Accidental Bride by Cristina Lollabrigida

ChapterNine

Drake brokeinto a cold sweat as he watched his wife walk out the door. Despite Riley’s protests, he quickly threw on jeans and a T-shirt. By the time he reached the lobby and ran out to the street, Alessandra was nowhere to be seen.

He pulled out his cell and called her immediately, but it went straight to voicemail. He tried again before cursing and kicking at a pebble on the sidewalk. He thrust his hands through his hair as he had a tendency to do when frustrated.

He gave up and returned to the building. The concierge shook his head when Drake asked which way Alessandra had gone. He’d royally fucked up, but it wasn’t what Alessandra thought. If only she had given him a chance to explain.

When Alessandra returned, he would place a tracker on her phone so he would always know where she was if she left again. He hoped she was somewhere safe. A night to cool down might be what she needed.

He dreaded riding the elevator alone, knowing his night was far from over. When the doors opened and he stepped off the elevator, he saw Riley stripped down to white lingerie and posed seductively on the couch. The set was similar to what Alessandra wore on their wedding night. His cock twitched at the memory of tearing the sexy lace from his wife’s body.

“Come to me, lover,” Riley beckoned. Her voice was an ice bath on his fantasy.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Drake roared. “That’s my wife you chased away.”

Riley rose from the couch and slowly approached Drake, swinging her hips. She stroked his arm and said, “No darling, she’s not your wife. I understand your need for toys but don’t forget we had an agreement. This is far from discreet.”

Drake shook her off his arm and stepped back. “You broke our arrangement when you called off the wedding last month. I told you I would cancel the wedding, but you begged me to reconsider. You left me standing at the altar like a fool. I thought we had an understanding. If you didn’t want to marry me, you shouldn’t have accepted my proposal in the first place.”

Riley sighed and approached Drake again. She crossed her arms and tapped her manicured nails against her elbow. “I care about you, Drake, but I had cold feet. You, of all people, should respect that. All I needed was a moment to sort my feelings.

“I was packing for my flight when Anthony Russo’s men showed up at my Paris flat. They forced me to write that letter rejecting you. I told them it wouldn’t stop me, and they took my passport for good measure.

“It took me time to get an expedited replacement. Imagine my dismay when I found out you married someone else! I’m the one who should feel betrayed here. Look, why don’t we have a drink and talk about this….”

“Fine,” Drake snapped.

He poured himself a generous whiskey and a glass of rosé for Riley. When he came back with their drinks, she was still in her underwear.

“Put your clothes on, Riley. Let me assure you that nothing will ever happen between us. We’ll have a drink, and then you need to pack your shit and get out.”

“I don’t even have a car, Drake. I only just arrived back yesterday. I’m staying in a hotel.”

“Then I’ll hire movers, and you can rent a storage facility. From what I heard, you’ve come into some money recently.”

“Now, don’t be like that, darling. Surely we can work out some other arrangement.” She rubbed his bicep. “I’m a bit strapped for cash at the moment.”

Riley began listing the things she had spent her money on, hoping to elicit sympathy from Drake. But he didn’t give a shit. He would never care about Riley again. After Alessandra left, he realized how much he’d come to care for her. And what a fool he was for letting her walk away.

“We can work this out, Drake. Why don’t I just move into the guest room for a while? That was always the plan, and I had to give up my flat in Paris.” She grinned like a Cheshire Cat.

“There’s no way in hell that’s going to happen. My wife shouldn’t feel like you’re a ghost in our relationship. What you’re doing isn’t fair to her, Riley.”

Riley narrowed her eyes and replied mockingly, “Don’t tell me the infallible Drake Walker caught feelings for a little girl. Who is she? Surely you knew it wasn’t me walking down the aisle. I didn’t change that much in a year. Be honest and tell me why you married her. We agreed to have an open marriage. You could’ve fucked her.”

Drake shook his head. “You know I would’ve been faithful in our marriage.”

“If there was anyone else underneath that veil besides Alessandra Russo, would you have said ‘I do’?”

Drake’s heart beat wildly. He never intended for Alessandra to learn the truth about their wedding day. And here, his perceptive ex had his feet to the fire.

“I wanted Alessandra Russo. She was always supposed to be mine!” He was riled up and almost divulged everything. He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “You need to leave now, Riley. The doorman will call you a cab and ensure you have enough money to return to your hotel safely. You’re not welcome here anymore. This is my home.

