Ivar continued. “Do not be offended by what I am about to say. For you to think something tragic will happen to the Catholic Church because there is a homosexual Verona…well, is the ultimate hubris for you to feel burdened by your inability to meet the heterosexual tenets of Catholicism. Your church may judge you, but you are already spiritually outside of those tenets and living a lie to keep from being judged.”
“Vincenzo is the last male Verona,” Leonardo sobbed between hitched breaths. “This can’t be the end of their sacred lineage.” He hiccupped.
Vincenzo hugged him. “Hush now, take deep breaths…”
Markus sat bolt upright in his seat and looked at Leo, realization dawning in his eyes. “No, no, that is not an option. Leonardo, do not say any more.” It was a warning.
Yvania held her hand up. “We all say our part, everybody will say what is on their mind…”
Leonardo wiped his eyes. “I’ll go away so Vincenzo and Giselle can make an heir and be a real husband and wife. Markus, you have to step away…”
Yvania’s mouth dropped open, letting out a shocked exhale. Giselle felt as if she’d been slapped. She swiveled her head to confront Leonardo, while Markus put a reassuring hand on hers. He spoke quietly, but there was real menace in his tone and his eyes were icy. “Do not ever say that again. Do not discount what Giselle and I have. And you know you are not the reason Vincenzo is gay. It is his nature, just as it is yours.”
“I couldn’t give you up, Leonardo.” Vincenzo was choking on his words. “And I’ve wasted time resenting that I don’t have brothers to share my family duty. But, Ivar, my awareness of my responsibility to the Catholic Church is not hubris or ego.”
Ivar looked exasperated as he extended a hand into the air above his head. “It can only be. You are just a man in the divine scheme, and you cannot matter to your church to the degree you think you do. If you believe in God, you must believe He is everything. Or, He is nothing. If God desires the Verona bloodline to die out, then it will. You must reveal your sexual nature to your parents and godfather. Your secret is hurting you, and two people you love very much, and Markus, who is a good man…even he is losing patience.”
Vincenzo hung his head and folded his hands.
Markus spoke up. “Vincenzo, our hearts determine our fate. Pope Leopold knows this. It is what makes us human.”
Leonardo sobbed against Vincenzo’s shoulder.
Yvania said tenderly, “I have only been thinking for Giselle and Markus’ pain. But Leonardo has had too much secret-keeping. I see the hurt of his heart.”
“I’ll break the hearts of my parents and spiritual father,” Vincenzo whispered. “Ultimately I’ll break the Catholic Church.”
“I cannot answer for your church,” Ivar answered in a tired tone. “But you are already breaking hearts that only you can mend. Tell the truth, and then you will all be free from living this lie.”
“We are as sick as our secrets,” Yvania said.
“You have not told the truth since you were a boy.” Markus leaned forward urging, “Give it a try.”
Giselle felt her old loyalty surge and she groaned, “There’s more to it than that, Markus.”
Vincenzo answered, “A Verona is born to uphold the Catholic faith for the people. We are the first true parishioners and our God-given gift is the bulwark against Church corruption. The backlash against us would make the Pope a political sitting duck, and ultimately the Catholic people would suffer from the fall of the Veronas.”
“You are holy?” Ivar furrowed his brow. “You are a saint? Verona men must be perfect to fight corruption?”
Frustrated, Vincenzo gestured speechlessly.
Ivar continued. “Ridiculous! Veronas are human. Even Jesus was human. Divine in nature, but a human man.”
Markus looked at Giselle, and she could tell he wanted to ask her to run away with him. But, instead, he turned to Vincenzo. “I only agreed to keep your secret because Salvio would have used it against your family as a weapon to take over Verdu Mer.”
Giselle shuddered.
Yvania sucked in a hiss. “Well, now he is dead, so that is no matter.”
“Vincenzo, I am not stupid,” Markus continued. “While Giselle and I are trapped here, you go to your shared apartment and sleep with Leonardo after another lie about all-night work sessions.”
Ivar stood up. “We are all tired. I wish each of you could go to bed and lay down with the person you love.”
