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ANs: Just to ensure that there's no confusion: Bella is Buffy. Buffy is Bella. This chapter was inspired by Brendan Benson's song "Flesh and Bone" and Ben Lee's "Ache For You." Chapter One 'No Greater Treasure' Metropolis, Luthor Towers Friday night, Present Day Invariably, Lex found himself at yet another dull as dirt, colorless charity cocktail party. Damn, he loathed charity season. All these gatherings were the same. First, a domestic version of champagne at the bar and stilted greetings from those too intimidated to approach him. Then, trying to avoid the eager young, and not particularly young, women looking to secure a piece of the Luthor fortune for themselves. Next came the dreary speeches, often accompanied by depressing slides. After which he was expected to deliver a short but heartfelt thank you to the crowd for their generous donations and announce that Luthor Corp would be matching ‘X’ percentage of all funds raised, blah, blah, blah. Finally, the evening would dwindle down to a tiresome close, with more crap champagne - but by this time, the wine would be flat, as well as bone dry, and flavorless as the conversation. Was tonight about AIDS research? he wondered absently. No. That one was two weeks ago. Alzheimer’s? No, next weekend. Lex didn’t have a clue which foundation he was endorsing this time, and truthfully it didn’t matter as long as Luthor Corp got some good spin out of it, various business agreements were initiated or cemented by his board members, and the sparkling socialites of Metropolis had the opportunity to dangle their daughters under his nose. That was the deal. All was well as long as everyone else went home happy. Ah well, he thought resignedly, better go out to the lobby and check the placard to find out what the hell he was supposed to be selling, before the speeches got started. Staving off a yawn, Lex fixed a pleasant expression on his face and glanced around the penthouse ballroom of Luthor Corp Plaza I. With no real inducement, he made steady progress across the floor. Pressing palms with a Senator, offering a smile to the mayor’s passive-aggressive, alcoholic wife, and saying a quick ‘hello’ to the local rising star of the Metropolis ballet, he waded through the crowd. A dark sea of tuxedos and little black dresses blurred his vision. He hated this room. The floors were white marble, and the walls and multi-level ceilings were painted cream and white. There were floor to ceiling windows on all four walls, which normally alleviated Lex’s feeling of being trapped. But not tonight. On this particular night, the glittering lights of the city were obscured by a late September fog that had drifted into downtown from the river. You could go blind from the blandness in this room, he thought caustically. Suddenly, the room went deathly, eerily quiet. Lex turned around and automatically followed the crowd’s eye line to the entrance. Nico Romano. Lex inhaled sharply through his nose. Suddenly, this event held a great deal more interest. What was Romano doing here? He rarely visited the US, and when he did, like most of those in his circle, Romano clung to the coasts. Some men, those who sought to thwart him, for example, would call Romano a formidable enemy. Friends said he was the luckiest son of a bitch of all time. Clearly, with a fortune roughly totaling 35 trillion dollars, Romano’s business acumen was nearly unrivaled. Despite this, Romano lived an almost cloistered life at his vineyard near Florence. Rather than lead a large corporation and live in the public eye, he managed his family’s investment portfolio quietly. This confused Lex. Why would a great man conceal his true nature? Didn’t Romano’s ambition push him to seek new and more challenging conquests? Didn’t he feel the urgency to satisfy the demands of his pride? Of course, Romano was also a man of deep religious conviction, and the Church did caution against the wages of such alleged sins. Performing his duties as host, Lex stepped forward to greet Romano and his entourage. As he closed the distance between them, envy prompted him to wonder if perhaps Romano had recently visited the plastic surgeon. The man must have been about the same age as Lionel, but he never seemed to grow old. Lex’s gaze connected with Paolo Romano, youngest of Nico’s sons, and Paolo whispered something to his father. Of course, Lex would have recognized Romano’s ruggedly handsome features and those of his three sons anywhere. As a young man, Lex had met the legend in Milan and spent some time with his sons, just before Romano outmaneuvered Lionel in a series of complex deals that drove Lionel from Europe in an uncomfortable retreat, and earned Nico Romano the one thing a fifteen year old Lex needed more than air – Lionel Luthor’s profound respect. From that day forward, Lex had made it his business to follow Nico Romano’s investment decisions. He hadn’t gone so far as to have the man investigated, though. Not because he wasn’t interested, but rather, Lex knew that the man who outwitted his father would be easily