’t answer my wife
raised an eyebrow to my direction.
“See, Alfonso? Never. This is the
first time he introduced a woman
to us since he reached his teens.”
“Still, it is clear that he’s not
marrying that lovely lady.” I
reasoned out as I resume my
reading.
“How sad.” She said regretfully as
she looked back to Marco and
Francesca outside. “I thought when
he introduced Francesca he will say
that she is his fiancée. I nearly
weep with tears of joy. I thought
he finally succumbed to your
ultimatum and get married.”
I unconsciously lowered the
newspaper I have been reading
and stared at my wife blankly. “W-
what did you say?”
She eyed him as if I am a mentally
handicap man. “Really, Alfonso.
What makes you think of me?” She
smiled slyly in my direction her
amber eyes sparked with
deviousness. “You really don’t think
you can hide it from me, isn’t? I
knew you gave Marco an ultimatum
using me as an excuse to give you
the great-grandchildren you always
wanted.”
I clamped my jaw to prevent it from
hanging open. Dio, in the fifty years
that we’d been married she’s still as
sharp as the razor blade since the
first time I met her. She’s the only
woman who managed to put me in
my toes.
I swallowed hard. “You think
Francesca was the right woman for
your grandson?”
“Yes.”
“Too bad.” I smiled as I stood
beside her and watch the young
people outside walking enjoying
their scenery. “They have a thing or
two to say on that matter, my
dear.”
I have to admit I can see the sparks
between them. The attraction that
they kept fighting, I know that
Marco will never seduce a woman
who worked for him. Does
Francesca Marcolini work in Orsini
Industries? What is her position? I
need to investigate—oh wait…
I remember now. Francesca
Marcolini is an etiquette teacher.
How does—oh, you slyly boy, I eyed
Marco with silent laughter. You
hired that instructor to look for
your bride, don’t you? I wonder
how your Nonna will react in this
information.
“…are you listening to me,
Alfonso?” The slightly irritated voice
of my wife dragged me out of my
reverie.
“Of course, my darling.” I replied
smoothly with a genuine smile as I
gazed on her lovely face.
“No. You are not.” She chided. “As I
said, I will make sure Marco will be
married to Francesca before the
end of this year.”
“You will?” I couldn’t help but to
raised my eyebrows while I glanced
at my determined wife to Marco
and Francesca outside my window.
“How? They clearly stated awhile
ago that their relationship was
purely business.” For now, I silently added.
“That’s a lie.” My wife announced
proudly. “Everyone with eyes can
notice the attraction between them.
Francesca is the perfect wife for
our Marco.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes.” She answered quickly,
settling her gazed back at the two
people outside like a great
matchmaker she thought she was.
For all I know she’s already
planning the wedding reception
inside her head right now. “Marco
had been refusing every young
ladies I’ve been introducing him for
years to be his wife. I might as well
push him to the woman he like.”
“What if Francesca doesn’t like our
grandson?”
My wife responded with a knowing
smile. “You will be surprised what a
capable grandmother can do if it
means acquiring her adored
grandson a good wife, darling.”
I looked at the clueless boy who
was busy touring his visitor in our
vineyard with a hidden smile. You
are in for a big surprise, my boy. I
thought silently. Your Nonna had
already set her eyes on your
intended bride and before you
know it you are already married to
the pretty Francesca Marcolini.
“I love to see your plan works, mi
amore.” I stated, placing my hand
on her shoulder watching the
future bride and groom talked
outside.
“You have my word on it…” My wife
announced arrogantly, her eyes
gleamed in the sunlight surveying
the couple. “…sweet Jesus, they are
kissing!”
“I don’t think we should be
watching this.” I told my wife even
though I shifted my position to get
a better view.
Francesca Marcolini’s POV
The last thing I expect when I woke
up this morning is to have an
impromptu visit to Marco Orsini’s
grandparents. Even though they
were lovely couple I don’t think I
like the gleamed in their eyes when
they realized that their grandson
brought home a woman to meet
them.
I think they got the wrong
impression about my association
with their grandson. I sighed I
shouldn’t let this happened. If I just
had any clue where Marco Orsini
would take me I should have
refused him.
So why did you come with him? A
voiced inside my head had asked.
Honestly, until now I don’t know
the answer. All I know was that
before my brain could think my feet
already move to slid to his Ferrari.
Now here I am enjoying the
picture-perfect postcard scenery
before me.
I am aware of the presence of a
man with commanding sensuality
beside me walking silently by my
side. Since we left his grandparents
of the magnificent library he never
spoke to me again.
My heart is pounding loudly in my
chest while butterflies seemed to
take residence in my stomach. What
was happening to me? Why I am
acting like this when I am alone
with my adversary, Marco Orsini…
“If you are waiting for an apology
you won’t hear it from me.” He
announced with a hint of
arrogance in his sexy deep voice. “I
know I should apologized to the
investigation I have with your
husband but I don’t regret
anything. It’s time for you to start a
new life.”
Funny. I wasn’t waiting for him to
apologize. Yes, what he did was
cold-hearted move but I appreciate
that he showed me the reports and
learned that I should not have mourned for a
man for the past seven years of my
life who doesn’t deserved my loved.
