THE ITALIAN HEARTTHROB
N.J. ADEL
This is a work of fiction. All incidents and dialogue, and all characters are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
THE ITALIAN HEARTTHROB
Copyright © 2020 N.J. Adel
All rights reserved.
ALL CHARACTERS DEPICTED ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18.
WARNING
THIS BOOK FEATURES EXPLICIT DEPICTIONS OF SEX AND OTHER MATERIAL THAT MAY OFFEND SOME AUDIENCES. THEREFORE, IS INTENDED FOR ADULTS ONLY.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author at the e-mail address below.
n.j.adel.majesty@gmail.com
Table of Scenes
Also by N.J. Adel
Dedication
Based on True Events
PART ONE
PASSION
Scene 1
Maggie
Scene 2
Maggie
Scene 3
Mike
Scene 4
Mike
Scene 5
Mike
Scene 6
Maggie
Scene 7
Mike
Scene 8
Maggie
Scene 9
Maggie
Scene 10
Maggie
Scene 11
Mike
Scene 12
Mike
Scene 13
Maggie
Scene 14
Maggie
PART TWO
FEVER
Scene 15
Maggie
Scene 16
Mike
Scene 17
Maggie
Scene 18
Maggie
Scene 19
Mike
Scene 20
Mike
Scene 21
Maggie
Scene 22
Mike
Scene 23
Maggie
Scene 24
Maggie
Scene 25
Mike
Scene 26
Mike
Scene 27
Maggie
Scene 28
Maggie
Scene 29
Mike
Scene 30
Maggie
Scene 31
Mike
Scene 32
Maggie
Scene 33
Mike
Scene 34
Maggie
Scene 35
Maggie
Scene 36
Mike
Scene 37
Mike
Scene 38
Maggie
Scene 39
Maggie
Scene 40
Mike
Scene 41
Maggie
Scene 42
Maggie
Scene 43
Mike
Scene 44
Mike
Scene 45
Mike
Scene 46
Maggie
Scene 47
Maggie
Scene 48
Maggie
Scene 49
Maggie
Scene 50
Maggie
Scene 51
Mike
Scene 52
Maggie
Scene 53
Mike
PART THREE
HEROES AND VILLAINS
Scene 54
Maggie
Scene 55
Maggie
Scene 56
Mike
Scene 57
Maggie
Scene 58
Maggie
Scene 59
Maggie
Scene 60
Maggie
Scene 61
Mike
Scene 62
Mike
PART FOUR
EIGHT MONTHS OF PEACE
Scene 63
Maggie
Scene 64
Maggie
Scene 65
Maggie
Scene 66
Maggie
Scene 67
Maggie
Scene 68
Maggie
Scene 69
Maggie
Scene 70
Mike
Scene 71
Mike
Scene 72
Mike
Scene 73
Maggie
Scene 74
Mike
Scene 75
Maggie
Scene 76
Mike
Scene 77
Maggie
Scene 78
Mike
Scene 79
Mike
Scene 80
Mike
Scene 81
Maggie
Scene 82
Mike
Scene 83
Mike
Scene 84
Maggie
Scene 85
Maggie
Scene 86
Maggie
Scene 87
Mike
PART FIVE
HOME
Scene 88
Maggie
Scene 89
Maggie
Scene 90
Maggie
Scene 91
Maggie
Scene 92
Maggie
Scene 93
Maggie
Scene 94
Mike
Scene 95
Mike
Soundtrack
Also by N.J. Adel
Author Bio
Also by N.J. Adel
Steamy Forbidden Contemporary Romance
The Italian Heartthrob
Dirty Beats (Prequel Novella)
The Italian Heartthrob
Dark MC and Mafia Romance
I Hate You then I Love You Collection
Darkness Between Us
NINE MINUTE LATER
Nine Minutes Xtra
Nine Minutes Forever
Paranormal Reverse Harem Standalones
All the Teacher’s Pets
All the Teacher’s Pet Beasts
All the Teacher’s Bad Boys
All the Teacher’s Valentines (Sweeter than Chocolate Anthology Novella)
All the Teacher’s Prisoners
All the Teacher’s Little Belles
Reverse Harem Erotic Romance
Her Royal Harem Series
Her Royal Harem: Complete Box set
Fantasy Reverse Harem
Seratis the Goddess of Egypt
Seratis Daughter of the Sun
Seratis War of the Gods
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Dedication
To those who carry the scar on their faces or their bodies or their souls.
I’m one of you.
Allow yourself to be happy because you deserve it.
