The Most Beautiful Night

By Lorena Fuentes

Fleeing from the myth that her country is the cradle of the most beautiful women, Alejandra arrives in Milan to change her life, and in the city of fashion she becomes, ironically, a famous large-size model. However, although her name was quoted in exorbitant amounts, she cannot be happy.

Andrea is a successful businessman who is determined to leave behind a lifetime of trivialities and fill the void that makes him feel empty.

He represented everything Alejandra hates, but he is also what she wants most.

She is the opposite of what Andrea is used to, but at the same time, the only thing she needs.

Milan's most beautiful night will seal their destiny and their lives will change forever.

Together they will travel through Hell, Purgatory and Heaven, while love will be the guide for  their tormented souls.

Lorena Fuentes brings us a novel full of romance and drama, in which the healing power of love and the value of forgiveness are appreciated.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lorena Fuentes
• Release date: Mar 31, 2021
• ISBN: 9781071507636

Book preview

-1-

"I hate you, Martha," I mumble what I feel as I get into her car.

I only hear her mocking laugh as she starts the beautiful red Ferrari she owns. I can't believe I was convinced to go to Andrea Pacci's party, I hate that kind of parties and everything that it means.

Grow up, Alessandra, she tells me as she turns on the car's sound system.

Kill for you, by Shylar Grey with Eminem, sounds at full volume, and I know she's doing it to annoy me so I can't answer. My best friend can be quite clear when she wants to prove her point of view. Yes, I'm behaving a little immature for this celebration, but there's something that tells me that nothing good will happen.

This new contract will add some money to my bank account and I won't mind withdrawing once and for all from this world. I can't believe I'm dedicating myself to do what I hate.

This circle of models, designers, magazine owners, and brands can become a very empty world. I'm bored with glam, lights, and flashes. She knows. I think that's why I've been successful because I stay away from all excesses and vices.

I gaze through the car window and see how the lights of the streetlights blur. I know that all my discomfort is caused due to the invitation letter for Miss Venezuela. It's not that I don't want to go back to the land where I was born, the thing is that there I left many things unsolved, and that damn beauty contest... I hate it! I hate it because it made me think that being fat was a capital sin.

Marta decides to turn down the volume and I turn my face to look at her for the first time along the way.

Ale, I know you're upset, but you can't hide. You must go to the party, I'm going to refute her but she won't let me. Hey, wait, I'm not finished!

Marta!

Alejandra, she calls me, and I know she's upset. You're the image of the Pacci Vineyard campaign, I don't understand what's going on in your head right now, but this is big and you know what it means, right?

She looks at me for a few seconds and turns her attention to the road. Of course, I know, and it's my turn to accept that she's right.

Tu sei una stronzo, I insult her in Italian, I tell her she's a piece of shit.

Cute, isn't it?

I love you too, Alessandra, she replies with a smile.

We started laughing and I relax a bit until we reach a rather old and ostentatious villa in Milan, it was located in the hood where the richest people in the city live.

The lights all over the house are on and it looks like we are in an amusement park. We get off and the waiters receive us, the music of the fifties penetrates the walls and floods the space out the house.

Marta gets to where I'm standing, I feel a little uncomfortable because I'm also very shy.

Ready? She asks me with a smile.

I answer negatively and she laughs. She pulls me to walk, we go up the stairs that lead to the entrance and I almost face the floor when the length of the dress got tangled up. However, some male hands stop my fall and I mentally thank my guardian angels for putting this man in my way.

I lift my face and I found myself breathless as I realize that he is the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my entire life, the one who seems destined to reach me and hold me in his arms every time I stumble.

Are you all right? He asks.

I nod, I'm speechless, because it's him, my boss and the most beautiful man on earth: Andrea Pacci.

Marta takes me by the elbow and beckons me to say something, and I realize that I'm making a fool of myself.

Yes, thank you... I whisper blushing.

He nods, lets me go and stares at me for a few seconds, and those almost olive-colored eyes make me feel lost in space and time. He takes out a pack of cigarettes and lights one. His thick beard seems to come to life when he opens his mouth.

Enjoy the party, ragazze girls, he says and runs down the stairs.

I'm stunned to find out that the host of the party is leaving all his guests lying around when he gets into a black convertible from the fifties.

Marta looks at me as shocked as I do to her, I raise my shoulders as a sign that I don't know what just happened.

I don't think we have anything to do in that place, I say hoping that we won't go in.

You're wrong because I want to drink champagne, the expensive one, and not the cheap wine you're sure to have at home, she says.  Let's go.

She pulls my arm forcing me to come in. Everyone present is aware of our arrival, and Andrea Pacci's partner runs to where we are to receive us with all the greetings they can give us.