able to avoid a few detectives. Romano was reputedly not a man to be trifled with. “So we are engaged in some sort of test, mia piccola? Is that why… Please, I beg of you, don’t do this.” As Romano approached, the woman he had called ‘my tiny one’ trailed behind him and was hidden by his sons, who were surrounding her. Although he had only caught a shred of their conversation, Lex was puzzled. Pleading with some girl? That really wasn’t Romano’s style. Until now, apparently. The woman sighed breathily in frustration and the sound blazed into Lex’s heart, racing through his veins. “I have work to do here,” she said tiredly and a little sadly, as if it were the launch of a speech she had given to many friends and lovers over the years in order to justify her neglect. Moments after she spoke her first word to Romano, cold blue steel stabbed into Lex’s lower stomach and smoldered. He shivered. He knew that voice from somewhere. From between the Romano brothers’ tuxedos, he caught a glimpse of her dress. Violet like the flowers. Vibrant and alive, he could tell it was silk by the way it floated over her body. She was slender, statuesque, and she held herself proudly. Her fair hair was pulled up, baring her delicate neck and shoulders, caught at the crown of her head by a green diamond clasp of some kind. “I told you that my responsibilities would bring me back home eventually,” she continued coaxing Romano. “The dreams say I have to be here. It’s not like this has ever been volunteer duty.” Dreams? he wondered. Did she actually just say that her dreams dictated her behavior? That was certainly... strange. “Do not go tonight. Do not discard us to satisfy your obligations, cara mia. Our time together is so short… You could hire and train some… employees. I would pay. And these employees could come here and handle these assignments, while you form strategy and set policy in Toscana with me. Mia bella,” he paused and gazed into her eyes. “To be here, in the midst of this… struggle, it is so perilous. It is also beneath you…” Lex stopped and stood perfectly still, in bewildered silence. Not only had the Romanos not greeted him, but they walked right past, failing to acknowledge him again or to look at him at all. And the way they surrounded the young woman as protectively as Roman sentries guarding the temple of the goddess of… Then something occurred to him. It was almost as if they were trying to keep her from him specifically. Why? After the death of his lovely wife, Gabriella, Romano had been photographed with some of the world’s most stunning women. Why was this one so special? And where did he know her from? Lex was riveted. The boredom he’d felt only moments before was completely forgotten in the rush of a new puzzle to be solved. Who was this young woman and what was it about her that Romano found so compelling? Why were they attempting to hide her in public? Assuming that she frequently socialized with the Romanos, she must be a woman of some influence, Lex acknowledged absently. Although, he’d thought for certain that he had been introduced to every heiress, every minor royal miss, every eligible woman on the planet. But not this one. Where had Romano been keeping her? As they reached the bar, the Romanos seemed to relax a little. Apparently, they weren't shielding the girl from him. Who then? Lex watched the bartender pour her a drink - orange juice with a splash of grapefruit. Not going with the charity circuit champagne. Points for that. Suddenly, she turned to speak to Marco and Lex was able to view her features in profile for the first time. She had a perfectly pert little nose, almond-shaped doe eyes with long curling lashes, and softly rounded lips – the bottom slightly fuller than the top. While she was standing almost directly opposite him, her face was shadowed by the height of the men around her and turned partially away from him. She was gazing up at Nico Romano. She offered the man such a look of devotion, Lex was humbled by it. It was as if, despite what seemed like an ongoing argument, the young woman was silently reassuring Romano that everything was going to be alright. There was something jarringly familiar about that look. Had they met before? Had she looked at him in such a way? And if so, Lex wondered, whom would he have to kill? What would he have to steal? Was there a limit to the crimes he would commit in order to convince her to do it again and again? Briefly, she squeezed her eyes shut and opened them. She was home now. Well, she was in North America anyway. She didn’t want to hurt them. She adored the Romanos. But there was no clear way to stop it. When had she become so numb? When did the marking of time shift from years to scars? She couldn’t remember. Her head swam as the memories taunted her, pressing fire at the base of her forehead. She couldn’t remember. She couldn’t remember anything before a year ago. Nico reached down and picked up her hand, turned it over and pressed a soft kiss into her palm, just as Paolo and Dante received their drinks. Romano muttered something to her that Lex could not hear. She