The Billionaire’s Prodigal Wife (Mackenna and Alessandro)

In the morning she made her way to the clerk's office after stopping to talk to a few of her grandparents' neighbors. Her grandfather never left her side and when it was time to sign the papers and her hands trembled so bad, she couldn't put the ink to paper, he'd held her in his arms while she sobbed uncontrollably.

"It should not be this hard," she cried against his shoulder.

"You love him still Mackenna," her grandfather whispered softly. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"He does not love me. He wants only to own me. He kept me hidden like he was ashamed of me, as if he were worried the world would find out he had married beneath him." She wiped her tears angrily as she begged for her anger to return so she could complete the task she had set out to do. "He would prance all over the place with that harlot on his arm and she would call me and tell me she watched him sleep because he was exhausted from her lovemaking." She grabbed the pen angrily ignoring the wide eyes of the clerk. "This ends today."

"Actually, it won't end today. This is just the beginning of this process." The clerk eyed at her with a frown.

Her lawyer Camille rolled her eyes and patted her shoulder. "It is the end for you Mackenna. Once I advise the judge of the way he's harassed your family, the judge will certainly side with you and your personal information, your whereabouts and your employer will remain confidential. I will speak with the judge today. You can begin to relax now. The rest of your life is ahead of you and the past is just the past."

To celebrate, she' decided to go shopping for new shoes and a matching suit for work. Her grandfather had declined to accompany her on the trip, but her grandmother was more than happy to tag along. They shopped all day and the next day they went out again to finish the rest of the list she'd made of required items to take back to Phoenix. She'd been in Milan for three days and already she could feel the weight of her grandmother's cooking resting on her hips.

She was exiting a shop on Corso Buenos Aires when the sight of a tall dark man made her heart stop and her footsteps falter. Her grandmother's eyes followed her gaze and then gripped Mackenna's hand. "He is in Paris, remember. He's just yet another tall dark Italian man are a dime a dozen in this city." Her voice trailed to a whisper as the man turned around and locked eyes with her granddaughter. Sofia made the sign of the cross over her body. "Madre de Dio, he looks angry"

"I'm starting to think he has a microchip embedded in me which turns on whenever I step on Italian soil," Mackenna whispered fearfully as Alessandro folded his telephone shut and made his way purposefully through the heavy traffic in her direction.

"It is unbelievable." Sofia agreed as she clutched Mackenna's arm. "I would encourage you to try to avoid him, but I don't think it is possible. There is nowhere to go."

From the way he gained ground on her, his strides easily two to her one, she knew even if she tried to throw herself under a nearby bus, he'd reach her before impact. She steeled herself for the flash of anger and the furious tirade of anger to come. She kept her face straight and tried to steady the thundering of her heart as she took in him. He hadn't changed an ounce in five years. Tall, dark, lean, and strong and the amber eyes drilling right to her core were all present, as if a checklist had been done in preparation of the assault on her senses. She waited for it as he approached. He had never been one to avoid give her a dressing down in public or anywhere for the matter and so as he drew closer, she felt her feet bracing against the asphalt for the impact it would make.

His fingers dug painfully as they squeezed her shoulders, ensuring she couldn't run, "and so, the prodigal wife returns."

"Alessandro, let me go." She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he was too strong. "You're hurting me."

"Do you know what pain is, Mackenna?" He asked coldly. "Do you really know what pain is?"

She ignored his sarcastic words. "You're supposed to be in Paris. It's fashion week."

"That's right and you are deliberately toying with my work and contractual obligations." He motioned to a security agent behind him. "Help Signora Giordano to the car with her bags please."

"We are not going with you Alessandro." Mackenna argued with him and stopped the man from taking the bags and ushering her grandmother to the car.

"Mackenna, I am not going to quarrel with you over this in the middle of a street." Alessandro glared furiously down at her, his toes touching hers.

"Good, then back off and let me go." She tugged her hands away from the firm grip he had on her, but he held her fast.

"Get it in the limo now." He spit through his clenched jaw.

"No." She hissed back. "Go back to Paris. I'm sure Dulce is unable to function without you at her side."

Her grandmother took her hand. "Mackenna, people are staring and there is a photographer coming down the street. Perhaps we should let Alessandro drive us back to the apartment and he can come in and speak to you there."

Mackenna could see how much her grandmother was mortified by their argument. She was a private person, quiet, shy, and reserved. Although their voices were hissed whispers, they were attracting attention on the busy street and Mackenna instantly felt badly for embarrassing her. "I'm sorry Nonna. Let's get you home."

Alessandro's grip didn't loosen a fraction on her shoulder as he turned her and marched her to the waiting limousine. She stood back while her grandmother was gently escorted into the vehicle. She ducked into the dark car with the tinted windows just as one of the security personnel grabbed a camera from a photographer and deleted the pictures he'd taken.

