THE BRIDE CHAPTER 22

THE BRIDE
Chapter 22

The perfect date is the one where
anything and everything goes
wrong, but at the end of it, all you
want is to see them again.
-Dylan O’Brien
Francesca Marcolini’s POV
I glanced at my wristwatch. Two
minutes before 8 a.m. and ten
outfits I’ve fitted to find the perfect
one, finally I am ready with my date
with Marco Orsini.
I marched down to the elevator to
wait for him outside my penthouse
building. Oh God, if I didn’t know
better I would assume that I am
nervous with this date. I could do
this, I reassured myself. It’s just a
date.
But as I went out of the lobby and
saw the familiar figure waiting
outside I knew what lie it had been.
“I’m ready.” I said a little
breathlessly.
Marco turned around to look at me.
My breath had been knocked out
from my lungs by his appearance.
Yesterday he gave the impression
of being campaign ad model. Today
he wore white t-shirt, dark jeans
with matching black leather jacket
he looked like a devil biker than a
billionaire businessman. He’s such a
daredevil.
His gazed boldly travelled through
my body. I want to scream at his
scorching stare. “Get change.”
“I beg your pardon?” I asked
indecorously, looking down at my
prim dress. As far as I am concern
there is nothing wrong with my
choice of dress now.
“Get change.” He repeated his
earlier command, tucking his arms
in the middle of his chest. “It’s not
appropriate with what we will
ride.”
“Huh?” I said with a frown. “I don’t
understand.”
He gestured at the sleek motorbike
parked nearby. “That’s our ride.” He
said. “Go and get change into some
jeans if you have.”
I grimaced. Now I need to change
again after spending a lot of time
picking up this dress. “Where’s
your car? I thought you said we are
going to a date that I owe you?”
“We are going to a date.” He said
with a dashing smile on his face.
“But we’ll do it my way. I don’t do
romantic dates, darling. But I
assure you this will be fun.”
I am not still convinced. Though, I
have to admit that I agree with him
that he wasn’t the type of guy who
does romantic dates. That’s why
maybe I am intrigue by what he
had installed for me.
With a snickered I march back to
the penthouse building and nearly
run to the elevator and go back to
my apartment. I changed to my
most casual clothes with a pair of
jeans, blouse and a butter colored
jacket but I kept my killer heels.
“I’m ready.” I told him again after a
few minutes.
He eyed me again from head to toe
and whistled quietly. “Not bad.”
I tried to stop the grinned that
wanted to escape from my lips. He
walked where he parked his bike
and get the helmet and place it in
my head. God, it’s so heavy.
“Come.” He said, pulling me to the
motorbike. “Have you ever ridden a
motorbike before?”
I only managed to shake my head. I
saw him smile privately like he was
enjoying a private joke. He rode the
motorcycle with suave while I did it
awkwardly.
He grabbed both of my hands and
locked them in his middle. I could
feel the hardness of his dashboard
stomach. “Hold tight if I were you,
my Francesca.”
Is that supposed to be a warning?
But before I could ask my question
out loud he purred the engine and
it gave birth to a throaty roar.
*
I squeaked a little when it spring to
life. I hold tightly to him as we fled
to the highway. The wind sweep
with me with our speed, I closed
my eyes with my blurred scenery.
We’re too fast as if the demons of
hell were after us. It was downright
scary.
“Scared?” I heard him asked with
amusement in his voice.
I will snarl at him if I wasn’t this
petrified. “No!”
“Then you’d better hold tight, my
love.” He laughed. Then he
accelerated the speed even more. I
could swear we were flying by
now.
After half an hour praying to the
Almighty for our safety and
swearing that I will not ride this
kind of thing again. Finally, after like
an eternity the motorcycle stops.
“We’re here.” He said, while he
removed my helmet. I breathed the
fresh air again. I never appreciate
life not until today.
“Where are we?” I asked, eyeing
the car parked not far from us.
He tossed something in my
direction which I caught halfway
awkwardly. “Are you surprise? I will
teach you how to drive.”
“You are what?” I stared at him in
bewilderment.
He ran his hand in his hair. My
hands itch to do it myself. “Come,
we still have long day ahead of us.”
I reluctantly walked at the waiting
car. My knees are shaking. I never
drive before this is the first time I
will seat at the driver’s seat. But I
will confess I am tremendously
excited about this.
“Don’t blame me if I scratch this
car.” I told him when I slid to the
driver’s seat. My heart pounded
loudly in my ribcage.
He grinned. His dark eyes gleamed
