Billionaire Triplets Matchmakers Read online

  He was a man of few words, which was fine with Joan.

  When she got back to the house, no one was awake. The babies were asleep.

  Lissa was no longer in her room, and she assumed, her sister had gone back to Julio, or perhaps had decided to go sleep in another room.

  She crawled under the covers and lay there for a long time, crying.

  Finally, she fell into a restless sleep.

  Chapter Sixteen

  THE WEDDING TURNED out to be a wonderful affair, and Joan forced herself to not think about Antonio as she watched her sister and Julio become officially wed.

  The media had come out in force and the speculation about Antonio Ferraro was rampant, especially in the tabloids. The Viscount had canceled his plans to attend the wedding, citing security concerns, but that didn’t over shadow the beautiful ceremony.

  It wasn’t until after Lissa and Julio had driven off to the shouts and congratulations of everyone present, that it occurred to Joan that Raul and his unwanted guests had never shown up.

  “Abby?” she called out as she saw Lissa’s assistant walking by.

  Abby came over, and

  Joan lowered her voice. “What ever happened to you-know-who?”

  Abby raised an eyebrow as if she too had completely forgotten about Willa and Tina.

  “I don’t know.”

  Joan wanted to call Raul and ask him why he didn’t show up, but she didn’t have his number and her cell phone was inside Antonio’s car, wherever it was.

  She figured that Julio knew, but he was long gone and wouldn’t be back for two weeks. She put it out of her mind.

  After the wedding the press, relatives, and the caterers all left, leaving Joan, Mamacita, Annabelle and the new nanny back in charge. The next day, Abby called from Milan with news that she’d found a new apartment in Milan that she swore to have all set up for Lissa and Julio’s return in just two weeks.

  Joan tried not to think about Antonio over the next days, as she went about her job caring for the boys in their beautiful country home. But, when the boys were asleep, or when she laid in bed at night staring at the ceiling, she’d think of him Antonio and worry about him.

  He never explained why men with guns were trying to kill him, but she had thought it had something to do with his gambling.

  Despite their parents being away and a few indications of fussiness, the boys seemed to enjoy their country home and it was clear they were beginning to warm up to the new nanny.

  Joan had managed to take her sister aside before she left on her honeymoon and she told her that she wanted to quit.

  “Will you go back to New York?” Lissa had asked.

  “I don’t know. Depends,” Joan confessed. She wasn’t sure now what she would do. She wanted to be there for Antonio if he ever came back. If he didn’t, then yes, she’d probably return to New York.

  With the Viscount absent from the wedding, Annabelle Edwards turned out to be the belle of the wedding, only a notch below her eldest daughter. The media invited to report on the event heard about her documentary and followed around the film crew as they got more footage for her story.

  Joan had wondered if her mother would bring the wealthy detective in from Barcelona as her plus one, but, she’d been uncharacteristically single at the event.

  Two days later she announced that she was going back to New York for a bit, and that the film crew would be coming along since there was another interesting story brewing on the other side of the pond.

  She wouldn’t explain what she was talking about, but Joan meant it when she hugged her and said her goodbyes.

  “I’m glad you’re not dead, mother,” she said.

  “Me too,” Annabelle Edwards said with a laugh.

  Two days later - five days after the wedding and six days after she’d last seen Antonio - Joan got a call from her mother in New York. Annabelle was in exceptionally good spirits.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before, darling, but my attorneys refused to let me talk about it until they knew for sure.”

  “Knew what, mom?”

  “That there is proof I married the billionaire, on his yacht, before he died. Which of course makes me his primary beneficiary.”

  Joan groaned. Here we go again.

  “That’s great mom,” she said, unenthusiastically. “But, doesn’t the guy have kids? Aren’t they going to fight you?”

  Joan’s mother spent several minutes excitedly laying out the strategy her lawyers intended to employ. “It’s in the bag, darling. They found the marriage license with signatures of witnesses, and the copy of the video with time stamps and everything. There’s no way they can contest it.”

  “But, mom, do you think it’s fair? I mean, how many days were you married before the ship went down? His kids have been his kids all their life”

  “Whose side are you on?”

  “Yours of course, but even if they don’t have a case they’re never going to let it go.”

  “I agree darling, which is why I’ve instructed my attorneys to do the Annabelle sweet talk move on them.”

  The strategy had worked in the past. Annabelle’s attorneys made an offer providing a sizable chunk of the whole, but only after convincing them that she could keep it all if she wanted to fight it. In the end, the heirs always took the carrot rather than contending with her stick. But, Joan didn’t care.

  “Good mom,” Joan said

  She’d fallen into a depression. Six days now and no news from Antonio, no calls from Julio or his minions. The tabloids, however, were going wild with speculation about what might have happened to the man she had fallen back in love with. Some speculated that he’d been involved in the assassination attempt, but of course Joan knew that wasn’t the case. There had been no assassination attempt. Others speculated that he’d been killed by the same bad guys which had come after the Viscount. That rumor was harder for her to put aside. What if they had tracked him down?

  It was day seven when Mamacita called from the kitchen saying that Julio and Lissa were on the phone. Joan almost died from relief. Finally, she’d find out if Antonio was okay.