was clearly displeased. The blonde lifted her chin and turned away from him. Briefly, she made eye contact with Lex. He realized when she first walked in that she was beautiful, from the perfect lines of her shadowy, silhouetted features, but her eyes… Her eyes flared wide in surprise at the sight of him, and the vivid green of them startled Lex. She stared for a very long moment. There was no warmth in her gaze at all, as if she felt sure that she knew him from somewhere and was trying to place his face. She studied him, looked right into him, infiltrated, violated, and possessed him. Lex’s fingers curled tighter around the stem of his champagne flute. How could she not know him? His looks were rather distinctive. Starting at his feet, two syllables raced through his body and beat at his mind, until they became like a chant. A plea. Buffy. Buffy. Buffy. He had traced her to Western Europe after the collapse of Sunnydale. She had been in Rome for almost three months when she disappeared. According to his informants, she and her friends had been having the time of their lives. She was moving on. Without him. Then she was gone. Lex had spent a small fortune, hired private detectives, ex-cops, even ex-CIA operatives to accompany him on trips to Italy to find her. They tracked her as far as a small village in France, but not a step beyond. Everyone assured him that she had been kidnapped. Killed. Buried somewhere in the area. He mourned her like the world was ending. Now she was here with someone else. So different and yet so much the same. So beautiful. She was deliverance. She was forgiveness. She was the only woman, other than his mother in whom Lex had complete and utter confidence. She had endured and passed every test his father could devise. She was cool water, relief for the most tormented souls in hell, souls like his, and what was left of the purity in him punched through Lex’s skin and reached for her just as she turned away. For God’s sake, don’t run from me again! “That man is staring at me,” she whispered to Nico. “Something about his face is familiar.” “No doubt, cara, you saw him in the newspaper. His family is very famous.” She felt very strongly that she knew him, but she didn't argue. She would have sworn in court that she had dreamt him a hundred times over the past year, and yet none of those dreams came to her now with specifics. He wasn’t classically handsome. But still, there was something so compelling about his face. It warmed her heart to look at him. Something about him made her want to reach out... Lex swallowed convulsively. He fought down the need to run to her, to touch her, to determine whether or not she was real. He had been staring. Practically salivating. He was shaking with need for someone who had dismissed him. In public. He was doing this in full view of others. His father’s voice inside his mind upbraided him. “A Luthor is never surprised, and only very occasionally startled, son. And when you are startled, for Christssakes Lex, never let it show.” Swiftly, the nonchalant indifference he packaged himself in settled back down around his shoulders like an icy shroud. He was himself again. She was speaking to Nico again and Lex strained to listen to her rambling, passion-drenched Italian. As he translating in his head, Lex was reminded of soft firelight and warm sheets. “Sapete importante le mie responsabilità sono a me. (You know how important my responsibilities are to me.) Inoltre, non lo amate.(Besides, you don’t love me.) E non mi ricordo di dire che ti amo.(And I don’t remember saying that I love you.)” “If only you would, mia piccola,” Nico Romano sighed dejectedly. “If only I would…” she began in perplexity, and then a bright smile smoothed her lips and twinkled in her eyes. “Not say I love you? Huh?” “No cara. You know what I mean,” he replied, more demand in his tone than explanation or request. She froze, tightening her jaw. “You know, I just might have, if you hadn’t… I’m going to go get… air… and powder… something…” she grunted, nearly gnashing her teeth in frustration. And without another word, she turned and headed for the exit. Lex held his breath, watching her push past him. Finally crossing the floor to shake hands with Lex, Nico gestured in the direction of the retreating lady. “I see you’ve noticed my lovely friend. Obviously, you are a man of exquisite taste.” “What’s her name?” Lex asked, his tone implying that he really wasn’t very interested. Paolo, Nico Romano’s youngest son, smirked. While the Romano family was reputedly very serious about their business interests, Lex also remembered their wicked sense of humor. He braced himself accordingly. “Call her ‘Mistress’,” Paolo remarked with a straight face. “She likes it.” Nico scoffed. “She has many names, Signore Luthor. Grace… Joy…. Beauty… Love… Strength…” Behind his father’s back, Marco, the Romano heir apparent coughed out a phrase that sounded remarkably like ‘suck up’. In jest, the middle son, Dante, huffed, “You forgot Obstinate, Opinionated, Relentless, Impulsive, Expensive, and Untidy.” Grinning like an idiot, Marco