Based on True Events
PART ONE
PASSION
Scene 1
Maggie
My feet weighed a thousand pounds when I turned on Ocean Avenue and stopped at a white and blue, ten-story tower.
I’d never been a morning person. Everybody knew that. Dad knew that when he insisted I me
et him at eight a.m. at the penthouse.
An ambush awaited me inside. I had no doubt about it.
At least this time, I planned to get something in return from that dreadful meeting. But was anything in the world worth walking into this house again?
The doorman greeted me, bringing my thoughts to a temporary halt.
“Morning.” I took off my sunglasses, straining to pop my eyes wider. My boots echoed on the marble tiles as I ambled to the elevator. I slid my hand into the inside pocket of my jacket, pulled out a key card, waved it over the keypad, and ascended to the penthouse.
My breath shuddered in my chest when the elevator opened. I breathed out slowly and dragged myself out. Eyes on the prize, Maggie. Eyes on the prize.
I pecked her cheek. “Is she up?” I whispered, taking off my jacket.
Loretta made a funny face as she stowed the jacket away in the coat closet. “I’m afraid so.”
My shoulders slumped. “And Dad?”
“He’s waiting for you to join him for breakfast on the terrace.”
I stalked across the living room, heading toward the stellar view of the ocean, Dad smiling at me behind the floor-to-ceiling window.
“Maggie.” A firm voice rang behind me followed by the sound of heels clicking on the floor.
The ambush.
I froze for a second. Then, clenching my fists, I took a deep breath and spun around. “Andrea.”
It never got old calling my mother by her first name. If she wanted to be called Mom, she had to earn it. And Andrea had given up that right long ago.
Her long brown hair perfectly coiffed. Full makeup. Manicured hands. Bold red lipstick. A black pencil skirt and a red, silk blouse, accentuating her assets as always. My mother looked like a celebrity ready for a photo shoot before she even had breakfast.
“You cut your hair?” She eyed me from head to toe, her mouth turned down in disapproval. “And what are you wearing?”
Here we go. “What, you don’t like my outfit?” I adjusted the metallic belt against my little, black dress and smirked.
Andrea furrowed her thin eyebrows. “Someone with thighs like yours should not parade them like that. What size are you now? Fourteen?”
Ignore her. She’s not worth it. You promised yourself. “No. I’m still an eight. Same as the past five years.”
Dad stepped into the living room, holding a cup of coffee, a cautious smile on his lips. “Good morning, girls.”
I flung my shoulders around him, needing the safety of his embrace, careful not to spill the coffee, though. “Daddy.”
He kissed me on the cheek and handed me the cup, but I shook my head. “Thanks. I’m planning to go back to sleep.”
Andrea folded her arms across her chest. “Agreeing to show up here at eight in the morning means you want something really bad. What is it this time?”
I heaved a sigh, staring at her taunting, hazel eyes. “I don’t want anything from you, thank you very much. Dad asked to see me, so here I am.”
Andrea chuckled and smoothed her skirt as she sat on the couch. “So you ran out of money, and now you need Daddy’s help. What do you need the money for? Another one of your aesthetic projects?”
“When have I ever…” I bit the inside of my cheek, switching my gaze toward Dad. “You know what? I’ll wait for you downstairs. We can talk on the way to your office.”
“No, Maggie, wait.” He placed the cup on the glass coffee table, glaring at Andrea. “I’m sure your mother doesn’t mean anything. She hasn’t seen you in a year and is just…interested in knowing what you’re up to these days.”
My glance fell on the hardwood floor. “Yeah, right.”
He lifted my chin with his finger and smiled. “Don’t pout. I’ll grab my things, and we’ll head to the office. Won’t be long.”
Andrea grabbed a gossip magazine from the stack on the coffee table and hid her face behind the glossy paper, while Dad climbed the stairs.
On the cover, there was a bare-chested picture of Mike Gennaro, and my mind went blank. The taupe brown curls of his hair flowed down to his naked shoulders. His dark brown eyes held a mischievous gaze. A scruffy jaw complemented his strong cheekbones and sculpted lips.
Heat spread under my skin as I traced down the lines of hairless, chiseled chest and killer abs. The thirty-three-year-old actor was a wet dream waiting to happen.
Happened.
So many times.
My eyes landed on the title under the picture.
The Italian Heartthrob back in L.A.
My heart raced despite me and all the promises I’d been making to myself. I mused back at my half-naked best friend, my thumb brushing against my smiling lips.
“He’s too old for you,” Andrea said. “Nine years too old to be exact.”
