Veretti’s Dark Vengeance

‘I know. But it’s the right word. There’s nothing else to say.’

She chuckled, and the feel of her body shaking against him filled him with delight. She followed it with a long, contented sigh that almost destroyed his control, enough to make him take her again at that very moment, no nonsense, no preliminaries, no manners.

Her fingertips were feather-light against his face.

‘I wonder who won this time,’ she said drowsily.

You did, he thought. You snapped your fingers and I came running like a desperate schoolboy, because I’ve spent the last week haunted by you, sleepless because of you, angry with you because you wouldn’t go away even though you weren’t there.

Something happened the other night that I don’t understand. All I know is that I’ve been waiting for you to decide. Now it seems that you have, but I still don’t know what’s going on in your head, and that worries me more than I can risk letting you know. But suddenly you don’t seem to have any worries in the world. Oh, yes, you’ve won.

Aloud he said, ‘Let’s call it even.’

A few days later they discussed the coming festival over dinner in a small trattoria overlooking the Grand Canal. It was tiny and basic, but its pizzas were among the best in Venice.

‘The fleet of boats leaves from St Mark’s,’ Salvatore explained, ‘so it will be a five-minute walk from the hotel. My secretary will collect you. Then we go out into the lagoon to the Lido Island, to the church of St Nicolo on the far side. After the ring has been flung into the sea we disembark and there’s a church service.’

‘Has this really been going on for a thousand years?’

‘More than a thousand. The original idea was to demonstrate Venice’s supremacy, and remind the world that the Venetian Republic would always be dominant.’

‘And you haven’t changed, have you? As far as you’re concerned you still rule the world.’

‘There’s not a doubt of it.’ He met her eyes. ‘And if the world forgets, the world must be reminded.’

‘You enjoy that bit, don’t you?’

He took an unsteady breath. ‘Can we not talk about that right now?’

‘Do I strain your self-control?’ she teased.

‘Will you stop gloating?’

‘Of course. I’ll wait until we’re alone, and gloat then. It’ll be more fun.’

‘As I was saying…’ He ground his teeth. ‘What was I saying?’

‘Telling me about the festivities.’

‘Yes, then there are firework displays, concerts, dinners. You’ll come to the Palazzo Veretti for that part of the day. A room will be prepared for you, and I hope you’ll stay the night. By the time the evening finishes it’ll be too late for you to go back to the hotel.’

‘Of course,’ she said wisely. ‘And it’s such a long walk, isn’t it?’

He grinned.

His decision that Helena should meet his family had been an impulse, soon regretted. His grandmother’s blatantly expressed contempt had angered him, making him forget that he’d once judged Helena in the same way.

Now he would have given anything to get out of the occasion, guessing how many of his family would share the signora’s opinion of her as a vulgar, money-grubbing tart. Most of all he feared that one of them would insult her openly, driving him to her defence and revealing something in himself that he wasn’t yet ready to face.

But since he was caught he was determined to show her honour in a way his family couldn’t misunderstand.

‘They’re all eager to meet you,’ he told her.

‘I’ll bet they are,’ she said, wry but amused. ‘Are the missiles ready for chucking? Will you supply them or will they provide their own?’

‘I don’t know why you should talk like that,’ he growled.

‘Liar,’ she said mildly. ‘You know exactly why I should talk like that.’

She regarded him with an impish smile, causing a confusion inside him that was becoming all too familiar: bang his head in frustration or succumb to delight?

‘I misunderstood you once,’ he said, choosing his words carefully, ‘but that’s in the past.’

‘You mean you’ve told your family how things are between us?’ she asked innocently. ‘I mean- exactly how.’

He didn’t answer in words, but gave her a look that made her choke with laughter.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, touching his face. ‘It’s wicked of me to tease you, but I can’t help it. You never see it coming until it’s too late.’

‘That’s because nobody’s ever done it before.’

‘Nobody? Surely there must be someone in the family who sent you up rotten when you were a kid?’

He shook his head. ‘Sending up rotten has never been a feature of my family life.’

‘You poor soul. You’ve been really deprived.’

‘I’ve never felt it as a deprivation,’ he said firmly. But then he amended, ‘Not then. Now I think some practice might help me to deal with you.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll give you plenty of practice. Now, go on telling me about what’ll happen when I go into the lions’ den.’

He tried to describe his relatives, many of whom would be coming in from distant parts of Italy for the occasion. After a while Helena’s eyes glazed over.

‘How many cousins do you have?’ she demanded, aghast. ‘I think you must populate all Italy.’

‘We do. The numbers are frightening. But let’s forget them for now. You’ll meet them soon enough. They’re fascinated by you. My young cousin Matilda is obsessed with fashion and says she’s longing to meet “a real celebrity”.’

Helena’s lips twitched. ‘But I thought you had lots of notable people in the family. A cardinal or two, a doge, a few aristocrats who married into the Verettis.’

‘Yes, indeed. But to Matilda a real celebrity means you. And she’s not the only one. Since we’ve been seen together my stock had soared.’

He said it half-humorously, half-wryly, as though his lighter and darker side hadn’t yet decided what he really felt. Helena enclosed his hand between both hers and spoke lightly, yet also with a kind of pity.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I cause you a lot of trouble, don’t I? Shall I go away?’

His fingers tensed suddenly, as though to imprison her, then loosened again, but still holding her.

Daringly she ventured, ‘Shall I sell you the factory, and go right away for ever so that you never have to hear of me again?’

Slowly he raised his head, and his eyes were full of conflict.

‘Do you mean that?’ he asked quietly.

‘No.’

‘That’s what I hoped.’

He didn’t say any more, but neither did he release her hand. His attention seemed fixed on the Grand Canal, where boats were drifting along in the intense evening light. Sunset spread over the water, casting a fierce scarlet glow everywhere in its path.

‘It’s like the furnace,’ Helena said. ‘When you open the Glory Hole you see that brilliant heat and for a moment it’s truly glorious.’

But then the light began to fade. The sun’s moment was past, and gradually the dazzling riches disappeared.

‘And then it’s over,’ she mused. ‘So quickly.’

‘Yes,’ he said, and she wondered if she heard him sigh.

The scene had changed to one of calm pleasure. Now the softly lit lamps were strung along the canal banks; vaporettifilled with laughing passengers chugged along the water, gondolas drifted on their way, each lit by a single lamp. It was charming, but it lacked the delirious joy of a few moments ago.

That could only ever be there fleetingly, she thought.