said, “And Impatient. Don’t forget that one.” “Really? All those things?” Lex inquired with a skeptical grin. “Yes, it’s all true,” Dante drawled in heavily Italian-accented English. “However, allow me to advise you in this. Even if greatly inspired to do so, don’t use the less than flattering ones. She’s got a vicious left hook.” Marco, who had managed to remain quiet for almost twenty seconds, felt compelled to add, “Not to mention her nasty right.” “And she kicks, too,” Paolo insisted with a shudder. “As a result, she’s convinced that she is never, ever wrong. She’s impossible to live with. Stay away, Lex. Stay far, far away.” “Thanks, I’ll be sure to remember that,” Lex stated dubiously. Then turning back to Nico, he asked, “She does have a name, right?” “She might answer to Bellissima,” Nico suggested questioningly, looking for approval from the others. Dante and Paolo expressed their non-verbal agreement in mock solemnity, and Marco offered his ascent. “Yes, that might actually work.” “I’d kill for some aspirin,” she injected from behind Lex, startling him. She reached forward, and for a millisecond, Lex almost extended his hand to meet hers. He would have sworn that she was reaching for him. Then her hand shifted, coiled around Marco’s bicep, and he stepped back to allow her entrance into the circle of conversation. Addressing her, Marco asked, “Another headache, cara?” At her nod, he excused himself to retrieve some pain medication from their driver. Guiding her gently, Paolo pulled her in front of him, his hands falling possessively on her shoulders. As if perplexed, she lifted one eyebrow and smiled up at him questioningly. Paolo returned her smile and she shrugged. “Where have you been, Bella?” Nico chastised. She smiled wryly, and gestured to the back of the room. “Primping. Then trying to persuade the DJ to play something not so geriatric.” Nico laughed. “Always the primping first, Bella? Is that a prerequisite?” She shrugged and smiled ruefully, “Sometimes it works.” Long forgotten warmth at the amusement in her voice flooded his body and made his chest ache. Lionel had taught him that knowing and preparing for all possible responses before posing a question was the key to ensuring a successful negotiation. Unable to come up with another way to secure her attention in a hurry, Lex used the technique socially. “Did it work this time?” “Not even a little,” she replied glumly. “I’m Bella, by the way. Bella Romano.” “You certainly are,” he muttered under his breath. “What?” He smiled his most charming and extend his hand to shake hers. “A pleasure, Bella. I’m Lex.” “Luthor?” she asked cautiously. “Yes.” “Oh.” “You know, Bella,” Paolo smirked, “You and Lex have something in common?” She leaned back into the protection of Paolo’s chest, and he wrapped his arms around her affectionately. If Lex were less in control of himself and his reactions, he would have clenched his teeth. “What could we possibly?” she wondered aloud, her gaze seeking Lex’s curiously. “You both are reputed be distant romantically, to have hearts of ice.” She elbowed Paolo and he staggered back, “Hey! That was a cheap shot.” She crossed her arms. “Yes, it was,” she growled. Then she turned to Lex, the smile in her eyes threatening to blossom across her lips. “Is that true, Mr. Luthor? A heart of ice?” “Please, it’s Lex. Mr. Luthor is my father,” he said, smiling warmly. “And no, it’s not true. Although sometimes I wish it were. I fell in love once. Once upon a time.” “She must have been quite a lady,” Nico said. “No greater treasure has ever existed. Anywhere.” Marco, who had just returned from the car, dropped two aspirins in Bella's hand and asked, “What happened, Lex?” “She… We were often separated,” he began, his eyes rolling skyward as if he were looking for a way to explain. “Yes?” Not fully understanding why, Bella reached out and touched his arm, encouraging him to continue. Lex’s sharp eyes rested on her kind ones and he slowed his breathing to match hers. “She told me that when we were apart, it was imperative that we be free to be with other people. That it was the only way we wouldn’t resent each other. Then one day, she came to me. It was a surprise visit. She saw me kissing another woman.” “Oh, I see,” Bella nodded. “You didn’t hear the rest of what…” “Buffy,” Lex offered, hoping that he might detect some reaction. But she didn’t seem to respond to the sound of her real name at all. “You didn’t hear the rest of what Buffy was saying.” “The rest?” he asked, intrigued. “The silent part. The part that went: P.S. - Way kidding. If you don’t spend every waking moment pining in miserable, wretched agony while we’re apart, then we are totally over.” Lex stared at her in bemused fascination. The irony of his wife, who didn’t recognize her own name let alone her husband standing less than a foot away from her, interpreting herself to him was so heartbreaking and yet so absurd that he nearly laughed aloud. Would his life always feel like act three in a Greek tragedy? Then, breaking the spell he was under, she turned and addressed the Romanos, asking, “Who’s