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borgiafataleAfter nearly a year in Milan, Lucrezia was happy to be back in London. She'd missed it. This was her city, her family's city. Her father at least seemed to think he owned it, and perhaps he would someday, given the current gossip around the next PM elections. He'd made some very politically effective speeches lately, coming off as particularly compassionate, meaning he was plotting something.
It was probably a little too fast that she'd agreed to take the long term modeling contract that would take her away from London for so long. She hadn't asked Allan first. And when she told him, she'd pointed out that it was probably her last opportunity since she would age out of modeling soon enough. But he hadn't cared, not one bit. He was probably relieved. Glad she'd be away and he could stop hiding his mistress, whoever she was. Just as Lucrezia took the job in part to get away from him, from his cheating and drinking. Michael had seemed so certain that his drinking would lead to violence, just like her last husband. So it was only a stop gap, but there was a whole year where he didn't have the opportunity.
He'd seemed happy to see her, if the enthusiasm with which he dragged her to bed said anything. Though on the other hand, three days after Lucrezia's return five days ago, Allan had left on a business trip.
Which was why, as she walked out of a cafe holding a large cappuccino, it was a pretty big shock to see him across the street. A big enough shock that she dropped the cup, splattering hot coffee over her white tights (thankfully not bare legs). "Christ!" she gasped in surprise (he father would be appalled). And then she immediately spun around, afraid he might look over and see her, ignoring the cup rolling down the sidewalk and into someone's feet.
She probably looked like a crazy person. And she felt crazy, too, for being surprised at all.
It was probably a little too fast that she'd agreed to take the long term modeling contract that would take her away from London for so long. She hadn't asked Allan first. And when she told him, she'd pointed out that it was probably her last opportunity since she would age out of modeling soon enough. But he hadn't cared, not one bit. He was probably relieved. Glad she'd be away and he could stop hiding his mistress, whoever she was. Just as Lucrezia took the job in part to get away from him, from his cheating and drinking. Michael had seemed so certain that his drinking would lead to violence, just like her last husband. So it was only a stop gap, but there was a whole year where he didn't have the opportunity.
He'd seemed happy to see her, if the enthusiasm with which he dragged her to bed said anything. Though on the other hand, three days after Lucrezia's return five days ago, Allan had left on a business trip.
Which was why, as she walked out of a cafe holding a large cappuccino, it was a pretty big shock to see him across the street. A big enough shock that she dropped the cup, splattering hot coffee over her white tights (thankfully not bare legs). "Christ!" she gasped in surprise (he father would be appalled). And then she immediately spun around, afraid he might look over and see her, ignoring the cup rolling down the sidewalk and into someone's feet.
She probably looked like a crazy person. And she felt crazy, too, for being surprised at all.