Eight years and nine months. I cleared my throat. “Who?”
Andrea’s head popped from behind the magazine. “Really?”
My head jerked in the other direction. “I already have a boyfriend. Mike is my friend.”
“No, he isn’t. He’s my friend, and my client. That makes him an acquaintance to you. Don’t mistake him for anything else.”
Scene 2
Maggie
“How did you get here today?” Dad asked as I slid into the backseat of his Jaguar.
“The bus.”
“Nick Dawson’s only daughter is taking the bus?”
I smiled. “Well, I couldn’t afford the gas money for the Lexus you wanted to buy me for my last birthday. And when you make four grand a year, bus is your only option.”
“Why are you doing this to yourself? You used to make more than thirty thousand a month when you worked with me.”
“Dad, you of all people know it’s never about money with me. It’s about—”
“Passion,” he interrupted. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that speech so many times before. I never want to hear it again.”
The direction of the conversation was taking a wrong turn, but I swallowed my resentment in light of more pressing issues. “Speaking of passion, I’m gonna make a movie.”
Dad’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “What?”
“I co-wrote a script for a short film with a friend of mine, and I’m gonna direct it.”
“Um… I’m not sure I understand. I thought you quit working with me because you wanted to write…books.”
“Yeah. I…thought so, too.” A sigh escaped my mouth. “But I wanna try directing now.”
He nodded, his brows pulling together. “Have you directed anything before, Mags?”
I stared at him for a moment and shook my head. “I did an internship and helped a few friends who go to film school with their projects. They loved my work.”
“I don’t think that’s enough.”
“I know. That’s why I’m making this movie. I wanna show the world what I can do. It’s like when actors have showcases.” I clenched my teeth. “Only a little more expensive.”
“How expensive?”
I bit my fingernail. “Ten grand?”
His lashes fluttered. “What?”
I held up a hand. “I know it’s a bit much.”
“A bit?”
“Okay, it’s a lot,” I admitted. “But not to you. Like you said, it’s only one third of what you used to pay me a month.”
“If you want to make movies, why don’t you ask your mother to help you? She can network you—”
“Please don’t ever say that again.” A surge of anger ran through me. Years and years of awful pain came rushing in. Andrea and I had issues beyond repair. They didn’t only start right before the year I finally left. They weren’t just about her constant criticism or never liking anything I did either. It was… “You know I’d die before I’d ask her for help.”
He set his j
aw, his eyes sad.
“Dad, I know it’s a lot to ask for since I don’t make you money anymore, but consider it a loan. An investment. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”
“With what? The revenues of your blockbuster?”
“Please don’t make fun of me. I just told you it’s a showcase. There’s no money there.”
He combed his fingers through his gray hair. “How about you come work with me again, just for a few weeks?”
I squinted at him as if he’d asked me to sell my soul to the devil. “You want me to design rich people’s houses again?”
“Well, you have the degree for it.” He smiled. “And the talent.”
“And I hated every minute of it. Dad…I thought you supported my decision to quit.”
“I did. I just hate to see you waste another year doing something you’ll eventually get bored with…again.”
Ouch. I expected that attitude from Andrea, but coming from him hurt like a slap on the face. “Not everyone is so lucky to figure out what they want the first time. Some of us have to try again and again and again, and just hope they’ll finally find it.”
“I don’t know why you keep saying that when it’s just right in front of you. C’mon, Mags. Just come help with a project or two. Maybe your passion for architecture will be renewed. Consider it a mutual investment.”
More like a trap.
I was wrong. I thought the meeting at the house was another attempt to make me see Andrea and work things out with her. But no. This was the ambush.
“This whole thing isn’t about Andrea or the money or my choice of career. You just want to lure me back into your company,” I said.
“Is it so wrong that I want my daughter to carry my legacy? Especially when she’s so good at it? You’re made for this, baby.”
I nodded. “You don’t think I’m gonna make it in the movie business…or any other business apart from yours.”
“We both know it doesn’t matter what I think, baby. Only what you think matters.”
I gazed at him, pursing my lips. I’d been working day and night to support myself after I quit being an architect, while trying to pursue a career as an author. Not once had I asked for money even when things got rough, and God knew how many times I’d been broke since.
Even when he offered, I’d never caved.
Now, the only reason I asked him for help and not anyone else was that I thought he believed in me. I thought he understood quitting a stable, lucrative job to pursue my dreams was courage, not recklessness or insanity. It turned out he was only indulging his spoiled baby girl’s whims until she came back to her senses.