  First, she had to listen as Mamacita talked to Lissa and Lissa quizzed her about everything to do with the boys.

  Finally, Joan had a chance to speak to Julio in private.

  “He’s okay,” he said before she had a chance to ask. Joan thought her heart would explode with relief as she wiped away a gush of moisture from her eyes.

  “Where is he?” she asked.

  “I can’t tell you. But, I think you should just forget about him. He’s... he’s facing some serious troubles.”

  “I can’t,” Joan admitted, “I love him, Julio.”

  “I understand, Joan, and I’m sorry about everything,” he said in a low voice. “Hey, Lissa, you want to talk to your sister?” He asked, his voice going up a notch.

  Lissa thanked her again for everything and reminded her that she was okay with her quitting after they got back. Then the call was over.

  Joan fell deeper into her depression, staying in bed while the new nanny and Mamacita picked up the slack.

  Eight days after Antonio yanked himself out of her life again, Joan got another shock.

  She’d been lying in bed feeling sorry for herself and refusing meals when one of the staff knocked on her door with a tray of food.

  “Por favor, señorita, just try to eat.”

  Joan smiled and let the woman set the tray next to her bed. She wasn’t hungry, but she was thirsty. There was a newspaper folded up on the side of the tray and she flipped it open as she sipped the Valencia orange juice. Immediately she almost spit it out again.

  There was a picture of the Torres Vilafranca house on the cover - the same shot that had been shown many times, with the yellow crime tape and the police cars - but it was the headline of the English language newspaper that got her attention. ’Dante Bissacco Arrested for attempted assassination of Viscount de la Vega.’

&nbs
p; Antonio had told her as they went to the airport in Rues that there was a very bad man that he believed wanted him dead. She’d insisted on knowing his name, and he’d reluctantly told her; Dante Bissacco. That was the last time she’d heard that name. If the man that wanted him dead was in custody....

  She was suddenly starving. She scarfed down the eggs and fruit, poured herself more coffee and she read the entire article. She read it again.

  Her heart raced as she sat up straight and read it out loud, as if that would make the words more real.

  “Dante Bissacco was taken into custody by Spanish police when he came to pick up the remains of his employee, Carlo Minnetti who was shot and killed while attacking an unknown guest at a Vilafranca home where the Viscount of Iberia, Ferdinand de la Vega was staying.”

  She gasped for breath, and stopped reading out loud, but read it again to herself.

  Under the Anti-Terrorism Act, the Italian mobster was charged with endangering a member of the Spanish Royal family. In an arrangement with Italian authorities, Dante Bissacco is expected to plead guilty to a lesser charge in exchange for a reduced prison sentence. He’s admitted to police that Carlo Minnetti was hired by him, but denied any intention to harm the Viscount. He claims his man was sent to collect a debt from the AC Milan soccer star Antonio Ferraro, who was last seen getting out of a cab at the Julio Torres country home a day before the shooting.

  Julio Torres, who owns the house, was unavailable for comment.

  Staffers denied any knowledge of Antonio Ferraro’s presence.

  One staff member, who spoke on the condition of anonymity, stated her opinion. “I think the guy was after the Viscount. He went to the guest house, after all, which is where most guests would stay.”

  As the days since his disappearance increase, many Italian soccer fans are now wondering if Dante Bissacco found Antonio Ferraro and did away with him. Outside Antonio’s home, hundreds of fans have started a vigil - leaving flowers and lighting candles, praying for his safe return.

  The general manager of AC Milan said in a press release that they are very concerned about their star player, especially since his leave of absence was over and he hadn’t shown up to practices, which began on Monday. “If you are out there, Antonio, please get it touch.”

  Joan folded the paper, relieved to know that Antonio’s enemy was in custody. Would Antonio come back? “Antonio, wherever you are, please come back,” she said to her ceiling, while her eyes were closed tight in a fervent prayer.

  She got up, showered, then went downstairs.

  “You’re feeling better?” Susan asked.

  “Yes, much. I’m sorry I’ve been ill. Why don’t you take a long break?”

  “I would, but I don’t want to miss it. I’d love to go and get my cell phone, though. I think they are about to walk.”

  Joan followed the nanny’s gaze and was delighted to see Ryland and Marco both trying to stand as they held onto the wall.

  “Oh my goodness! Go get your phone, I still don’t have one and Lissa would kill me if we didn’t capture this moment.”

  The new nanny bolted upstairs, but it was a false alarm, and neither Marco or Ryland made another attempt to walk that day.

  To Joan’s relief, none of the triplets tried to say their first words while their parents were gone. Just in case, Joan made a point of singing the Mama Papa lullaby she made up whenever she was in charge of putting them to sleep. She hoped their first words wouldn’t be Auntie Joan.

  Miss Susan also had the cameras prepped for first words, should they come while Lissa and Julio were away. It was day eight of their honeymoon with only six days left to go, so Joan kept her finger’s crossed that the boys would not reach any of those milestones while they were gone.

  She was taking a nap, trying not to think about Antonio, when one of the household staffers knocked on her door.

