CHAPTER 3

         His gaze delved into her culpable one. She couldn’t hide the turmoil and resentment coursing through her at being put on the spot.

“I am innocent and I’m absolutely sure you can prove it without roaming inside my phone as if you’re entitled to do so. My privacy has been invaded enough for one day, signor Gritti. Don’t you agree?”

          She was naked… On the internet.

          Norah supposed everyone in the building was staring at her image right now. Men saying filthy, nasty things about her, about every single part of her body… imagining doing dirty things to her… Women judging whether her stomach was flat enough, saying she had cellulite, calling her too bony or too tall or too something so they could feel better about their own body issues… Calling her a whore even…

          All Norah wanted was to hang her head and sob. All she could think was how hard she’d worked not to be pushed around by life the way her mother had been. At every stage, she’d tried to be self-reliant, independent, and in control of her future… of her destiny.

          ‘Breathe, girl, breathe,’ she commanded herself. ‘Don’t think about it. Don’t break down now!’

          But Norah felt like falling apart.

“I think we have our answer,” signor Sensi said unkindly. “She would not hand over the phone, so I guess we’re done here…”

          Norah was starting to loathe that man and she wasn’t the type to loathe a person. She did her best to get along with everyone. She was a happy person, always believing that life was too short for drama and conflict.

          Being the first to apologize made her the bigger person, she had always thought, but she doubted she would ever forgive these people for how they were treating her right now.

          A muted buzz sounded and Ivana looked at her own phone.

“Signor Gritti, the press is gathering. We need to make a statement. We need to make one right about now.”

          The press?

“Oh, dear God…”

          Agitated, Norah circled around Sensi to the window and looked down. Ivana’s office was midway up the tower, but the crowd at the entrance, and the cameras they held, were like ants pouring out of a disturbed hill.

          It was as bad as a royal birth down there.

          Norah swallowed, her stomach turning again. Phillip Weldon was an icon, a modern-day, international superhero who flew into disaster aftermath to offer ‘feet on the ground’ assistance.

          Anyone with half a brain saw that Weldon exploited heart-wrenching situations on camera to increase donations and boost his own profile, but the bottom line was he showed up to terrible tragedies and brought aid. He did real, necessary work for the devastated.

          But lately, Norah had been questioning how he spent some of those abundant donations. These photos… Had this been his answer? A massive discrediting that would get her fired?

“Don’t panic…” she whispered and hugged herself.

          This sort of thing didn’t happen to real people… Did it?

          Her gaze searched below for an escape route. She couldn’t even leave the building to get to her rented flat in Milan.

          How would she get back to The States?

          Even if she got that far, then what?

          Ask her stepfather to shelter her, a grown-ass woman?

          But, most importantly, who in the world was going to hire her with this sort of notoriety? Ever?

“No one…” she whispered again.

          She’d be exactly what she’d tried so hard to avoid being: a burden. A leach.

“Oh, God... Oh, God.”

          The walls were beginning to creak and buckle around her composure. The pressure behind her cheekbones built along with the weight on her shoulders and upper arms.

          Ivana was talking as she typed.

“And say that the bank was unaware of this personal relationship and the employee has been terminated…”

“Our client has stated that the photos were not requested,” signor Sensi interjected.

          Norah spun around. The temperature inside her brain was rising dangerously.

“And your… ‘employee’ states that she’s been targeted by a peeping tom and an online porn peddler and his vengeful wife.”

          Ivana paused only long enough to send her a stern look.

“I strongly advise you not to speak to the press… Miss Wilde.”

“I strongly state here, in front of you all, that I will be speaking to a lawyer.”

          It was an empty threat. Her savings were very modest… Extremely modest. Much as she would love to believe her stepbrother would help her, she couldn’t count on it. He had his own corporate image to maintain.

          After that statement, Norah could feel Leone’s eyes burning her skin. The way Leone Gritti continued to emanate hostility made her want to crawl into a hole and die.

“How long have you been with the company?” Ivana asked.

“Two years in New York, four months here, in Milan,” Norah answered, trying to recall how much room her credit card balance had for plane fare and setting up house back in New York.

          Not enough... Not by a long shot!

“Two years,” Ivana snorted. “Really? How did you earn a promotion like this after only that short a time?”

