Giovanni (Benedetti Brothers 4)

We pass through the old iron gates, and a few minutes later, I stop the car in front of the house. Remy, the man who runs the household, steps out the front door before we’re even out of the car. I come around to open Emilia’s door, watch his face as he does a double take. Remy has been working for my family since before I was born, and he knew Angelica. He quickly schools his features, though, and greets us. I introduce Emilia, and we head inside.

The house has been updated over the years. Although it’s been kept in the traditional style, it contains all of the comforts of modern life. From the entrance, the foyer opens up into a huge circular hall with stone stairs leading to the second level on either side and, straight through, two large doors that lead to the terrace stand open, where deep purple bougainvillea hang like a canopy overhead, filtering the sun.

“Wow.”

“I’ll show you,” I say, unable to hide my own smile. She’s impressed. Anyone who is invited into the house is.

I lead her out onto the terrace, which spans the length of the house. She walks to the farthest point and peeks over the stone railing. The sea is below, the color a deep turquoise.

“You’re going to have to learn how to swim.” I turn and take out my phone to check messages.

I reply to the message, confirming the time of the meeting, and tuck the phone away.

“Work already?”

I wrap an arm around her. “Not yet. Not until tomorrow. Just have to make a call. Go change into a swimsuit. I’ll meet you by the pool. Remy will show you our room.”

Remy, ever attentive, is already there.

Her face loses its smile for a moment, but she relinquishes and disappears up the stairs. I head to my study to make the calls, arrangements for tomorrow’s meetings. There will be two, one for those loyal to me, and one for those still loyal to my father. It’s the latter that worries me. I want those men rounded up and present. I’m not wasting my time here, and they’ll be asked exactly once if they’re in or out. I assume it will take one example of “out” to cement allegiance. Some people just need a nudge to make the right decision.

Once that’s done, and before I go out to meet Emilia, there’s one other thing I want to do. Taking a handful of the flowers from the vase in the foyer, I head upstairs, all the way upstairs to the attic. The last time I did this was after what happened with my father. Before the arrest. I still had splatters of my father’s blood on my shirt then, the betrayal fresh. I still felt something when I walked up these narrower stairs to the dark room used for storage.

The door at the top of the stairs is locked, but the key is above the door frame. There’s not much need for anyone to come up here, and I know the maids think her ghost still haunts it. But I don’t think that’s true anymore. It did, but it doesn’t anymore.

I walk inside. The heat here is stifling. I clear a cobweb out of my path and make my way to a tall, narrow door leading to a small balcony. It creaks open, the hinges rusting. I’ll need to make sure that’s repaired.

I step out onto the balcony and look down over the cliffs and into the sea. Without a word, I toss the handful of flowers out and watch them as they fall through the sky.

“What are you doing?”

I turn to find Emilia watching me. She’s wearing a bikini with a sarong wrapped around her hips and flip–flops. She’s holding a wide-brimmed hat and a book in one hand.

“You’re sneaky.”

“Not sneaky. Just quiet” She studies me, peers over the balcony. “Is this where she…”

“Yes.”

Again, she watches me, and I watch her.

“Is it weird I’m here?” she asks as if she read my mind.

I thought it might be strange having her here. Here in the same house where she looks so much like the ghost who only recently left the premises. But it’s not.

I look her over, the turquoise suit matching the sea, accentuating her olive skin. My hand looks enormous when I set it against her stomach, push her gently backward into the wall. I kiss her.

“You’re where you belong. With me.”

“But—”

“The past is dead, Emilia. You’re my future. And I don’t plan on wasting one minute of it.”

The faintest smile softens her features and when I take her into my arms, she melts into me, her body molding to mine.

“I love you,” I tell her.

“I love you, Giovanni.”

The end