Read Lonzo: Book 2 (Tycoon Series Book 2) for Free Online Page A

didn’t deny what happened. She just kept the details to a bare minimum. Yes, they had an affair and it didn’t work out. End of story. Less talk. Less mistakes. Less lies.
    That flight from Rome to NYC was a blur. She can’t recall anything. Except the pain. Every freaking cell inside her hurt.
    She’d been through a lot in her life, but nothing could top that.
    Love can drive one crazy.
    For a long time she couldn’t comprehend what happened to her father. Her earliest memories of him, he was a warm, loving person who loved to laugh and put his little girl over his shoulders. He changed into a bitter, abusive alcoholic when his mother left him for another man. He transformed into the nasty demon who hit her during his frequent alcoholic rages, the stranger who sold her to the white traffickers to be abused and used as a child prostitute. If not for the timely rescue…
    She shuddered at the memory.
    She wouldn’t go far as excuse her father’s actions. No sane person would do that to a child, let alone his very own. But now she understood. In his father’s mind, she was a constant reminder of her mother’s betrayal.
    Love made him do the things he did. Love made her father weak. Love can be extreme.
    But she was made of stronger stuff than her father. She had made opportunities out of mistakes. Now was no exception. She would not self-destruct. She would not let a bad man ruin her for the rest of her life. Lonzo Vitale would be a grim reminder to herself.
    It would be a long, hard road to recovery but eventually she would get there. She vowed to.
    One day this stupid love she felt for him would wither and die. God willing.
     
     
    “Mr. Vitale! Mr. Vitale! Look this way!” one of the damned shutterbugs shouted as he and his date for the night was about to enter the Kodak Theater in Los Angeles for an AIDS charity benefit.
    He was almost blinded by the flashbulbs. Paparazzi were truly sub-human, camera-totting species.
    Fuck. How he hated this city and its artificial vibe! For the fifth time, he questioned his decision to come here. Why did he allow himself to be manipulated by the woman clinging on his arm to attend this paparazzi fiesta?
    What the fuck am I doing here?
    He flew here for business and got delayed because the deal hit a few snags. No thanks to those crafty television executives. But he pushed for more leverage and Vitale Internacionale’s media arm got the exclusive syndication rights to several high-rating programs, including the airing of next year’s Emmys and Oscars.
    He was about to get out of Tinseltown after the agreements were inked, but when he entered his hotel suite, he found he had company. The female kind.
    Helene Harwood was the current toast of Tinseltown, having won an Oscar for best-supporting actress after she played the role of Eva Braun, Hitler’s mistress, in a film adaptation.
    He got introduced to her a few days ago. She took one look at him and decided she must have him.
    She was classically beautiful, intelligent and came from a prominent New England family that had ties to American politics. Definitely WASP. He almost asked how the hell she got in when he remembered that her family owned this exclusive hotel.
    “Lonzo,” she said as she stretched her almost-naked body on his bed.
    He was used to women like her. Her predatory streak should’ve amused him months ago. Now it only irritated the hell out of him. He wasn’t even tempted to jump her.
    “Helene. Don’t you think it’s rather too early for bed?” he said mildly.
    Helene pouted. “You don’t want to play?”
    He almost snorted. Playing was at the bottom of his list. It was all because of—
    Don’t even go there, he’d warned himself.
    “Okay. I’m sorry for barging here, darling. Can’t blame a girl for trying,” she said, putting on her silky negligee.
    He didn’t reply but gave her a small smile. He went to pour himself a scotch.
    “Since you’re not in the mood for loveplay…I was