Storming Venice

by Anna E Bendewald

“Um, my husband snuck up behind me and…” She couldn’t talk past the lump in her throat. She covered her face with her hands and started to cry.

  Paloma moved to the chair next to her. “Oh, fuck! That’s fucked up!” When Raphielli cringed at her language, Paloma tried again. “Hey, it’s okay.” She patted her back, and then pulled her hand away. “Does this hurt?”

  “No,” Raphielli croaked.

  “So that’s why you were away from work for a few weeks?” Paloma went to a nearby table, grabbed the box of tissues, and dabbed at Raphielli’s tears while she held onto her neck and cried. Paloma pressed on. “Fuck! I mean, Christ. Where is he now?”

  Raphielli choked out, “The police are looking for him.”

  “He got away? Goddamn!”

  “At first the detective thought I was protecting…information about where he was hiding.” Raphielli accepted a tissue and blew her nose.

  “No!” Paloma shook her head incredulously. “Why would you protect him? He tried to murder you…like an executioner!” She put her hands to the side of her face and Raphielli thought she looked a bit like Munch’s painting The Scream.

  “The detective says lots of women protect their attackers.”

  Paloma made scrubbing motions in the air with her hands. “Not when they try to kill you.” Then she touched her own jaw. “Mind if I ask you why he did it?”

  “I wish I knew. Maybe because I can’t get pregnant, even though we kept trying…or he kept trying.”

  “Goddamn.” Paloma seemed to lose steam and sounded tired. “Milos flipped out that I was pregnant. Men.”

  “I’m sorry you lost your baby.”

  Paloma’s face crumpled. “Ah, ei-ei shit, well, ya know, I was so scared of how he’d take it. I waited for weeks after I found out I was pregnant…he’s knocked me around for a lot less…ya know?” She started to cry, then groaned and pressed a hand to her ribs.

  Raphielli reached out and took Paloma’s hand. “I can understand that. I was always so scared of Salvio that I never really said much to him. I knew he didn’t like me. And well, now, I guess…”

  Paloma wiped at her own tears and said, “Guess you found out he wants you dead.”

  Raphielli nodded.

  “Wait a minute, no way!” Paloma looked at her with admiration. “You’re the heiress in the news! Scortini!”

  Raphielli nodded.

  “And you’re working here?”

  “Well, I wanted to help other women who’ve suffered…have been abused.”

  “Hey, that’s really nice of you.” Paloma smiled. If her face hadn’t been beaten and she wasn’t puffy from crying, she would have looked pretty.

  Raphielli tossed her used tissues into the trashcan. “I’m sorry I got so emotional. I haven’t talked to anyone about what happened.”

  “Not to the therapist whats-her-name…Risinger…or Mia?” Paloma looked flattered. “Not even the police?”

  “No. I couldn’t use my voice for a while, so after they figured out what had happened to me, they just asked me to sign a statement. Everyone else knows what my husband did, so I haven’t had to tell about the…the…”

  “Horror?”

  “Sì. The horror.”

  “They haven’t found his body. Are you scared he’ll come back and kill you?”

  “You’re about to arrange to get into bed with a man who did worse to you. Aren’t you scared?”

  “I, uh, I don’t have an answer for that.” She looked confused.

  “Do you want to stay here till you can tell me how what our men did to us is so different? Till you can tell me why you feel I’m in more danger than you?”

  “Yesterday was my last day of medical observation, so I’ve gotta bail Milos out, today. He’ll be furious if I could check myself out of here but left him in jail.”

  “The hospital only made minimum recommendations. You can stay here as long as you need to, and you’re safe here. How about you take a few days to not think about Milos. Spend some time sorting out what you’ve been through? Do you have nightmares?”

  “Ugh. Even after my black eyes heal I’ll still have dark circles underneath. Sleep is the absolute worst. Worse than nightmares…more like night tortures. He’s jumping up and down on me and my baby and I’m breaking…” Paloma’s breath hitched in her throat and then she started sobbing. That got Raphielli started again, and they held each other as they cried.