“I’m going to pack up your belongings and send them to storage. I’ll let you know where they end up and pay for the first three months. After that, it’s on you.”

“This isn’t over, Drake,” she hissed.

Before going to bed that night, Drake received a text from Alessandra that confirmed she was safe, with a pin containing Jenny Nguyen’s contact information.

Drake: Thank you for taking care of my wife.

Jenny: I didn’t do it for you, Mr. Walker.

Drake: Despite what people think, I care about her. I’m not a monster.

Jenny: I’m billing you for this conversation.

Drake: I don’t give a shit about your billable hours. Just keep Alessandra safe. Let me know if she needs anything.

Jenny: I’ll see you in court.

* * *

The first thingDrake did the following day was hire a packing and moving service. He paid an exorbitant amount of money to have them there that afternoon. It was a pittance to him, and he should’ve done it sooner.

The next thing he did was call his stylist. He placed an order for a new wardrobe, including shoes and accessories. This was Alessandra’s home now, and he hoped to create a more hospitable atmosphere for her homecoming. Her appreciation of his efforts wasn’t necessary.

Unsure of Alessandra’s favorite foods, Drake hired a chef to assemble a menu for the week and a shopper to purchase the ingredients. Assorted fresh fruits filled the bowl on the counter. He grabbed a banana, chocolate protein powder, peanut butter, and almond milk, threw all the ingredients into a blender, and made himself a protein shake.

Lastly, he called his housekeeper and asked her to spend the day organizing the loft. He planned to tip her a month’s salary on her next check for her trouble.

He readied himself to meet his parents for lunch to try to explain the clusterfuck that was his wedding day. He arrived at The Lake Forest Club, where his family had been members for as long as he could remember. The large club had a pool and diving well, twelve tennis courts, and four paddle courts. The dining options changed several times through the seasons and featured new weekly specials.

His parents were already seated when the hostess showed him to the table. Bitsy Walker, the family matriarch, gracefully rose to greet her eldest son. She was impeccably dressed from head to toe. Not a single hair was out of place nor a wrinkle on her filler-injected face. She could only muster a tight smile in greeting as he kissed her cheek.

“Hello, Drake.” Bitsy smoothed her tailored Chanel suit before sitting back down.

“Hello, Mother. Hello, Father.”

“Hello, son.” Dick Walker greeted his son with a clap on the shoulder.

They sat down, and Drake ordered a filet and beer. They exchanged pleasantries while waiting for their food to arrive. Bitsy shared gossip regarding her friends from the country club and briefed him on the upcoming charity event that she was organizing. Dick told him about his latest golf game.

Once the food arrived, Bitsy shook the linen napkin out and placed it delicately in her lap. Drake and Dick followed suit. Bitsy sighed in discontent over her salad. It was time for them to discuss the matter at hand.

“The Watsons weren’t happy about the wedding,” Bitsy sniffed.

“I paid for the damn thing. They didn’t bother coming to the church.”

“Regardless of whether or not Riley called off your engagement, you should’ve canceled the wedding. You made us look like fools in front of our friends.”

“I’m sorry, Mother. Rest assured, I am not concerned with the opinions of your friends.”

“Watch your tone with your mother, Drake,” Dick cautioned.

Bitsy didn’t cry, nor did she suffer fools. Drake had committed the greatest sin in her book by creating a public scene with his outburst in church. But he didn’t give a fuck about their affluent friends anymore. His priority was his wife. Drake adopted a stoic expression and checked his emotions.

“Who is this girl?” his father asked.

“Her name is Alessandra Russo.”

“As in—” Bitsy gasped.

“Yes.”

Drake continued to explain the complexity of his situation to the best of his abilities. There were some things he couldn’t tell them for their own safety. He hoped they would understand one day.

Dick clapped his hands. “That settles it. You’ll bring this young lady home for dinner next week. We want to meet her.”

To Drake’s disappointment, Alessandra wasn't home when he returned that evening. But everything else was taken care of. He called her, but again his call went straight to voicemail.

He yearned for his wife, and sitting in the darkness without her angered the beast within him. The longer she stayed away, the worse her punishment would be.

They would see each other in court a few days later. He resolved to drag her home, kicking and screaming if he had to. He helped himself to the rest of the whiskey before bed.