This was one of the things she'd never cared for with Alessandro. It wasn't she cared people wanted to take his picture or hers since she was with him. It was the fact Alessandro made it the top item on his list of security nobody knew of their relationship. It made her furious to know if Dulce were on his arm, the paparazzi could have taken a thousand photos and he wouldn't have flinched, and his security would have simply pushed them into the car. But since he wasn't with Dulce and he was with her, the pictures were deleted as if they were tainted and humiliating.

She crawled beside her grandmother and sat stiffly with her bags on the seat beside her. She held her grandmother's hand. "Nona, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause you embarrassment."

"Do not fret, Mackenna. It is not your fault. Alessandro attracts attention wherever he goes." She looked up as the man glided into the seat opposite them.

"Your grandmother is correct, Mackenna. It is why you should not be wandering the streets without security." He tugged his pant leg up as he crossed his ankle over his knee.

"No, it is why I shouldn't be wandering the streets without a court order barring you from being anywhere near me." She hissed back furiously.

He stared at her across the darkened interior of the vehicle and wondered what had happened to the childish pixie-like girl he'd married. Gone was the short blonde bob which had curved her cheeks making them rounded and full and in its place her hair now hung in a long straight waterfall of soft cinnamon with honeyed streaks throughout and cut in a fringe bang making her blue eyes seem rounded. The fringe framing the top of her face, making her chin seem narrower and her cheekbones higher. The young girl he'd spent the last five years searching for was replaced by a very business-like individual who scowled at him as if he were nothing to her. As beautiful as he considered her, he was not appreciative in the least of the way her attitude had changed. "When did you turn into such a b***h?"

She heard her grandmother's gasp and she glared at him. "Watch your mouth around my grandmother, please. It might be satisfactory with the regular company you keep talking like a sailor, but I find it disrespectful for you to speak in such a manner in front of my grandmother."

He looked to her grandmother, chastised and genuinely apologetic. "I apologize, Sofia. Mackenna is right. I disrespect you. Please accept my apology."

"Of course, Alessandro but I would just like to go home now please." Sofia swallowed the lump in her throat. The atmosphere in the car was charged and she folded her hands neatly to her lap as Alessandro tapped on the window for the car to begin the ride to the apartment where she lived with her husband.

He eyed Mackenna carefully. "You've changed."

"Did you expect I was going to stay the doormat you wiped your feet on forever?" She retorted nastily.

"I don't recall ever wiping my feet on you." He leaned into his seat and reached into his pocket for his cigarettes.

As he reached for the lighter, she felt a pain in her chest at the gold-plated item in his hand. She'd bought it for him for their first wedding anniversary. He had always been using matches and constantly running out. She'd had it engraved with his initial on the side and the bottom simply said 'love Mackenna.' He'd told her he would always treasure it. That he still used it irked.

She looked out the window. All she wanted was to get away from him and breathe freely because the longer she sat in his proximity the more she doubted the filing of her divorce papers. His amber eyes always had a way of making her feel desired and wanted and even in his anger she could see those emotions as he drew a long breath on his cigarette.

"Mackenna, perhaps you can tell me where you've been for the last four years and eleven months." He held his cigarette pinched between his fingers as he waited for her to speak.

"Working." She looked away from the dark hair escaping the hem of his pants and over his sock. It dawned on her she was still as sexually aware of him as she always was. They were like magnets and the tug between them was fierce. Or at least, she admitted to herself, the tug on her was fierce. She knew now he had simply enjoyed the power and control he had over and there was no love there.

He sighed loudly, a stream of smoke billowing through his nostrils at the sound and he looked to her grandmother impatiently. "Do you notice the change in your granddaughter or am I imagining she is belligerent and difficult?"

“Mackenna has become a strong confident young woman and I am proud of her," Sofia's chin jutted forward in an unusual display of defiance. “It takes a lot of courage to leave everyone you love and start over."

"So, you support her in this foolishness?" Alessandro admitted to being surprised. "You do not miss her?"

"I miss her deeply every day, but I only want her happiness. You forget my only child, her mother, also left to follow her heart. I support Mackenna just as I did my Madeline." Sofia held his gaze but then turned her face away suddenly as if she could no longer bear looking into his eyes.

"Well, you won't miss her any longer. She is finally home, and we are going to sit down and resolve this foolishness which has kept her away for too long. Mackenna is home to stay." The finality of his words punctuated with a plume of smoke as he exhaled into the tight interior. Alessandro finished his cigarette and crushed out the end with his fingers and stuffed it into an ashtray. His gaze dared Mackenna to argue.