Yvania positioned Ivar’s walker for him. “Come, now we all go to sleep.” She slid the doors open and led Ivar out.
As Giselle made her way alone to her own bed, she’d never felt so conflicted. Life had been simple before she descended those Metro stairs, then it had been a blur with the murder, the police, Markus being handcuffed, and his arm around her waist during the melee. It was all she could do not to turn and run down the palace hall to him now.
CHAPTER
5
The next morning, Giselle got a call from Leonardo asking to continue their discussion at the apartment. Under various pretenses, the six of them met secretly for breakfast. Giselle was grateful she didn’t have to lie to her in-laws. They were sleeping because they’d only arrived home a few hours before.
Giselle sat next to Markus and held his hand under the table. She took full advantage of her ability to act naturally with him in this private setting. For Markus’ part, after giving her a kiss that left her feeling woozy, he confined his contact to occasionally stroking her knuckles with his thumb, which was elevating her pulse.
Ivar took a bite of the pumpkin muffin Yvania had just taken out of the boys’ oven, and set it on his plate. “What if your coming out leads to much-needed Church reform?”
Leonardo almost choked on his muffin, and Yvania clapped him heartily on the back as she poured strong coffee into his cup. He swallowed, took a sip, and swallowed again. “Who says much needed?”
“Come on, you are young,” Markus said. “How can your beliefs be so antiquated?”
“The Holy doctrine will never include homosexuality,” Leonardo stated firmly.
Markus looked back and forth between Leonardo and Vincenzo. “The Vatican needs to change with mankind. The old dictate of ‘be fruitful and multiply’ and ‘every sperm is sacred’ has resulted in man’s mindless breeding. We are now a scourge of billions on our planet. Earth cannot sustain unlimited people bearing unlimited offspring and thoughtlessly consuming the last of our limited natural resources. Your ancient Catholic doctrine is illogical and dangerous to our planet today.”
Vincenzo leaned back looking repulsed. “That’s heresy!”
Ivar held up a finger. “Not heresy if it is irrefutable truth.”
“I refute it!” Vincenzo spat.
Markus said, “Next you will be saying you believe only Catholics are spiritually enlightened, and all other religions are damned.”
Leonardo was turning red. “Jesus said, ‘I am the way, the truth, and the life.’ The Catholic Church is the church He founded upon Peter, so any conflicting belief system is false.”
Markus shrugged. “Now, more than ever, people need to accept and embrace each other, not practice spiritual isolation. Religious dogma breeds distrust, hatred, segregation, murder, and war.”
Yvania plopped down next to Giselle and spooned some sugar into her cup. “I know what of war. Too much I know. I tell you, modern pipples are same as Bible pipples. This worlt needs the compassion.”
Giselle asked, “Ivar, do you mean that beyond coming out to Papa, Vincenzo should request reform?”
“Why not?” Markus’s brows drifted up.
Vincenzo shook his head. “My role is to support the Pope, not add to his burden.”
“Reexamining the definition of sin would cause confusion and fragmentation,” Leonardo said.
Ivar placed his hands flat on the table. “You have very little faith in your Church and your pope if you feel they could not survive some confusion and fra
gmentation.”
Markus reasoned, “Anything strong enough to spiritually guide millions should occasionally be tried in a fire of new understanding so the old can be burned away.”
“The Catholic Church isn’t a forest that needs fire to stay healthy.” Vincenzo put his hands up to silence the group. “I’m not going to question God and His blessed earthly solace, the Holy Catholic Church.”
“And rejecting birth control is not the root of the overpopulation problem.” Leonardo bristled. “The problem is irresponsible sex without the sanctity of…” He caught himself.
“Oh! You are a most handsome hypocrite!” Yvania crowed.
Giselle puffed out her cheeks and then lowered her eyes. “Well, I can tell you my defenses were no match for passion and love…”
Yvania pointed at Leonardo’s flat stomach under his tailored shirt. “If you were a woman, with these years of the sex, you would be havink at least eight bastard childs of Vincenzo by now!”
Vincenzo glanced at Giselle’s belly. “Gigi, you’re not committing the sin of birth control, are you?”
