ANMELDENChapter 5
It had been three weeks since the masquerade ball, but the memory of that one night of fire between her and the stranger was the peak. She had snuck out of the hotel in the early hours of the morning, while he slept like a happy baby. There had been a strong temptation to peek under his mask, but she had resisted… it was better they never met again, not with the kind of dominion he had over her body. But here she was now, three weeks later with a pregnancy test kit in her hands, her pulse pounding feverishly. She watched as the lines began to form… and the plus sign yet again… positive. It had to be a mistake, she kept telling herself. Maybe the first three kits were defective, maybe this one as well… but deep in her heart she knew the truth. The symptoms were not a lie… the constant nausea, the exhaustion she had started experiencing lately which wasn't natural… She was pregnant. She looked at herself in the mirror, clutching her stomach as the realization began to dawn on her. The masked stranger at the ball, one night of sinful pleasure, and now she was carrying a child… his child. She had no idea who he was, she had insisted on sharing no names or identity, just a consummation of their lustful desires… a quick fire and release. She had to think of something… and fast. … Luca stood at his office window, looking down on the tiny movements of cars and people far on the ground. His interests were elsewhere however, on the passionate night he had shared in Rome with the masked woman. She had gone before he woke up, and so far all efforts to find her had been fruitless. Nobody knew who she was, or where she came from… He was almost made to believe he imagined it, but such pleasures could never be a mere work of imagination. A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. “Come in,” he said in a bored voice, tired of hearing disappointing news. The door opened and a young lady came in… She was in charge of his spy networks, and helped him in locating anyone he wanted to find. She had been searching for his runaway wife Isabella for the last two years without success, and now he also had her searching for the mystery woman in Rome. “What is it Carla? I hope you have some good news for me today.” “Actually I do sir,” she said with a cocky grin. “It's double good news.” A smile lit up Luca’s face and he quickly waved her to the chair opposite his own as he sat down. “We've managed to find your wife sir. It appears she is alive and well.” Luca froze in his chair, unable to believe the news he had just received. Despite the death certificate that had turned up in Sicily about Isabella being dead, he'd refused to believe it and insisted they keep on searching… and now it turns out he has been right all along. “Wh…what? Where is she? Is she okay?” he asked, leaning forward in anticipation. “That brings us to the second good news sir,” Carla said calmly. “It appears your ex-wife has been in Rome this whole time, hiding under the cover of a private and secretive art dealer called Elena Romano.” Luca's eyes widened in surprise. He had never heard that name before, even if he wasn't passionate about art, he knew quite a few dealers through his friends, and the name had never been mentioned. “Why haven't I heard the name before?” He asked. “Because she turned up mysteriously two years ago sir, around the time your wife left. No one knows anything about her or where she came from, and she keeps a very low profile.” “Okay okay,” Luca said, eager to know more. “How does this information concern the second good news you're talking about.” Carla smiled. “The masked lady at the masquerade ball was Elena Romano sir… or should I say, your ex-wife Isabella.” Luca stared at her in complete disbelief. “How sure are you about this Carla?” “We were able to convince one of her staff to speak, and we managed to get a detailed description of her attire at the ball.” Luca stood up and began to pace inside the office, multiple thoughts and scenarios running through his mind. It was almost crazy… the woman he had the best sex of his life with was non other than his supposedly dead ex-wife, who forced a divorce out of him and disappeared. He turned to Carla. “Get me the media team immediately.” … Elena was sorting through her things one afternoon when a name from the reporter suddenly captured her attention… Luca Moretti. She quickly grabbed the remote to increase the volume, but the headline on the screen suddenly froze her in her tracks… ‘Luca Moretti spotted revealed to be a masked guest at recent Masquerade ball in Rome.’ Underneath the headline were two pictures, one of Luca in a mask, and the other without it. But the mask was the problem, because staring right at her from the screen was the mystery mask stranger she had fucked to passionately three weeks ago. Panic swelled inside her. She had been hiding successfully for two years, and the one night she took to indulge herself she had ended up with her past. And worst of all, she was carrying his child. Her hand subconsciously rubbed her stomach as thought about it. But this couldn't be happening… what were the chances that he hadn't already figured out who she was, what if it had been a trap. Elena's mind raced with many thoughts, but there was only one thing left to do… she had to run, run very far away and like she did two years ago. As she thought about it, her phone started to ring on the table. She ignored it for a while, focused instead on the traumatic news staring at her from the television. But when the ringing refused to subside, she picked the phone and looked at it… an unknown number. She stood, staring at the phone in her hand, suddenly afraid of who might be on the other end. She picked the call… “Hello?” “Hello signora Romano,” Giovanni's voice floated through the phone. Elena breathed a sigh of relief. “Hello signore Giovanni, can I call you back? I'm in a meeting right now.” She hung up before he could even utter a another word, but when she turned back to the TV, the news was gone…then the phone rang again. “What could he possibly want?” she muttered in irritation and answered the call again. “Signore Giovanni…” “Hello Isabella.” Came a deep, rich voice. She froze, her heart stopping as recollection flooded her head. “Luca…?”The call came just after midnight.It rang up through the sleeping house like a bell in an empty church, the old black telephone on her father's desk, three long rings and a pause. On the balcony, Luca's hand tightened around hers. Under the bare oaks the lantern guttered, and the silver urn lay warm in her lap."Let it ring," Luca said quietly, with his thumb moving over her knuckles. "Whoever it is can wait until morning.""No one calls that line for good news," Isabella answered, rising and folding the blanket over the arm of her chair. She smiled down at him, and her eyes were calm. "Go and check on Matteo, Luca. I heard him turn in his sleep a minute ago.""You did not hear anything.""A mother always hears." She bent and kissed his forehead. "Go."He studied her face for a long moment in the lantern light, and the corner of his mouth lifted. Then he stood, kissed her once on the mouth, and went in through the glass doors with his bare feet soft on the boards. She listened to him