  The emotional outpouring was a wet, loud ordeal for Raphielli. The tide of her anguish would just start to ebb, when Paloma would begin afresh, and she’d find herself swept away on a powerful riptide of pain. Together they weathered the storm, emptying the tissue box in the process, and when they finally opened the door, Kate was absent. Raphielli walked Paloma down the hall to join the therapy group already in session, and then returned to the office.

  Kate looked up, and her face softened when she saw Raphielli’s puffy eyes, red nose, and tear-stained face. “I’m sorry I had to do it that way.”

  Raphielli felt defensive and found herself jutting her chin out. She knew it was unfair to equate what had just happened with the treatment she’d always received from the Dour Doublet, but that was what came to mind. “I know I’m young, and I know I’ve been sheltered, but I’m pretty intelligent, Kate.”

  “Sì, my dear, you are those things and more.”

  “I mean, I know it helped me to say it to someone, and it might really help Paloma, too.”

  “I believe it was our best chance to save her life. None of us could get through to her. But you did.”

  Raphielli nodded as she picked up her scarf from her desk, wrapped it around and around her neck, and gently tied it in place. For a scary moment, she felt she might start bawling again, as if now that the dam had broken she’d lost her reserve of control.

  Kate looked her over. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? I’m sure that was exhausting.”

  “No, I’ll get cleaned up, and maybe join the next therapy session.” She hesitated for a moment. “Your asking for my scarf felt like being tipped off a cliff. I’d have liked some warning.”

  “It wouldn’t have worked.” Kate looked at her with sad eyes. “You’d have clung to the cliff when what you needed to do was let yourself go.”

  “That’s true. I would have.” She went to the bathroom and splashed water on her face. She felt fragile, and the contessas were still on her mind. While drying her face and hands, Raphielli set her mind to finding Giselle somehow.

  By the time Alphonso came to walk her home, her preoccupation with Juliette and Giselle’s sudden retreat had deepened. As they turned down the first calle, she glanced furtively around. While she knew it was unlikely, the idea that the lurking men had kidnapped her friends made her slip her arm inside Alphonso’s and press close to him.

  “What?” He looked down at her. “What’s bothering you?”

  “Juliette and Giselle have canceled their volunteering indefinitely, and I can’t reach them to find out why.”

  “Well, they’re busy women. You know…”

  “I tried Juliette’s cell and Ippy stonewalled me.”

  “Ippy?”

  “Juliette’s assistant. And I went to the homeless shelter but got the same response—no explanation. It’s making me paranoid.” She glanced behind them.

  “Sì, you sound paranoid. Honey, the Veronas fly constantly. When I was surveilling them, I had to be aware of who was heading for a helipad or a private airstrip. Those women could be anywhere.”

  “You don’t think they’ve been kidnapped?”

  “Kid…oh wow, you need to relax. Did you talk to Fauve or Carolette?”

  “I couldn’t reach Carolette, but Fauve said she didn’t have any news. I asked her for Gigi’s number, but she said she’s never given out Gigi’s number without her permission. Gigi has to give it to me herself.”

  “Let’s get your mind off conspiracy theories. I can tell you about the adventure I had today.”
/>   “Oh?”

  “Well, not really an adventure. I tried installing a lock kit. Zelph makes it look so easy. But I put it in backward.”

  “Can a lock be installed backward?”

  “As I found out, it can, it surely can. I closed the door to check it and locked myself in. I pounded and hollered until Guiseppe heard me.”

  She found herself smiling by the time they climbed the steps of the palazzo. “Thank goodness you were found. Can you imagine if you’d gone missing? I’d freak out if everyone around me suddenly disappeared.”

  Dante opened the door, and Zelph was standing behind him. As Dante took their coats, Zelph shared his news. “Carolette just called and invited me to France.”

  Alphonso raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like it’s getting serious.” Then he pointed at his cousin. “Don’t play with her heart. She acts like a femme fatale, but I think underneath, Carolette’s a good person.”

  “I’m really into her,” Zelph said. “I promise. Anyway, I’ve been invited to go with her to the Forêt château. Giselle is throwing a dinner party.”