Signorina miss Alessandra, Francesco Cavani takes my hand and kisses it.

Signore mister Cavani... I answer by removing my hand.

Marta watches me amused while I flee from the dirty old man. He offers me his arm and I look at him as if he was contagious with some disgusting disease. I'd rather be seen as arrogant than going for the arm of this guy who can smell from miles that he wants to fuck me. When he realized my contempt, he recomposed himself.

Welcome, signorine ladies. I am very sorry that my associate, Mr. Pacci, is not here to receive you.

My friend and I share a gaze and nod. I get over everything I feel; I forget my frustrations and turn on the work button to put on my diva mask.

Thank you, I reply and add so that my two companions hear well: I will only be there for an hour because I need to rest.

I walk into the Pacci's house and admire how beautiful it is. Its white marble floors highlight the ancient details that can be found in every corner. I greet those present and have some conversations, I laugh at meaningless jokes and I remember how unhappy I feel.

I am empty.

I try to run away from everything around me and escape through a sliding door leading to a beautiful garden. I lose my gaze in the infinity of the land, behind the house there is a forest. If I could paint it, it would be like those paintings where we see the starry sky, the moon is so big that it seems unreal and the trees are shadows painted in black.

I hear some footsteps and through the stairs that go up from the garden, he comes with a lit cigarette between his lips. He watches me for a few seconds and takes his hand to his mouth to take the cigarette, throws it out and goes up.

This night is too beautiful to enjoy it alone, he says, and his deep voice paralyzes me.

I'm in trouble.

-2-

Andrea Pacci is one of the most important men in Milanese society, his family is one of the most influential. I think I once read that his grandfather was a mayor or something. You may think I’m lying, but my obsession with this man comes from years ago. We'd have to go back about three years to one of these parties, where I first saw him, but, of course, he didn't even notice me.

How could he, if he was accompanied by one of the models of the moment?

At that time, I was a stranger and I was on Giovanni's arm, who had invited me so that I wouldn't stay bored at home. The campaign that would change my life was about to go out and nobody knew my name, so I passed unnoticed by everyone.

Things about life. That night the same thing happened and I became entangled with the length of my dress and some male hands prevented my fall. And no, it wasn't my companion's hands, it was the same hands that stopped me just like it happened a few minutes ago.

He wasn't going out so he stayed at that party, I chased him with surprised eyes, because the beauty of that man was unparalleled: 6. 3 ft tall, about eighty kilograms of a body without an apex of body fat, an abundant beard, straight hair carelessly combed and those green eyes which became my torment for years.

That's why, when Marta (now my manager) informed me that Andrea Pacci himself had asked me to be the model of his campaign, I couldn't believe it. That was my guilty secret, so to speak, I had infatuated myself with the man who would never pay attention to me and here I am now, sharing my escape with him.

I take a deep breath when I hear his deep voice and I sketch a rather nervous smile because I don't know what to say and of course, I say the first thing that comes to mind:

Thank you.

Andrea is staring at me quite strangely and I love how he looks when he frowned because his thick eyebrows seem to join together.

for catching me a few minutes ago, I gracefully clarify.

He seems to realize that I am the same girl he caught in his escape because he smiles, and I, ladies and gentlemen, want to engrave that smile forever in my memory.

It's nothing, bambina.

I love that he calls me girl, but it seems strange to me cause he`s only five years older. He approaches the railing and stands right next to me, her musky perfume combined with the smell of cigarettes reaches my nose, and makes me want to stick to his neck and inhale his scent like an addict.

You are right, it's a nice night, I say.

Alessandra Offi, he says my name with surprise.  I didn't realize it was you, I'm sorry.

His apologies take me by surprise and I turn my face a little to look at him. He takes a puff at his cigarette, holds the smoke for a few seconds and ejects it.

Don't you worry.

You must think I'm a terrible host, but the truth is that I can't stand this world anymore.

I can't get out of my astonishment; however, I now focus my attention on the man next to me and I detail his profile meticulously. He remains to be the handsome and mysterious man that stole my heart the first time I saw him. Of course, the time has passed and that man in his thirties, Christ's age, and I know from the press that he is no longer a regular at parties.

We both.

He watches me happy and I love the little wrinkles that form around his eyes.

Are you running from the feast I'm giving in your honor? he asked delightedly.

I smile because it can't be such a coincidence. God! This seems unreal.

I think you are doing the same.

We laughed and looked back at the infinite mantle of stars. I can't believe I'm talking to him, being just with him, doing the same thing, thinking the same stuff, not even in the innermost of my dreams did I imagine something like that.

Do you smoke? He asks me, offering me a cigarette.

No, thank you.

Do you mind if I do?

No.

He lights it and suddenly a light breeze passes by, making me shudder a little; I hug myself and rub my arms with my hands. He notices it and takes off his tuxedo jacket and puts it on my shoulders.