Giselle shook her head. “No. I’m Catholic…well, uh, at least, no…I haven’t compounded my sin of extramarital sex, with the sin of birth control. We’re being careful, and actually having so little alone time lately that it hasn’t been on my mind.”
“Speaking of overpopulation, give the Church credit for banning artificial insemination and preaching against medical science to create children.” Leonardo looked around the table and then sipped his coffee forlornly. “Our situation has no good outcome for the Church.”
Vincenzo opened his hands. “I’m praying with all my heart. God will guide me.”
Markus stood up to leave and reached his hand out for Giselle to join him. “Pray harder, Vincenzo. You need to set Giselle free.”
Yvania poked her finger in the air. “Speak truth and shame the devil.”
Ivar looked levelly at Vincenzo. “Another reform that the Pope should consider. That old superstition that there is a Satan and an actual Hell.”
Leonardo looked horrified. “What did they teach you in the Ukraine?”
Expertly diverting the subject, Vincenzo looked over at Giselle. “We’re expected at the wedding in Prague at eight, so let’s leave the house at five to make sure we arrive on time.”
“Right. I’d better get to work at Verdu Mer,” she said as she stood to go.
At the construction site, her work took longer than she’d planned, so it was three thirty when she raced through the palazzo’s halls to her bedroom. She burst in, and Nigella appeared from the closet.
Giselle threw herself into a chair, and Nigella began unlacing her boots. “Nothing to worry about. Your dress is ready, and your accessories are laid out.”
She was ready on time, and their jet raced toward Prague right on schedule. Relaxing back into a luxurious seat she kicked off her heels, stretched out her legs, and wiggled her bare toes. “With my recent work at the site, I’ve gotten used to wearing flat boots.”
Vincenzo sat down next to her, his tie not yet tied, and handed her a glass of water. His glass contained amber liquid. “I’m all for comfort. You look stunning, Gigi. I’m proud to have you on my arm.” He turned sideways to face her. “Can you honestly say you won’t miss being my wife?”
The question struck a nerve. “What did you just ask me?”
“I get to ask you that question.”
“Careful, V. Don’t get swept up because we’re playing the perfect couple again tonight.”
She got up and eased past him. “Excuse me. I need some space.”
When they arrived at the wedding, they were blinded by camera strobes flashing out of the darkness. Not for the first time, Giselle felt guilty about stealing the spotlight from the person she was showing up to celebrate—in this case, the bride.
The wedding ceremony was brief by royal standards, and dinner was a bounteous affair. But Vincenzo was trying too hard to enjoy himself. He never drank when he attended events, so she was surprised he downed the proffered champagne toast to the couple, on top of several glasses of wine with dinner. She discretely pinched his thigh as he accepted an after-dinner brandy from a waiter.
When the evening gave way to dancing, Vincenzo led her onto the floor as the orchestra began playing “At Last.” She was aware of the approving glances as he pulled her against him.
“What are you doing?” she whispered as he leaned down and grazed her neck with his lips.
“Dancing with the most beautiful woman in the world.” His lips moved subtly over her skin, giving her goose bumps in spite of her irritation.
“Compliments aren’t going to distract me from the question.”
“Come on, Gigi,” he whispered in her ear, “don’t you find me attractive?”
Dancing right next to the bride’s parents, she didn’t want to make a scene. “You’re gorgeous, but that’s beside the point.”
“Tonight, we’re on our own.”
“Except for the bodyguards, a few hundred of Europe’s high society, and media photographers.”
She could smell the hard edge of the brandy on his breath when he pulled back to look her in the eye. “Don’t forget, they expect us to touch each other and to kiss.” To her surprise, he kissed her full on the mouth. Mindful of the heads turning in her periphery, she let him. She drew back and kissed him softly on the cheek.
“Ask Cassandra’s mother to dance next.” Then she glided past the men reaching their hands out to dance with her next, and walked to the powder room.
Half an hour later, Vincenzo sought her out. “I don’t feel so good. I think we should go home now.”
