THE BRIDE CHAPTER 11

THE BRIDGE
Chapter 11

Plan the sale when you plan the
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-Leo Burnett
Marco Orsini’s POV
“Don’t you have better things to do
than to slouch here in my office this
morning?”
The dry comment that dragged me
out of my reverie came from my
best friend, the duke, Don Lucca
Cavelli.
I scowled at him. “Can’t I visit a
good friend of mine in my free
time?”
“Visit?” The duke repeated
mockingly, without even lifting his
eyes from the paper works he’s
been so busy reading. “I’m sure
you have million better things to do
than visit me, Marco.”
“Ouch.” I said theatrically, placing
both of my hands in my chest. “You
wounded me.”
“Really, mon amico.” Lucca
managed to drag his eyes from the
boring papers he’d been reading.
“What’s the catch? Why are you
here? You are not the type of
person who will slouch here in my
office for nothing.”
“I’m just bored, Your Royal
Highness.” I answered a little
defensively. In truth, it’s been a
whole week since the luncheon
Francesca and I attended and since
then the icy widow manage to
dodge me.
The real reason I visited Lucca was
to discreetly inquire about that
maddening woman’s whereabouts
without the duke suspects
anything about my association with
cold woman. Dio, if I didn’t know
better I would think that she
reduces me with one of her
lapdogs.
“Bored?” I heard the duke repeated
sarcastically. “If you’re bored to
tears why don’t you call your
mistress and do something that
you will both enjoy.”
I frowned and stretch my legs
forward. “I don’t have a mistress at
the moment.”
“You don’t have what?” Lucca
gaped at me. Astonishment was
visible on his aristocratic face. “Care
to repeat that, amico? I think I
didn’t hear you right.”
I shifted my position in the leather
chair as I tried to remain unruffled
from my unexpected slip of tongue.
I took a deep breath. “I said I am
not currently attached to anyone.”
“When?”
“When what?”
“When was the last time you have a
mistress?” Lucca asked without
heartbeat looking at me straight
from the eyes.
“Does it matter?”
“When?” The duke repeated his
question again. From the look on
his face it seems that he will not
leave this topic unless I answered
him. I cursed myself silently. “When
was the last time you have a
mistress, Marco?”
I swore loudly. “About the time we
rescue your wife from that psycho
ex-fiancé of hers in Las Vegas.”
Lucca Cavelli’s eyes widened. “That
long?”
“It’s not that long.” I answered
defensively, looking away from his
scrutinizing gazed. “I’ve been just
busy that’s all—hey, what with that
look?”
“Nothing,” The duke said casually,
returning his eyes on the papers on
his hands. “Now I understand.”
“Understand what?” I gave him
thunderous glare.
The duke sighed without lifting his
eyes on the blasted papers. “What
you are experiencing now was just
pure sexual frustration. I didn’t
realize that I will witness this day
that you will have a lack of supply
with women, amico.”
*
My eyebrows shot upward as I
shifted in my position. “Excuse me,
Your Excellency. Let me clear this to
you. I don’t have a lack of supply
with women. I just took a break
from them.”
“Yeah,” Lucca agreed cheerfully,
grinning ear to ear which made me
want to strangle him with my bare
hands. “You took a break from
them half a year. I didn’t know that
you could be celibate that long.”
“Think what you like, Lucca.” I
growled at him darkly.
“You know what,” The duke
ignored my dark mood and opened
his drawer and pulled what look
like a ticket. “I have a solution to
your problem. It’s tonight.”
“What is this?” I looked at the
offered ticket in my hand.
“Why wife created a foundation for
her late father for the benefits of
the orphaned in Moscow tonight
there will be a ball. A charity
auction.”
I shook my head. “I’m not
interested.” I placed back the ticket
on the duke’s glass table. I have
enough of this charity thing. The
last time I attended one I donated
half a million Euros to have that
cold-hearted woman agreed to
help me with my quest.
Lucca glared at me insolently. “What
kind of friend you are? You won’t
even help my wife to her charity
event? I think you will like it. It’s a
bachelorette auction.”
“Not interested.”
The duke sighed deeply. “Your
donation will be valuable, Marco.
Plus my wife would be extremely
happy if you help. Hell, even
Francesca agree to help.”
Now that he mentioned that name I
suddenly became interested. “Oh?
How does she help? Does the ice
queen personally selected the
bachelorette that to be auction?”
This must be the reason why she
hasn’t contacted me this week even
once. A single phone call to inquire
if I am still breathing the reason
was she’s busy with this event.
D--n, why do I feel I am acting like
a love sick fool?
“Actually no,” I heard the duke
replied, rubbing his jaw as if
forcing himself not to smile. “Quite
the opposite, in fact. She’s one of
the bachelorette.”
“What!” I abruptly stood, as if some
had just lit a firecracker in my chair.
“What did you just say?”
“There’s no need to shout, Marco.”
Lucca said casually unruffled by my
outburst. “I’m stunned if they don’t
hear to all the way down to the
lobby.”
“Did you just—”
“Yes,” Lucca smiled maddeningly as
he played with his fountain pen
enjoying my reaction. “Kind-
hearted friend, isn’t she? She
agreed to help my wife for this
event.”
“Does your wife plan all of this?”
Every cell in my body was out for
blood.