It's a pity that I have to cover those beautiful shoulders for you, he says to me without showing any emotion and I blush, but I try to hide it because I don't want him to realize the effect he has on me.

Andrea smokes his cigarette silently as I watch him detailing every gesture he makes. We are both fleeing from the empty world that surrounds us and in which we are forced to live. I have the impression that everything I thought was in his mind too; he was cracking. Perhaps at some point, he was as I imagined him, but he seems that he has grown tired of the superfluous life he led.

You know, you're much more beautiful in person than in photos, he says, throwing his cigarette butt on the ground.  You'll look beautiful in my vineyard.

And again, I'm flushed, I must look like a tomato.

Grazie thank you, signore Pacci.

He smiles so perfectly that he looks like a toothpaste model. This man is a mystery.

Please call me Andrea.

I prefer to keep my distance.

Please, il signore Pacci was my father. I'm just Andrea.

Okay, I'll call you Andrea.

I think you must be surprised by all this dish to celebrate that you are the model of the new wine I will release. And, to be honest, I'm running away from the party because I'm drowning in so much hypocrisy.

I'm also escaping.

Alessandra... He calls me with his deep voice, and I die because listening to him makes me tingle. If I were chatting in WhatsApp, I would respond with the little monkey who covers his face with his hands.

Yes?

Would you run away with me tonight? He asks me.

I observe him for a few seconds, I realize that I have my purse and only my coat is missing. However, I'm wearing Andrea's jacket and I don't need him to insist.

Yes, only I should let my manager know.

He smiles and takes my hand; walks pulling me and says:

You'll have time on the way, ragazza.

When I get to the stairs, he lifts me up in his arms and I scream a little, resisting. He lets out a deep laugh that makes all the cells of my body vibrate.

To prevent you from falling, principessa princes, he says in a mocking tone and takes me to the car in his arms.

I start to get nervous; I think that I’m going to collapse of excitement I also think that I'm in one of those crazy dreams and I don't want to wake up. He sits me in a pretty old convertible BMW and adjusts my seat belt. Then he sits next to me and, with a snapping smile, he says:

Preparatevi per la notte più bella di Milano, principessa.

For those who don't understand Italian, he just told me to prepare myself for the most beautiful night in Milan. He starts his car at full speed and I bite my lip because I know I'll never forget that night.

-3-

The speakers play a song I don't know and I think it's pretty old, but he hums it as if he knew it by heart. I understand perfectly what it says and I love the lyrics.

Who are they? I ask.

The Temptations.

Do you like old?

I think that in my past life I had to live in the fifties and sixties, answers Andrea and begins to sing My Girl. His baritone voice, and the way he smiles as he sings makes me fall in love.

We take a road full of trees and the summer breeze makes my curls fly; I'm living a dream and I think I'll never forget this night. I take out my cellphone and write a text message to Marta, using the excuse that I couldn't stand to be in there anymore.

I'm sorry, I called a taxi and went home. I love you, Ale.

Somewhere on the road, it detours and we get close to the cathedral. He parks the car, gets out and surrounds it to help me get out of it. He takes me with him to one of the side doors of the church and knocks twice. A guard opens and he only greets him. When we took the path where the elevator is located to go up to the terrace, I remember that this was one of the first things I did when I arrived in Lombardy.

We entered the elevator car and I silly chuckled; I still can't believe I'm sharing a special moment with him.

You have to take off those beautiful stilettos, ragazza.

I can't walk barefoot, I answer, scared.

Today you are free to be yourself.

Those are the keywords to convince me to do this new madness. I try to take one off, but he ducks and takes my right foot.

Let me... He says and I nod.

He slowly takes off my shoe and caresses my toes; then he does the same with my other foot, but this time his hands slip a little higher until he caresses where my garters are. I feel like Cinderella, only instead of putting on my shoe, he takes it off.

Merda... shit...  he whispers.

I withdraw my leg a little confused by its expression because I'm sure he hates that I have fat legs.

Come on, Alejandra, you know you've been through this. You don't have a perfect body and you have to accept it.

We got out of the elevator and opened the door to walk through the roof of the cathedral. From there we can appreciate a beautiful view of the city.

Benvenuta nella mia città Welcome to my city, he tells me opening his arms and showing me the city. I have to accept that the view at night is breathtaking.

Grazie.

Alessandra, thank you for sharing this moment with me.

I smile, but I'm still uncomfortable about what happened in the elevator and I don't know what to expect tonight. I feel a little out of place.

Is something wrong? He asks me when he realizes my behavior.

I refuse and approach where he stands, however, I do not risk going any further because I have a small phobia of heights. I notice that I'm sweating cold