Cosa Nostra by Emma Nichols) 16656409 (z-lib.org) (1)-compressed

by Неизвестный

  auditorium, then the front two rows of the upper circle above them to the

  left forming a shorter arc above the lower stalls. Was she looking for

  Simone? Carmen started to sing, but Maria continued to scan the rows.

  Patrina leaned towards her and whispered, “You seem unsettled.”

  Maria shook her head and turned towards Patrina. “It pays to be

  vigilant.”

  Patrina smiled. “Maybe that’s why I always feel safe around you,

  Maria.”

  Maria kept her expression blank, unmoved by the compliment.

  “What’s the price?”

  “Shh!” Patrina brought her index finger to her lips and smiled. “I

  want to enjoy the opera.” She turned to the stage, closed her eyes, and

  swayed her head, drifting with the resonance of the song.

  Maria watched Patrina, the gnawing in her gut reminding her that

  Patrina would decide when she would reveal the price and nothing Maria

  did or said was going to speed up that process. Powerlessness fused with

  rage, and she gritted her teeth. She turned to face the stage and tried to

  distract her growing irritation with Patrina. Any other time, with anyone

  else at her side, this would have been a poignant and pleasurable evening.

  Instead, she was a caged tiger, trapped in the illusion of safety and comfort,

  and fighting an overpowering drive to leave its enclosure. As the music

  gave way to dialogue, unable to settle, she looked around the auditorium

  again.

  Maria squinted to look more closely at the woman in an exquisite

  red dress seated in the back row of the stalls, bounded on both sides by men

  in black evening suits. The light from the stage danced off her, drawing

  Maria’s attention only to her. The dress reminded Maria of the vibrant red

  of the Love Couture orchid, bright and alluring. She narrowed her eyes

  further and refocused. Simone? She shuddered. Simone moved to sit upright

  and craned to see the stage, clearly engrossed in every detail of the

  performance. She made small movements, as if breathing through the

  emotion of the song. Her lips parted, her fingers moved to cover her mouth,

  and she brushed at her cheek just below her eye. She toyed with the wavy

  bangs that hung full and freely to her neck. Maria watched her, absorbed by

  the beauty that radiated from her. Simone rubbed at her eyes again, though

  they never left the stage.

  Maria’s heart raced, light and airy, as she watched Simone enjoying

  the opera. There was something pure and innocent about her. She wondered

  if she had ever been to an opera before, and a prickling sensation jabbed

  Maria in the chest. She felt the ache in her heart rise to form tears. She

  swallowed hard, snapped her head towards the stage, and took a deep

  breath. What the fuck was that about?

  Patrina wiped a cotton handkerchief at her tears, but her practised

  show of emotion failed to touch Maria in the same way watching Simone

  had. The realisation clamped hard against her chest.

  As the curtains closed for the interval, the lights came up, and

  Maria’s attention was drawn to the movement at the back of the stalls.

  Simone was making her way out of the auditorium. There was no mistaking

  her. Simone glanced up to the box. A shiver passed across Maria’s skin, and

  she became aware that Patrina was watching her.

  Patrina stood but not before scanning the stalls and frowning. Maria

  rose and made her way from the box down the stairs and towards the bar,

  searching for sight of Simone’s distinctive dress. She saw a flash of red

  disappear into the bathroom and felt her breath swiftly leave her.

  “Bona sira, Mayor. Contessa,” Patrina said. “How are you enjoying

  the opera this evening? Do let me get you both a drink.”

  Maria smiled cordially at the mayor and his wife. “Good evening,

  Mayor. Contessa.”

  “Good evening, ladies. How very kind of you, Lady Patrina. I have

  some good news regarding your new development plans,” Marino said as

  they made their way through the crowded space.

  “That is excellent news, Mayor, excellent indeed. Don Stefano will

  be pleased to hear that things are progressing.”

  They approached the bar. Maria placed a hand on Patrina’s arm to

  get her attention and smiled at Marino and his wife. “If you’ll excuse me, I

  need the bathroom.”

  Patrina nodded and continued attending to the drinks.

  Maria made her way back through the crowded bar with a sense of

  urgency. She went through the bathroom door so quickly that the woman

  stood at the sink jolted and snapped her head up sharply. Maria smiled as

  she took in the stunning red dress and then her smile faded. Simone’s

  cheeks were tear-stained, and the tenderness in her dark eyes clearly

  affected by the performance. Something moved inside Maria, and the

  disconcerting feeling was accompanied by an uncharacteristic surge of heat

  to her cheeks. “Sorry, I startled you.”