The duke shook his head. “It was a
last minute decision when one of
the bachelorette back out for her
modeling assignment this week.
Francesca stepped in.”
She volunteered herself to be
auction? The thought was bloody
frustrating.
“You know what, Lucca?” I heard
myself said with a barely controlled
rage. “I think I changed my mind. I
will help the duchess with her
charity works.” I am shocked to see
that my hands were quite steady
when I tucked the ticket in the
b----t pocket of my coat. “I’ll see
you tonight.”
I will kill anyone who will bid even a
single centavo to Francesca
Marcolini with my bare hands. Even
if I need to manslaughter everyone
inside the ballroom tonight. So be
it.
*
Francesca Marcolini’s POV
How far will you go to help your
friend?
The question that started all kept
playing inside my head repeatedly
as I stood at the backstage of the
grand ball room of the Rostov Hotel.
My heart is thundering inside my
ribcage while my legs were like
jelly.
The charity auction was
progressing smoothly yet my
nerves were shaking. Even thought
I am at my full glory I couldn’t help
but to feel insure with the other
bachelorettes to be auctioned.
From supermodels to socialites they
all look like goddesses that came
from the ancient Rome. Next to
them I feel like old and unattractive.
What madness had possessed
Tatiana to think that I can contend
with these beauties?
“Francesca!” I smiled at the very
pregnant Tatiana Cavelli
approaching me.
“This is the worst thing you could
ever done to me, Your Excellency.” I
told her as I accepted her hug.
“You’ll keep.” The duchess beamed.
“By the way, you look gorgeous. I
am sure you will be one of the
highest paid for the auction.”
“You do know how to make me
feel well.”
“Trust me, Francesca.” Tatiana said
proudly. You are one of the most
beautiful women I ever see. Men
will drool to you when they see you
later.”
I gave a shaky laughed. “You’ve got
some imaginations, dear.”
“Pardon, Your Excellency.” One of
the staff had said. “But we need
your opinion, ma’am.”
“Excuse me, Francesca. But I need
to do my duty, all right?”
I laughed. “Don’t mind me, dear.”
I watch the very confident Duchess
of Caprielle walked with the staff
who probably reports about the
progressing ball. She is now really
capable of her surroundings very
different from the wallflower
heiress I met over a year ago.
“We’re about to start.” The one of
the organizer had said. My nerves
spike up again. I took deep breath.
I can do this, I told myself.
The first in one to be auction was
the redhead bombshell that turned
every heads in her direction as she
walked.
As one by one the ladies went up to
the stage and auctioned by single
men for a one night date. And then
my time has arrived after that
woman on the stage I will be facing
my fate. As I stood waiting for my
number to be called by the host I
realized one thing.
It is one thing to let yourself be
auction but it was entire different
thing to be the lowest price to be
sold. It was mortifying.
“Excuse me,” I asked the passing
staff. “What is the highest bid for a
sold bachelorette?”
“Two hundred thousand Euros.”
Oh, God, I thought dreadfully. “The
lowest?”
“Two thousand.”
If I could only get 2,100 Euros I will
be fine.
“….please welcome candidate
number 16. Francesca Marcolini.”
The host had said over the
microphone.
My legs nearly give me away. I was
shaking badly as I walked to the
center of the stage. I couldn’t hear
the background about me the host
had been promoting to the guest
inside the ball room.
“Two thousand!” Someone had
shouted.
Wow, not bad.
“Three thousand!” Someone
shouted on the other side.
“Four!”
“Ten!”
“Ten thousand.” The host repeated,
asking for any bid other than that
amount.
“Fifteen!” the guy in the front said.
I’d settle for that amount.
“Fifteen thousand, gents.” The host
had said. “Any more bid?”
“One million Euros!”
The entire ball room adopted
complete silence as the spotlight
search for the person who just
spoke that astonishing amount. I
could feel my heart is galloping in
my chest as I recognized the
familiar voice.
Please don’t let him be that guy, I
prayed earnestly.
“One million Euros, for that
woman.” He spoke again, finally the
spotlight found him leaning
casually in the far end wall of the
ball room. His stance was relaxed
but I could see the tension in his
body as well the defiance in his
magnificent eyes.
“One million.” The host had
swallowed and finally recovered
from his shock. “Any bid other than
that?”
The room was still stunned at the
bid of this crazy man.
“Going one, going twice? Sold.
Candidate number sixteen was sold
for one million Euros.”
The crowd gasped and murmured
to themselves at the turn of the
events. While I took no notice of
them my sole gaze was fixed at the
man who might consider as the
devil himself and right now he
looks like one ready to claim his
purchased. He started to advance at
the stage. My instinct told me to run
but I couldn’t move my legs.
“Mine,” Marco Orsini said once he
reached the stage, his eyes held
hellfire in their depth. “You are now
mine, Francesca.”
Without any notice he swung me
on his shoulder like a sack of
potatoes and gave the audience
something they will talk about for
decade.
Oh, God. Someone had just
awakened the slumbering beast.
But who was it?
My last vision of the upside down
ball room before Marco Orsini
march down the stage was the
triumph on Tatiana’s eyes for the
enormous amount.

TO BE CONTINUED..