  Raphielli came alive. She’d been kicking off one of her boots and had to hang on to the wall to keep from falling. “Santa Maria! She’s gone back to France? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Why not?” Alphonso asked.

  She gestured with her boot in her hand and it flopped like a deflated balloon. “Because…now…she needs to be here in Venice near her doctor.”

  Both men gave her blank looks.

  “Don’t tell anyone, but Giselle is pregnant. And I’m going to that party,” she said firmly. “I’m going to ask her myself what’s going on with her and Juliette. And I’m getting her personal number.”

  Alphonso was looking at her with a mixture of concern and surprise.

  “What?” She tried to sound worldly. “I can jet set, too. I’m a freakin’ heiress.”

  “Did you just use jet set as a verb?”

  “I sure did. The Scortinis have an account for a private plane service. I saw it in Salvio’s files. I’m going to charter my first jet.” She tossed her boot toward the cloakroom for emphasis and started to pull off the other one.

  “We’ll need a car for when we land.”

  “I’ll rent one.” She slung her purse over her shoulder. “I have credit cards, charge cards, debit cards, cash, whatever it takes.”

  Alphonso whipped out his phone.

  “Who are you calling?” she asked.

  “No one. I always check the weather to see what to pack when I travel.”

  “Oh good, you’re coming, too?”

  “Absolutely. I want to get inside that château for once instead of crouching around in the bushes and trying to look in the windows while Giselle and her friends are having all the fun.” He glanced at his phone. “Woah! It’s really cold in Gernelle, and the forecast says it’ll snow all week. We’ll have to fly in between storms.”

  “I’ve got proper clothes now.” She turned to Dante who was hovering by the door, “Get me a suitcase from the luggage room and bring it to my suite.” Then she turned back to Alphonso. “Come help me pack.”

  “Pack layers so you’ll be ready for anything,” he said as both he and Zelph followed her back to her suite.

  Zelph said, “Yeah, she’s a freakin’ heiress.” Then laughed quietly.

  CHAPTER

  14

  Markus opened his eyes and looked around, orienting himself to his surroundings. Early dawn light was beginning to paint the walls of the bedroom, while night still darkened the corners. Giselle was astride him and, apparently, his body had responded to her needs before his brain woke up. He reached out to stroke the smooth skin of her thighs and cup her beautiful derriere as she rode him dreamily. When their hunger for one another was sated, they fell back asleep for a few more hours. Once dressed and down in the kitchen, they went about making breakfast.

  He said, “I am happy to wait on you. I am not the cook that Yvania is, but I am not bad, either.”

  “That’s a sweet offer. Maybe when I’m closer to term I’ll sit back and rub my big belly while you bring me food, but today I want to make breakfast with you. I love puttering around this kitchen.”

  During breakfast, they decided that checking on Star Fall should be their first order of business. After washing the dishes, they put their coats on, collected the shed key from one of the pegs by the kitchen door, and headed out into what felt like the middle of winter. The sky was a leaden grey, the air was heavy with the scent of smoke from the fireplaces, and the deep green boughs of the forest were barely visible beyond the blowing snow.

  They walked across the courtyard, heading straight for the prefab shed that had been hurriedly erected around Star Fall at the behest of Gabrieli and the Pope. The two had demanded she halt work on the sculpture, and cut off her objections when they discovered the lethal nature of the irrodium vials jutting out of the metal struts. Markus knew that leaving Star Fall unfinished depressed her, but he was relieved to abandon it.

  Stepping into the shed, they were bathed in the glow of Star Fall. Its graceful steel arches soared high overhead, and studded throughout were fanciful copper curlicues and glass stars filled with a lethal chemical that radiated a soft pink glow. Her inspiration had been embers falling from an exploded firework and, standing in the dark, Markus thought she’d nailed it.

  “One day we’ll finish this and transport it to Le Centre Pompidou for its unveiling.” Giselle sighed.

  Markus slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her back. “I must ask you to dream from a safe distance.” He walked over to check on the shed’s back door latch that Selma had complained about, and with one finger he flicked the flimsy latch open, then slipped it back into place. They should replace it soon. He turned to Giselle. “Okay? Now you have seen that your sculpture is intact, our work here is done.”

