Her Sicilian Arrangement Read Online Free PDF

act in a manner of
professionalism and be at our best conduct as adults. Marco
Mussolini has been tried by a court and the verdict has been ruled
in his favour. You may ask your questions when I welcome him to the
podium. With all that said… Signor Mussolini, we welcome you!”
    The
audience of journalists applauded as the two men entered the room
and took their seats on the sides of the middle one. Meagan looked
on and then averted her eyes to the door. It was a few moments
until she saw a man enter who was far too gorgeous to be mixed up
in drug-smuggling. Her eyes widened beyond control as her eyes
followed the movements of a person that had the aura of a
businessman who no one could match up to, and the features of a man
that would have any woman weak in her knees. He was about six feet
four inches and his broad shoulders complimented the tailoring of
his black suit. His perfectly carved nose made him all the more
beautiful along with the dark grey smoky eyes filled with hypnosis.
His hair was short and thick with its jet colour, bringing out his
eyes, complimented by natural blue undertones. He was simply
stunning and she gulped as he sat in his seat.
    Meagan watched as his attorney whispered something in his ear
and then the speaker continued, “ Signor Mussolini is taking the first question…” In a second, Meagan
saw everyone else’s arm shoot upwards that she didn’t even bother
to raise hers. “The lady in the pink…” The woman seated directly in
front of her stood, with a pen and notes pad in her
hands.
    “ I
am Charlene Bishop from London. Mr. Mussolini, is it true that you
and your younger brother were seen in Libya transporting large
unlabelled packets?”
    He
looked to his attorney, who nodded, and then pulled the microphone
nearer to him. “ Sí . My
brother, Felípe, and I go to Libya countless times therefore it
would have been untruthful to say according to the contrary, no ?”
    “ What were in the packets?”
    “Food supplies,” he replied, sitting quite relaxed in his
chair. “We donate food to villages in Libya and Tunisia to those
who need it, Signora .’
    The
woman nodded and took her seat. Shortly a man stood and threw his
own question. “It has been alleged by a few of your employees that
they saw you packaging these drugs at nights. How true are
they?”
    His
chuckle threaded the entire room and the male journalist frowned.
“ Mi scusi, Signora !” he said and then wiped the laughter
from his face, the amusement still obvious in his eyes. “We both
know that if that were true, I would not admit it, eh? But, no…it
is not!”
    He
then took his seat and then and the speaker asked, “Next
question…who has the next question?”
    Meagan looked around and noticed that no one standing so she
slowly got to her feet. She could feel her toes sweating lightly in
her shoes and she had no idea why she felt so nervous. She had
never been shy and this was a first for her. She looked at him and
his gaze pierced hotly through her. She swallowed and then looked
down at her own notes pad. Her lips parted but she felt as if no
words would come out. “And you are?” she heard him say and
straightened her back as she heard a dreadful sigh come from the
person behind her.
    “ Uh…Meagan Summers,” she replied. “I’m from New
York.”
    “Ahh…an American ,” he
exclaimed with a smile. “Let me hear what the Americans are eager
to know of me…”
    She
nodded and the stared at him. She didn’t have many questions since
the best ones had been asked already so she decided to hit him with
something personal.
    “ Uh…Mr. Mussolini, how’s your father?”
    The
entire room laughed but his face darkened as if she had struck a
nerve. “What has my father to do with the current matter?” he
questioned in a flat tone. “My father is fine…as far as I
know.”
    Her
eyes narrowed at him as he maintained eye contact with her. “You
are not close?”
    “My
father and I have issues, Signora.