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I voiced my concern to Ian. “If whatever changes hurts Rocco, and I have a say, I won’t do it.”
His lips formed a broad smile. “How sweet, but let’s be real. You have to think about your family. Refusing whatever is there that cuts you or your family out will leave you vulnerable. The fact I was called makes me believe there is something, so we’ll see. Bottom line, if it’s tough for you, I’m tougher. If it goes sideways and his family gets angry and says mean things, stay strong and quiet. You’ll get through this.”
I glanced out the window, and we’d only reached 59th Street. I didn’t want to talk any more about Luca’s will. It seemed wrong that I was involved at all. However, I was now a Marini. What would it mean for Rocco and me as a married couple? Luca had told me I needed to be strong, but what had he done that I’d need strength to handle?
Without a chance to catch our breaths, the press had taken over the front of Marini Corporate. They had television cameras, paparazzi poised and ready to speak to any Marini that might come to force an impromptu interview. Somehow, they always seemed to know our every move and what was happening. Staring out there was only one path inside the glass front lobby and we’d have to walk past them. My heart pounded as anxiety took hold of me. I felt a touch on my hand and turned to Ian. “A few seconds and we’ll be inside. Don’t worry.”
Zane climbed out and ran towards the building. A few seconds later, he returned with two security guards to our door.
“Don’t say a word,” Ian instructed, picking up his briefcase. He climbed out first, and I followed. Zane moved to the other side of me, and with the security, we walked forward as a unit toward the front lobby. The paparazzi shouted questions.
Adelina…Adelina, is that a wedding ring on your finger?
When did you and Rocco get married?
Did you know Luca Marini was ill?
Are you pregnant?
I clenched my jaw and stumbled.Pregnant? Why did they ask that?
“Stay back,” a security guard shouted, but the press ignored him.
So you are pregnant? Is that why the fast wedding?
“No, no. Uh, I’m not-I’m not pregnant,” I stammered.Am I?
The paparazzi pressed closer still, and one male stepped before the security blocked our path.He pushed his camera close to my face.“Did you elope because you’re pregnant or was the wedding secretly held? Why wasn’t your father, Eric Colby, invited? He said he’s looking forward to a reunion.”
I prickled and pressed my lips together.
A police officer appeared and yelled. “Move back. Now.”
The press finally stepped aside, and we rushed forward inside the building.
I took a deep breath when the door closed, and the lobby’s low lighting put me at ease. Ian signed us in, and then we walked down the grey carpet to the elevators.
“We’re early,” Ian announced and pressed the button that lit up with an icon of a steaming cup of coffee to floor 19. We climbed inside, and I wasted the short ride on my father. The thought of seeing him again brought on a feeling of dread that cramped my stomach.There’s no way he’ll stay away from me now that I married a billionaire.
“Are you okay, Adelina?”
I bobbed my head. “Uhm, yeah. The press caught me off-guard.”
Ian gave me a sympathetic look. “That’s what they do, but please don’t let them get to you.”
What he said made sense; besides my father, I had other things to worry about, mainly what my new in-laws thought about us marrying today. Had they expected a marriage at all? They knew my grandparents would never agree to a three-month delay, didn’t they?
The door opened to a complete café lounge, which was not what I expected, though admittedly, I had only been in a few offices.It had a relaxingambiance with soft lighting and easy-listening music playing at a low volume in the background. A few people were seated at the circular tables and couches, and some were working at computer stations.
We went to the counter, and the aroma of freshly baked banana nut muffins made my mouth water.
“What would you like?” Ian asked.
“Just a chocolate espresso,” I murmured and glanced around.
He placed an order, and we sat down at a table near the window.
I rubbed my neck. “So you’re my lawyer? Since when?”