She nodded and followed him through the crowd, which was getting a bit raucous at this late point in the evening. On the plane, Giselle and Vincenzo went to the bedroom and laid down on the luxurious bed. She hugged him as he slurred apologies. He was a wreck. She murmured into his ear as he cupped her breast, “Poor, V. You don’t know whether to wind your watch or try for third base. Get some sleep.”
Alphonso climbed out of the boat that had ferried them and all the locksmith equipment to Raphielli’s water garage. Zelph was already out and then jumped aboard a sleek boat that was bobbing in its slip.
“Holy shit!” Zelph cried. “It’s a Riva Iseo speedboat!” He was touching the controls like he couldn’t believe it was real. “This is worth like three hundred thousand euros! Oh, my fucking God! I’m so hard right now!”
“Eh! Eh! Get a hold of yourself and get outta Salvio’s boat!” Alphonso was embarrassed watching his cousin disrespect one of Raphielli’s possessions. “Forget you saw the…”
“Riva Iseo!” Zelph enthused.
“Forget you saw it.”
“Not a chance. There’s no chance if I live to be...” Apparently, he realized he’d pushed Alphonso to the limit. “No, you’re right. Sorry, Al. I’m cool.”
The hired boat’s crew helped them take Zelph’s supplies up the stairs to the palazzo’s front door, and both cousins toted backpacks containing compasses, measuring tapes, laser levels, stud finders, and graph paper to begin their new exploration project.
As they ascended from the garage and up the steps to the formal entrance, Alphonso said, “I can’t wait to start mapping this old place. I don’t know about you, but I used to stare at this palazzo when I was little and think of ghosts floating around the halls. I never thought I’d go inside, much less get to investigate every part of it.”
Zelph wagged his finger at his cousin. “Don’t try to throw me off the scent, lover boy. I know you’re more excited to spend time with Raphielli than you are to wander around her empty house.”
“Yeah, what of it?”
“Well, you’d never met a woman virtuous enough for you, and now you’ve found one. But, I don’t know how you’re going to get on that.” Zelph mimed the bodacious curves of Raphielli’s body.
“Aay!” Alphonso shot him a dark look. “None of that talk.
”
“I’m sorry I said it like that. I respect her. Really, I do. Raphielli’s special. And while I have no idea how you’re gonna break through her barriers—emotional and Catholic—she’s worth it.”
“I’m doing my best, Cuz.”
They thanked the boat crew, who left them at the main entrance, and as Zelph twisted the bell key he asked, “How old do you think Dante is?”
Just then the door opened, and Dante greeted them formally. “Buongiorno, signori.” He stood to the side, opening the door wide.
“Buongiorno, Dante. We’re here to get started while Raphielli’s at the shelter. She said she’d join us this afternoon.”
“Bensì,” Dante answered.
“Is the houseman around, by chance?”
“Sì, Luiz is working on part of the east drain.”
“Can we talk to him?”
Dante closed and relocked the door. “Sì, come this way.” He led them down a servant’s hallway where every door was marked with little placards. “Boot Room,” “Butler’s Pantry,” “Dry Goods Storage,” “Proofing Room,” “Poultry Storage,” “Dry-Curing Locker,” and an arrow pointed down a whitewashed hall on the sign reading “Laundry Rooms.” Alphonso thought of the battalions of servants who used to move about these passages.
Later, when Raphielli found them, Alphonso was watching Zelph open a lock on a mysterious old door between a greenhouse filled with dead trees and a closet.
She asked, “How’s the mapping project?”
“It’s slow going. Most of the wings are locked tight with mechanisms ranging in age from the nineteen hundreds to positively ancient,” Zelph said. “As with everything in your palazzo, the doors and locks are unbelievably sturdy.”
“We walked around for hours to get the lay of the place. It’s like a maze. Crazy.”
Raphielli felt a chill and buttoned her sweater. “I heard Salvatore say the palace has been added on to every hundred years or so.”
“I believe it. No sane person would have set out to design a place like this. We’re just getting started trying the locks,” Alphonso said. “We talked to Luiz, your maintenance man. Do you know he’s never been given a set of keys to this place?”
Storming Venice Page 11