          Her gaze skimmed down Norah’s figure, clearly implying that Norah had slept her way into the position. Night school and language classes and putting in overtime counted for nothing, apparently. And Signor Sensi didn’t defend her, despite signing off on her transfer and giving her a glowing review after her first three months.

          Leone’s expression was an inscrutable mask.

          Was he thinking the same thing?

          A disbelieving sob escaped her and Norah hugged herself, trying hard not to lose her mind. Leone brought his own phone from his pants pocket and with a sweep and tap, connected to someone.

“Stefano? Ciao! Leone here. I need you in Ivana Rossi’s office. ‘Subito’! (Right away!) Bring some of your men.”

“Really? Let me guess… You’re organizing my walk of shame already…” Norah said and her voice cracked.

          Here came the tears, welling up like a tsunami with a mile of volume behind it.

“Uhm… Don’t worry, signor Gritti. I plan to leave quickly and quietly. I can’t wait to not work here anymore.”

“Miss Wilde, you’re still one of my employees, so, you’ll stay right here until I tell you to leave.”

          His tone was implacable, making her heart sink in her hollow chest while another part of her rose in defiance, wanting to fight and rail and physically tear at him to get out of there. She was the quintessential wounded animal that needed to bolt from danger to its cave.

          Then, he turned to Ivana.

“Confirm the photos belong to one of our employees,” he added, in a different tone than the one she used with her. “For privacy and legal reasons, we have no other comment. Ask the reporters to disperse and enlist the lobby guards to help. Issue a similar statement to all employees. Add a warning that they risk IMMEDIATE termination if they speak to the press or are observed viewing the photos on corporate equipment or company grounds. Fabio, I need a full report on how these photos came to your attention. ASAP!”

“Signor Weldon contacted me this morning, sir.”

“Not here.”

          Leone moved to the door as a knock sounded.

“In your office. Wait here,” he said over his shoulder to Norah, like she was a dog to be left at home while he went to work.

          He urged the other two from the room and pulled the door closed behind the three of them.

“Yeah, right,” Norah rasped into the silence of Ivana’s empty office, hugging herself so tightly she was suffocating.

          A twisting, writhing pain moved in her like a snake, coiling around her organs to squeeze her heart and lungs, tightening her stomach and closing her throat. She covered her face, trying to hide from the terrible reality that everyone… everyone in the world… was not only staring at her naked body but believing that she had had sex with a married man.

          Norah could live with people staring at her body… Almost...

          They did it, anyway.

          But she was a good employee and a good person. She didn’t lie or steal or come on to men, especially married ones! She was conservative in the way she lived her life, saving her craziest impulses for things like her career.

          She did wildly ambitious things like sign up for all the online business programs and self-teaching Italian in hopes of moving up the ladder… and for what? For ending up like this?

          The pressure in her cheekbones and nose and under her eyes became unbearable. She tried to press it back with the flats of her hands, but a moan of anguish was building from the middle of her chest.

“I need help… God, I really need a hand here…”

          A sob bounced like a hard pinball, bashing against her inner walls, moving up from her breastbone into her throat.

“No!”

          Quite determined, Norah shook her head.

“I can’t break down,” she reminded herself. “Not here. Not yet. Not now.”

          She had to get out of this place and the sooner the better.

          It was going to be awful.

          A nightmare, but she would do it, head high and under her own steam.

          Gritting her teeth, Norah reached for the door and started to open it. A burly man wearing a suit and a short, neat haircut was standing with his back to the door.

          Was he… guarding her?

          The man grabbed the doorknob, keeping her from pulling it open. His body angled enough she could see he also wore some kind of clear plastic earpiece. His glance at her was both indifferent and implacable.

“The boss said that you must wait here, Miss Wilde. You’re not supposed to leave this room under any circumstances,” the guard said to her.

          Norah was so shocked, she let him pull the door from her lax grip and close her into Ivana’s office again. Actually, it slipped freely from her clammy hand.

          The room began to feel very claustrophobic.

          She moved to the window again, seeing the crowd of reporters had grown. She couldn’t tell if Ivana was addressing them. She could hardly see. Her vision was blurring.

          Norah sniffed, feeling the weight of all that had happened so deeply that she had to move to the nearest chair and sink into it. Her breath hitched and no amount of pressure from her hands would push back the burn behind her eyes.

          The door opened again, startling her heart into lurching and her head into jerking up.

          He was back.

          Leone Gritti was in the same room with her… again.

          Was he going to be her savior or was he going to be her executioner?