with delight. “A scratch will not
hurt, darling.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I said
as I started the car.
Marco Orsini’s POV
“Dio! Goddamnit, woman!”
I shouted while hold in the
dashboard and at the side of my
chair like they were my lifeline. I
never felt terrified in my life before
but I am as hell experiencing right
now. I don’t know what madness
had possessed me to think that I
can teach Francesca Marcolini how
to ride.
“Turn right!” I screamed, thinking
that I am not far away with my
death. “Slow down, for god’s sake!”
“Don’t shout!” She said loudly while
still driving like a drunk—no, even a
drunk driver drives more cautious
than her.
“Oh, my goodness. I am about to
die today.” I muttered to myself,
halfway from confessing all my sins.
“You do realize that when I died
thousands of employees will be
affected?”
“Will you just shut up?” Francesca
glanced at me briefly. “You are
making me more nervous!”
“Eyes on the road, woman!”
“I said, do not shout!” She retorted
back, still driving like a maniac.
“You are hopeless.” I told her
truthfully, as I watch in horror our
car zigzag on the road. “The Italian
government will never give you a
license.”
“This is just my first time to drive.”
She said defensively.
“I am not this bad when I first held
wheels.” I informed her confidently.
“If you are trying to kill me. You are
doing just perfectly fine.”
*
Funny, Marco.”
“It’s true.” I clutched my leather
seat tightly. “Stop the car.”
“What…?” She glanced distractedly
towards me. “What did you say?”
“Stop.The.Car.”
She break it abruptly that made us
bounced to our seat. I removed my
seatbelt and slid out of the
passenger’s seat.
“Get out.” I told her when I stood
outside her door. “This is enough. I
have enough of your death defying
drive.”
“How harsh.” She grumbled as she
moved to the passenger’s seat.
“Where are we going now?”
“Eat.” I said briskly, driving off this
car swiftly. “I think I just lost ten
years of my life.”
Francesca Marcolini’s POV
“Where are we?” I asked as soon
as we arrived at the elegant
restaurant.
“Hi, Marco.” A strikingly beautiful
woman greeted him with a warm
smile. An unexpected jealously filled
my heart. I was stunned but it.
“Hello, Sharon.” He greeted back, I
nearly stagger. Who is she to his
life? The camaraderie between
them was evident.
“Marco!” A little girl who was about
six years old went out from the
kitchen and runs toward his open
arms. “Marco.”
“How are you?” The delight in his
face was noticeable as he scooped
the little girl in his arms. Is she his
illegitimate daughter with this
woman?
I could feel that tears want to
escape from my eyes. I don’t know
why.
“How are you, Brianna?” He asked
the little girl while he kissed her
cheeks.
“I just eat cake inside.”
“Really?” Marco asked animatedly.
“Do you have some for me?”
“Yes!”
“Brianna.” The woman said kindly.
“Go back to the kitchen. Marco has
a visitor to entertain.”
The little girl did what she was told.
“Is he here?” Marco asked the
woman.
“Yes.” Sharon answered, glancing
in my direction. “I’m sure he will be
happy to see you.”
“Come, Francesca.” He pulled my
hand and went straight to the
kitchen. “No. she’s not and Briana is
not my child.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
He looked at me dryly. “I could see
from your expressive eyes,
Francesca. She’s my stepmother
and that little girl is my baby sister.”
I stared at him in astonishment. Is
that true? I didn’t know that his
father remarried.
“Father,” He called the elderly man
who was busy cooking.
“Marco!” The man beamed into a
smile as he hugged his son
affectionately. “It’s been a while,
figlio.”
I just stood here while watching
them exchanged pleasantries.
“Who is this pretty lady with you,
Marco?” His father asked with
sparks in his eyes.
Marco drew me forward for his
father’s inspection. “Father, this is
Francesca.” He performed the
introduction. “Francesca, this is my
father, Alessandro. The owner of
this restaurant.”
*
Hello, sir.” I murmured shyly.
He surprised me when he
enveloped me with a warm
hugged. “Hello, child.”
“Father, I will use your private
kitchen.”
“You will cook?” His father asked a
little surprised.
“You can cook?” I asked with
unison.
He threw a heart-melting grinned.
“Of course.”
“I will entertain this lovely woman
while you cook, Marco.” Alessandro
said pulling me gently in the private
garden outside. “Tell me about
yourself, Francesca.”
I smiled while he poured red wine
to our glass. “There’s nothing
special about me, sir.”
“I disagree.” Marco’s father
contradicted with a private smile.
“You are the only woman Marco
ever introduces to me. So I am sure
you are pretty special for my son.”
Uh-oh.

To be continued