  “There’s someone to see you,” she said.

  Joan got up, her heart thumping. She hoped that this someone was Antonio, but when she opened the door she was surprised to see Raul, the man who’d failed to show up at the wedding. The man who’d invited the two people that Lissa and Julio would not want to see.

  Her face went rigid. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice steel.

  “I wanted to explain, why I didn’t make the wedding,” he said. He looked so sad and apologetic that her anger softened, and she led him to the kitchen. She was glad Mamacita had taken the day off to go back to Barcelona, but she was also glad that Susan and several staffers, including Ruiz the security man, were close by if she needed their help.

  “Remember those two people I asked you to invite?” he began.

  “Yes,” Joan said coldly.

  “Well, I went to the airport to pick them up, where Tom told me to get them-”

  “Tom? Tom who?”

  “Tom Akers. He’s the guy that told me about the contract for the commercial project. He told me to ask you for the invitation to the wedding and that I needed to get in contact with your brother in law,” he said innocently.

  “Okay, let me get this straight. Tom Akers asked you to get Tina Peters and Will Gruebers into the wedding. Did he say why?”

  “Like I said, he said they wanted to go and they were important people so it would be good for our business, but that’s not what happened.”

  “Fine,” Joan said, pulling in her questions as she sat back. “So, what did happen?”

  “Well,” he said, his eyes growing wide with excitement. “Like I said, I went to get them at the airport. I was holding a sign with their names and they’d started towards me, one of them yelling at me that she was Tina Peters. But, just before they got to me, armed men pulled them aside, a ton of them. They raised a scene and then that Willa woman started pointing to me. I dropped the sign and bolted, and for some reason, no one chased me.”

  Joan stared at him.

  “So, where have you been all this time? Why didn’t you come here and tell me this before now?”

  “I would have, but I didn’t make it to my car.”

  “They arrested you?”

  “No!”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I got brave.”

  “You what?”

  “I decided to go back inside and turn myself in.”

  “But, you didn’t do anything.”

  “I know, which is why I think I wasn’t afraid to do it.”

  Joan was getting a bit of a headache. Raul was truly not the sharpest toothpick in the box.

  “It wasn’t easy, I had to convince the security people that I was sent to pick up the women that got arrested and that they should question me. Eventually, when I mentioned their names, they finally took me back.”

  “So, you were arrested?”

  “Nope, detained. Under anti-terrorism laws.”

  “Wow,” Joan said.

  “They eventually let me out, but only after they got me to agree to do a sting.”

  “Wait a minute, go back. Are you saying that they were questioning Willa and Tina for terrorism?”

  “Yep. Apparently, they’d been tracking the two women and when they went through security they identified a device in Willa’s luggage which they thought was suspicious, but wasn’t caught during the initial screening.”

  “Huh?”

  “Yeah, they have the x-ray machines, and some of them actually record the images. The first line security guard didn’t stop her, but after she’d boarded the plane in London a second inspector saw the object and flagged it. As soon as her luggage was opened they found what they’d suspected.”

  “A bomb?” Joan asked, not believing that Willa or Tina would do something that stupid.

  “No, not a bomb, but some illegal hacking device with a special shape.”

  Joan shook her head as if trying to shake away the cobwebs. None of this was making any sense.

  Raul continued. “So, the two women apparently denied having any knowledge that this communicati
ons device was illegal or meant for ill purpose. They both confessed, right in front of me, that Tom Akers sent them to disrupt a competitor’s business and it had nothing to do with infiltrating the Royal Family. It took a while, but they finally convinced them. They also insisted that I had nothing to do with anything, other than being, their patsy... whatever that means.”

  Joan smiled at the naive man before her. He wasn’t a bad guy.

  “So, where are they now?”

  “Deported.”

  Joan felt herself warm towards this man, the bearer of such good news. Knowing that Tina Peters, her sister’s former right-hand employee and the biggest traitor she’d ever known, had been thrown out of Europe forever – that was almost as good as a bitch slap. Willa was a different story.

  She had to ask, not that Raul would be able to explain.

  “Willa is German, where was she deported to?”

  “Oh no, not German. She’s from Czechoslovakia., she was using a fake passport, working for the Russians. They kicked her out on espionage charges.”

  That didn’t make sense. How could a woman who’d worked for Julio all those years be a spy?

  She stopped trying to figure it out.

  “Well, I’m glad they let you go, Raul, and I want to thank you for telling me,” she said.

  Raul smiled and gave her a hug. “I hope you have a wonderful life, Joan.”

  She walked him to his car and waved him away, her belief in the goodness of most people restored.

  After he left, she called Abby and brought her up to speed.

  Abby agreed that the spying angle and Julio Torres didn’t make sense.

  “Maybe they were trying to get to the Viscount and gain access to the Spanish government.”

  “Maybe so. My brain hurts just thinking about all this. So, how’s the apartment coming?”

  “Great. Ready to go the minute they come back. Are you still thinking of quitting?”

  “I am.”

  “That’s too bad, Joan. We’re all going to miss you. Where are you going to go?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Abby said, “Hey, did you hear the good news?”