  Another woman entered and shuffled quickly into a toilet cubicle.

  Simone gripped the sink with her right hand. “Donna Maria.”

  Simone’s response was clipped and mildly accusatory. She could

  understand Simone being pissed at her for not standing up for her at the

  café, but if she had threatened Alessandro on his turf it would have made

  matters far worse for them both.

  “I…I’m sorry, we haven’t been properly introduced.” Maria never

  stuttered. Simone inhaled through her nose and drew herself up in stature.

  She looked as though she was trying to be strong.

  “I’m Simone.”

  Maria took a step closer, and Simone flinched. “I won’t hurt you,”

  Maria whispered. She pulled the silk handkerchief from her breast pocket,

  stepped closer, and held it out. Simone didn’t move. “Please, take it.”

  She took it and pressed it against her face. She seemed to inhale

  before opening her eyes and becoming suddenly self-aware. She held the

  handkerchief out in front of her for Maria to take.

  The toilet flushed and the woman made her way to the sink. She

  smiled at Maria. “Good evening, Donna Maria,” she said.

  Maria didn’t know her but smiled politely. “Good evening.”

  Simone withdrew her hand clasping the handkerchief, and Maria

  smiled at her. The woman stared at Simone as she washed her hands.

  Simone seemed to resume breathing after the woman left the bathroom and

  held out the handkerchief again. Maria smiled. So innocent. “Please, keep

  it.”

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  Maria gestured to Simone’s face. “Are you okay?”

  Simone lowered her head. “The story of Carmen is very sad.”

  “It’s very romantic too.”

  “It is about betrayal and a crime of passion.” Simone laughed gently.

  Maria tilted her head to the side. The lightness of Simone’s response

  had an uplifting effect. “You are right, of course.”

  Simone appeared to assess Maria, perhaps reconsidering her

  perspective from the café. Maybe one formed even before they had first

  met. Maria stared at her, wanting desperately to know her thoughts. She

  trembled inside. And, if she wasn’t mistaken,
there was an emotional

  connection between them in the way Simone looked at her. And the way

  Simone’s eyes evaded hers and yet her skin flushed, and her lips quivered

  as she spoke.

  “You enjoy the opera?” Simone asked, and her blush deepened.

  Maria smiled. Usually. “Yes. You?”

  “I have never been before. This is a birthday present.”

  “Are you here with anyone?”

  She shook her head. Maria observed the softness of Simone’s skin,

  the tenderness of lips that seemed fragile, and her bright eyes now the

  dampness from the tears had dried. She wondered what had caused the faint

  scaring over her eye and felt a twist in her gut. She glanced away to control

  the protective instinct before returning to face Simone. “You were given a

  wonderful gift.”

  “I should get back. It will be starting again soon.”

  She picked up her clutch bag and seemed to hesitate before taking a

  step towards the door that Maria stood in front of. Maria realised she was

  blocking the exit, cleared her throat, and stepped aside. “I’m sorry.” She

  reached into her pocket and pulled out a business card. “Please, take this. If

  you ever need help, call me.”

  Simone took it. She looked up at Maria and slipped the card in her

  bag.

  Maria leaned towards her. “Promise me you will call.”

  Simone avoided Maria’s eyes. “I will,” she whispered.

  Maria opened the door, and Simone disappeared from view. She

  closed the bathroom door and leaned against it, recovering her racing heart.

  The silky feeling flowing through her was alien and alarming. She rolled

  her tongue around her dry mouth. She went to the sink, and ran the cool

  water over her hands, then patted them dry with a towel.

  She returned to the bar, thoughts of Simone distracting her from

  conversation which passed over and around her. Why did it feel like she

  was swimming in shark infested waters without a harpoon? Simone was no

  physical threat. No woman was. But that wasn’t the problem. Simone was

  far more dangerous. Simone had awoken something within her that she

  hadn’t felt before, not even with the woman smiling at her now with a

  quizzical look. She smiled at Patrina, hoping not to reveal the weakness she

  felt.

  They returned to the box to watching the remainder of the

  performance. When it ended, everyone rose for a standing ovation before

  the curtains closed, and the lights came up. The auditorium was alive with

  an excited air of appreciation as people rose slowly from their seats and

  started to make their way out. Maria watched Simone staring, looking

  almost bereft, at the stage, and then she glanced towards the box. Maria felt

  Simone’s intensity in a silent gasp and quickly looked away. Patrina was

  looking at her again, and she turned to face her with an affected smile.

  Patrina eyed her suspiciously. “You see something of interest?”

  Maria’s lips thinned as she shook her head. “No. You?”