  He kissed her cheek, then took her hand and led her out the front door of the shed, pulling the door closed behind them. They walked to the greenhouse that had served as their workshop.

  “Can you make some calls and get our supplies shipped from the studio in Venice?” Giselle asked.

  “Ivar has offered to manage that for us.”

  As they headed out of the greenhouse, she giggled.

  “What is funny?”

  She turned and pointed to the flakes of snow that had landed on her face. “These flakes are huge. It’s like I’m being hit with feathers from a flock of molting geese overhead.”

  He stepped out from the protection of the awning and into a flurry of snow. “They do look like feathers.”

  The snowflakes melted on their lashes and cheeks, leaving big drops of water. They were wet before they made it back to the kitchen door. He said, “I thought we had left rain-soaked Venice behind us.”

  Giselle’s phone came to life with Vincenzo’s personal ring tone playing USA for Africa’s “We Are the World.” Looking relieved, she tapped the speaker button so Markus could hear. “Hey, how’re you doing, V?”

  “Better now, hearing your voice.” He sounded tired. “How are you feeling, little mama?”

  “I don’t want to say. It’ll sound insensitive.”

  “Please, give me some good news. I need to know I’ve finally done right by you.”

  “Well then, if you can handle it, I’m in heaven.” She grinned. “A bit of morning sickness, but being back home and settling in with Markus is dreamy.”

  “Oh, ‘settling in.’ Is that what you’re busy doing?” His voice still sounded tired but it had a teasing lilt.

  “Mmm, ouais,” she said and laughed coquettishly.

  He sighed. “Well Gigi, it’s positively funereal over here. My sins are so heavy on the family, and papa especially.”

  “Hey, don’t let me hear you use the word ‘sin’ when it comes to your love for Leonardo. Other Catholics can use that word, but don’t you ever do it.”

  “Okay, agreed. I called to tell you what I’ve d
one.”

  “What’ve you done?”

  “When we married and your family’s remaining assets transferred to me, I invested that money. This morning I’ve placed those assets, plus dividends from the investments, plus interest, and the house in Paris into a trust that no one can take away from you.”

  “Merci.”

  Markus felt awkward butting into their financial discussions, but he had to say something. “Ciao, Vincenzo. I am on the line, too.”

  “Ciao, Markus.”

  “You have been a good financial manager. Now she will have no worries about taking care of this home and property.”

  Vincenzo said, “And now I feel better.”

  Giselle said, “Be gentle with yourself, Vincenzo. You’re not a sinner. Go to Leonardo, and take some time supporting each other, okay?”

  “He’s right here. And now that I’ve told you your news, we’re going to get some more work done.”

  Giselle was pleased her financial house was in order and spent the afternoon anticipating her friends’ arrival. Together with Selma and Markus, they prepared food and lit fires to warm the château. There was nothing like the sense of cozy hibernation that began to steal over the estate in winter.

  The gang arrived in a group, everyone bearing food and hurrying inside. The flurries of snow that had been falling since noon began dumping down in a snowstorm.

  Solange was wearing a heavy wool coat that looked like an Indian horse blanket. Laetitia, who’d missed her calling as a catwalk model, came through the door all legs and white teeth, her brown hair tucked up in a fuzzy Nordic hat with tassels down the sides. Her brothers, twins Auguste and Robert, were right behind her with Selma’s boyfriend Fabrice, the whole bunch looking all pink-cheeked and laughing at something.

  Fauve and Henri juggled parcels of goodies to eat and drink, and Henri announced, “We have a surprise. Carolette brought a boyfriend.”

  “Oui, mon cher, they already know about Zelph.” Fauve cut him off waving excitedly and then rushed up to Giselle. “No, the surprise is that Raphielli is here with Alphonso.”

  As if on cue, Carolette burst through the door dramatically. “Holy shit! It’s really snowing!” She went straight to the hall mirror and checked out her adorably mussed beehive hairdo. She whipped a rat-tailed comb out of her bag and stabbed at her hair. “I’ve got to look good for my future husband, Zelph. He should be pulling up in the driveway.”