got their watch on? Time to go yet?” Nico lifted his hand, and stroked the back of her hair. “Va bene, bambina. You might see us at the club later.” “Yes!” she exclaimed. Over her shoulder she remembered to call out, “Don’t be too long!” Lex watched her go. He was surprised by the sentimental image in his mind of Buffy returning and dragging him along behind her, as she did the first night they met. He could almost feel her little hand in his, urging him away from the lifeless party. If only she had. Lex smiled wryly. “I’ll try not to take that enthusiastic escape personally.” “Don’t. She hates these things,” Nico mentioned gallantly. “Actually, she hates any social gathering that draws those of us with what she likes to call ‘obscenely large fortunes’,” Paolo agreed. Marco nodded. “Bella says the very wealthy are hopelessly, mind-numbingly dull, because we weren’t raised to think of anyone except ourselves.” “That’s so true!” Dante laughed in recollection. “She hasn’t said that in so long… I forgot… But shortly after the first time we met, I foolishly invited her to...” Glancing at his father, Dante paused, fumbling with discretion, “Well… In any case, she asked me if I thought I could suspend selfishness long enough to make it worthwhile. At the time, I wasn’t sure exactly what she meant, but it certainly clarified her position very succinctly…” Paolo ran a hand through his shiny black hair. “She’s an expert at that.” “Yes,” Nico offered quickly, frowning at his sons. “She has had a profound effect on us all.” “How do you know her? It’s clear she’s an American, and that you care for her deeply. Is she somehow related to you?” Lex rushed, politely changing the subject. Resignation surfaced and he clung to it. He had to know what happened to her. Tomorrow he would contact the Palmieri detectives in Rome. “The truth is we don’t know who she really is or where she belongs. She had an accident of some kind near the Cathédrale St-Lazare." Lex nodded. "In Autun." "Yes. Marco found her there, unconscious. She lost her memory, so after she was released from the hospital he brought her home to us. We took her in and gave her our name. She has served as my bodyguard and consigliere ever since,” Nico replied starkly. Lex choked on his last sip of champagne, his mind reeling. If she didn’t remember him, maybe he would have the opportunity to get to know her all over again. He wouldn’t rush this time. They could begin again. All eyes locked on him. “Isn’t she a little young?” he covered. “And a little…” Smiling at Lex indulgently, Dante finished for him, “feminine?” “You’d be surprised,” Nico said. “Bella is young, in her early 20s. But she is a formidable opponent nevertheless. Absolutely fearless. Remarkably intuitive. And her mind works strategically, in that, not only does she offer very sage advice for one so young, but she also provides me with every imaginable outcome, and the direct and indirect impacts of those eventualities on the family. Recently, she has started working as a consultant with the Italian Department of Public Security.” “Really?” Lex pondered aloud. Then offering his most charming smile, he asked, “A bodyguard and consigliere for those who only need one occasionally? Do you think she might be persuaded to come to work for me?” Marco laughed. “No offense, Lex, but I really don’t think so.” Then Dante began, “While she is anxious to spend a little more time…” But Paolo’s gaze connected with his brother’s and abruptly Dante was silent. They’re concealing almost as much as I am, Lex realized sardonically. “What my brother is trying to say is that Luthor Corp probably isn’t even on her list of potential clients, were she to decide to expand her circle beyond Italia’s national law enforcement departments,” explained Paolo. “She is a painfully honorable woman, Lex. People and situations fall into two categories for her: black and white, good or evil, and your family doesn’t have a particularly sterling reputation… Lex? Are you listening?” But he wasn’t. His mind was gone the moment Romano’s sons tipped their hand. Lex glanced at his watch. The evening had really only just begun. It would be an hour before he could sneak out, and two hours to get home to Smallville if he drove very, very fast. There was so much to do. Preparations to make. “Lex?” “I’m sorry, Paolo. I’m suddenly not feeling well.” “Oh?” “I’m sure it will pass,” Lex added dismissively. “I believe the presentation is about to begin,” mentioned Nico. Gesturing to the stage and the man frantically trying to get Lex’s attention, he continued, “I think you are needed.” Lex ran a hand over his head in frustration, then the genial mask fell and he approached the place reserved for him at the front of the crowd. Stepping up to greet the charity foundation’s guests from the podium, Lex gave his brief speech on autopilot. While he offered the event’s attendees his warmest thanks - a variation on words he’d spoken countless times before, Lex’s mind twisted back to the beginning and firmly entrenched itself in the past. Previous Chapter The Price We Pay Menu Next Chapter |