The betrayal of Lorenzo wasn’t
hurtful as the first time I learned
about it. There is still pain in my
heart but only fleeting. I guess my
loved for him slowly fading away
like forgotten memories. I want to
start a new life where his cruel
betrayal would be a distant past for
my part. I want to pick-up my life
where I left off the year he died.
“Francesca….?” Marco inquired
softly. Really, Francesca. Marco? I
asked furiously. Since when did you
start to call him on his given name?
“I’m fine.” I answered, for the first
time I let myself to look at his
sinfully handsome face. “I wasn’t
really expecting you to give one.”
He expelled a heavy breath. “I only
did that so you can stop your
daydream about your perfect
marriage with him.”
“Why do you care?” I asked
curiously. I don’t understand his
reason in showing me the reports
other than to intentionally hurt me.
“Because I want you to have a life.”
He answered tersely. “You are still
young. Don’t waste your time loving
a man who is dead for six years.”
“Seven, actually.” I stopped from
walking and stared at him. “I think
that’s none of your business,
Signore.”
“Marco.” He stated a little irritably.
“It’s Marco, Francesca. Say it.”
“Marco…” I swallowed hard and
took step backwards when I saw
him started to advance in my
direction. “What are you doing?” I
asked as I tried to look scandalized.
“Your grandparents were probably
looking at us right now.”
“Did you spend the night crying for
that b-----d’s unfaithfulness?” He
asked in dangerously low voice.
“No…” I answered breathlessly as I
leaned in the grape vines for
support. I could feel the thundering
of my heart. I could swear he can
hear it.
“No?” He repeated, caressing my
face tenderly. “Then, why was your
eyes swollen from last night’s
tears?”
“I’m not…”
“You are so beautiful to waste your
time crying over him.” He said while
his dark eyes heated like mercury.
“What are you doing…?” I asked
when he started to deep his head
towards me.
“I’m going to kiss you.” He said
shortly before he claimed my lips. I
gasped when my mouth touched
his for the second time and I
cursed myself when I let him take
liberties as I should have slapped
and push him away. I closed my
eyes and feel the sensation that his
kiss gives me. I slowly sneaked my
arms around his neck and he drew
me closer to deepen the kiss.
After a while we drew back to
catch our breaths. “We shouldn’t be
doing this.” I told him while
catching for air.
“I know…”
I stared at his gleaming dark eyes.
“This is our second kiss.”
“Our third.” He said. “And this is
our fourth.” Before he deep his
head again for another kiss I
automatically closed my eyes and let A bachelor’s life is a fine breakfast,
a flat lunch, and a miserable dinner.
-Francis Bacon
Marco Orsini’s POV
“…so what do you think of that
brunette over there.” She discreetly
nodded the direction of the young
woman talking animatedly to a
group. “She came from a good
family. I think she will be good
enough to your grandfather’s
expectations.”
I have gone long enough stop
listening to the woman beside me
who babbled non-stop to the every
single eligible woman who might
be suitable for my quest. She
invited me to a luncheon hosted by
a wealthy Italian prince.
Honestly, I am not interested with
those women but I kept that
information to myself. Ever since
the day I kissed her in my
grandparents vineyard Francesca
Marcolini maintained our distance.
It’s frustrating, all I want to do was
kissed those sinfully delicious lips
but managed to slip away as fast as
she can.
“Marco?” Francesca inquired a little
irritably. “Are you listening to me,
Marco?”
“Of course, my dear.” I lied
smoothly, giving her a reassuring
smile.
“No. You are not.”
“How cold.” I replied, moving closer
to her. As usual, she backs away
lighting fast and avoided my gazed.
“Why not loosen up, cara?”
“I can’t.” She whispered softly while
looking at down at the perfectly
trim lawn. “The reason why we are
here is to find your prospective
bride.”
“I know.” I feel like a predator
advancing in her direction. I kept
reminding myself that to take it
easy because this is the first time in
months that I kissed her that I can
monopolized her again. “But take it
easy, mia bella. My grandfather’s
birthday is still far away.”
“But…”
“Signora Marcolini.” A voiced broke
our conversation. It took every
ounce of my patience not to
throttle the b-----d as it turned out
he’s the host of this party.
“Principe Agostini.” Francesca
curtsied regally. “Thank you for
inviting us to your party.”
The prince took Francesca’s hand
and kissed it. I nearly leap at the old
fat prince when his lips linger a
little longer to Francesca’s delicate
hand for my liking. “Are you
enjoying the party, my lady?”
“Of course,” She answered
conversationally. “It’s fantastic as
well as your home, sir.”
The prince had laughed loudly as if
Francesca’s answer was so witty.
“How clever, Signora. I believed I
don’t believe you introduce me to
your date.”
“Pardon me for my rudeness, sir.
May I present Marco Orsini.” She
performed the introduction,
slipping her hand to my arms.
“Marco, this is the respected Prince
Vittorio Agostini.” I hide my smile.
The formidable woman seemed to
be also leaning for support to me
when meeting intimidating person
like this one—not that I am
intimidated with him.
I am the great Marco Orsini who
never bowed to anyone.
“I heard a lot about you, Signore
Orsini.” The prince offered his hand
with a wide ginned smile on his old
face.
“Likewise.” I answered. I heard a
lot about his womanizing and vices.
Like the woman on his arms right
now. She’s probably half the age of
this old prince. The woman wore a
show stopping dress and draped
with diamonds it was enough to
blind me when it caught with the
sunlight.

To be continued