Matteo let go of the chair on a gray Tuesday afternoon, and nobody in the study noticed until he was halfway across the floor.Isabella sat behind the wide oak desk with a quarterly report open under her pen, frowning at a column of figures. Across the room, Luca stood at the window with a telephone pressed to his ear, listening to a Marseille importer explain why a shipment was late. The study had been rebuilt in the spring, with new glass, a floor of honey-colored oak, and a plain wooden table where the cracked one had stood. Her father's portrait hung beside the desk with a small gold stag pinned to its frame."No, Henri, I do not want a better excuse," Luca said, turning the silver bracelet on his wrist, his back to the room, "I want those crates on the Genoa quay by Thursday.""Bella," Gerald whispered from the rug, a wooden block frozen in his fist and his thin face gone still, "look at your son."She looked up. Her pen slid out of her fingers.Matteo stood in the middle of the
The beam was gone.Isabella saw it the moment she stepped through the doors of the Council chamber, and her stride faltered on the black marble. For three years that wooden post with its iron ring had stood in every nightmare she had. Now the platform at the end of the long room was bare and freshly scrubbed, with two tall chairs of dark carved wood set side by side where the gallows had been. Only four small holes in the stone showed where the iron had once been bolted down."I had it torn out on Tuesday," Don Aldo Ferrante said quietly, leaning on his silver cane at the foot of the platform. "Four men and a crowbar, and I stood and watched every nail come out. I thought you should not have to walk past it.""Thank you, Don Aldo," Isabella whispered, with her throat tight.Snow drifted down through the stained glass skylight and melted before it reached the floor. Every family in New York had come. They filled the benches along both walls in black coats and black hats, and a narrow g
The sacristy smelled of candle wax and old wool, and five men were waiting in it.Isabella stopped on the threshold with Luca at her shoulder and Matteo still asleep against his chest. A tall young man in a cream linen suit lounged against the vestment cupboard with his arms folded, as comfortable as if the chapel belonged to him. His black hair was oiled back from a handsome, sulky face, and a signet ring glittered on his hand. Beside him stood a heavy man in his sixties with Don Aldo's long nose, and behind them, stiff and silent in black overcoats, two of the old Council elders she had seen at the Summit."Signora Moretti," the young man said, with a smile that did not reach his eyes, "forgive us for interrupting your feast. I am Enzo Ferrante.""Don Aldo's grandson," Isabella answered, folding her bandaged hands in front of her, "and the man who owes my son's christening an apology.""I would not dream of spoiling a child's day." He pushed off the cupboard and bowed, with a shade
The chapel of San Felice stood at the top of a goat track, and by eleven o'clock the whole mountain smelled of roasting lamb.Isabella stood in the monastery cloister with her son in her arms, watching Rosa march across the courtyard like a general at the head of an army. Behind her came six novice monks carrying trays of stuffed artichokes, cannoli, fried rice balls, and a roast pig the size of a child. Two hundred guests had been invited, and Rosa had sworn on her mother's grave that every one of them would leave unable to walk."Not there, Brother, the long table!" Rosa bellowed, snapping her wooden spoon at a startled monk. "Do you want it to run away?""She has not slept in three days, signora," Tomas murmured, hurrying past with a crate of lemons on his shoulder, grinning like a boy at a fair. "She says a christening is harder than a war.""She is right, Tomas," Isabella answered, laughing, and she shifted Matteo against her shoulder.He wore a long white gown that Carla Rinaldi
Special Agent Reyes did not sit down, and Isabella did not offer her a chair.They stood facing each other in the shell of the great hall, with rain dripping through the ruined ceiling and plaster dust lying like snow across the marble. Luca moved a step closer to his wife's shoulder. Leone had gone very still by the window, with one thumb hooked into his belt."Elena Romano held an Italian passport for two years, Mrs. Moretti," Reyes said, sliding a photograph out of her coat and laying it on the edge of a broken table, her voice level and polite. "A widow, an art dealer, born in Palermo. The records say she died in a car accident before she ever opened her gallery.""Then she was a very unusual widow," Isabella answered quietly, looking down at her own face in the picture, with its black gown and its dark glossy hair."I read Inspector Leone's file on her." Reyes's sharp eyes did not leave Isabella's face. "I read it twice, and last Thursday it was withdrawn, pending correction. A g
Riccardo rushed in first when they arrived back at the mansion.Luca followed…slowly.A little too slowly.The strong and confident stride that defined him was gone, and his usual aura of dominance suddenly looked like a candle that was struggling to stay lit. Blood was still slowly flowing from hi
Luca had booked out the entire aircraft, making every other seat empty except for the two of them… and the men stationed discreetly behind the cockpit door.Isabella sat with her arms crossed, carrying a large frown on her face. She hadn’t spoken to him in over twenty minutes.Luca, who had been wa
The hotel room door clicked shut behind Isabella, locking out the hallway noise and the memory of the police station with it. She didn’t waste any time in kicking her heels aside, taking off her clothes, and heading straight into the bathroom. She needed water and silence, and she needed a moment w
Dante Romano was in his office, casually sipping red wine with a rare smile on his lips. The cigar he had just finished lay in a silver ash tray in front of him, letting out small wisps of smoke.Lucho Vestari, one of his most trusted enforcers, was standing on the other side of the office, watchin