  Patrina’s eyes hovered on Maria’s breasts before descending to her

  crotch. She raised her eyebrows. “Always.”

  Maria released her tension through a long breath grateful that

  Patrina hadn’t noticed Simone. She reluctantly pulled her thoughts back to

  business and ignoring Patrina’s attempt to seduce her, she plucked the

  champagne from the ice bucket and poured them a final drink. She wanted

  to give Simone time to leave without being seen by Patrina, who was

  clearly enjoying making Maria wait for her decision on retribution for

  Vittorio’s transgression. “So?”

  Patrina sipped at her glass. “This is a good year.”

  Maria glimpsed Simone exiting the auditorium through the corner of

  her eye and smiled at Patrina. Now she could concentrate. “You are right.

  It’s the best.”

  Darkness appeared in the emptiness that sat behind Patrina’s eyes.

  This is it.

  “I need a favour, bedda.”

  “What do you need, Patrina?”

  “Alessandro is very upset. Inconsolable, in fact.”

  Maria would have rolled her eyes if it hadn’t given away her

  contempt for the fat pig. “What would make Alessandro happy, Patrina?”

  Patrina looked away. The last few people milled around in the stalls

  below them, and the air was cooling considerably.

  “He wants to make the business a success, Maria. You know how it

  is. Increasing profitability is important to him. He needs to show his uncle

  that he is a good businessman, and that he can handle the responsibility his

  birth has afforded him.”

  “You know I can’t let him supply the Riverside.”

  Patrina sighed heavily. “I know, I know. That leaves us in a tricky

  position, Maria. What can I say?”

  Maria remained silent, knowing Patrina’s question was rhetorical.

  “Alessandro has a strong mind. He gets ideas in his head, and it can

  be hard to deflect him.”

  “If anyone can refocus him, you can, Patrina. He will listen to your

  reasoning.”

  Patrina winced. “Well… maybe, before…”

  Before the night I walked out on you. Patrina was never going to

  take the spurned woman role easily. Patrina closed the space between them,

  forcing Maria to the back of the box and into the closed door, obscuring

  them from the view of potential onlookers.

  Her warm breath brushed Maria’s cheek, starting a war between the

  sick feeling in her stomach and the throbbing sensation between her legs.

  Maria held back a groan as Patrina’s soft lips skimmed her neck. Hairs rose

  up her neck, and her spine tingled. Patrina eased Maria’s shirt from her

  trousers and slipped her hand beneath the sheer material. Maria tensed.

  Patrina grazed the skin around Maria’s waist with her fingertips, and Maria

  couldn’t stop a soft moan escaping.

  Patrina unzipped Maria’s trousers with her other hand. Maria’s body

  betrayed her head, and she gave Patrina the warmth she’d clearly hoped had

  called her there. Patrina eased her fingers into Maria’s silky wetness,

  drawing a restrained gasp.

  She leaned closer to Maria, nibbled her ear, and whispered, “We

  have unfinished business, bedda.”

  Maria winced. Hate rose inside her for what she knew she would

  have to do to settle this fucking debt, hate for Vittorio. But even more

  excruciating was the hate she had for herself. The only real power Patrina

  held over her she would willingly execute, and if Maria didn’t comply, there

  would be bloodshed. This was about Maria’s family. Stability. Stopping a

  war between their clans. Simone’s image came to her and self-hate turned to

  revulsion. Fucking Vittorio. “Not here, Patrina. Not now.”

  Patrina removed her hand from Maria’s crotch, slowly did up the

  zip, and brought her fingers, slick with Maria’s wetness, to her mouth.

  “Sweet.”

  Maria feigned interest, trying not to vomit the bile that had crept

  into her throat. This is the price. This will always be the price.

  Patrina pressed her finger to Maria’s lips. “The penthouse suite.

  Tomorrow at two.”

  The aroma of her s
ex wafted temptingly in the air, and Maria

  nodded.

  Did she have a choice?

  9.

  Ten kilometres in a record time of forty-seven minutes and twenty-

  six seconds. Maria stopped the clock and breathed deeply. She could never

  work hard enough for long enough to rid herself of the anguish that meeting

  Patrina brought, but she could sure as hell burn off sufficient rage to keep

  her cool. She started to spar. Something didn’t feel right about the meeting.

  Patrina didn’t feel right. The vivid memory of their intimate exchange

  brought disgust and tightened her stomach. She trusted her gut. She

  punched the bag harder.

  Competing thoughts challenged her. If she could stop this now, they

  could go back to the harmonious relationship they enjoyed before her father

  died. Was that delusional? Was it possible to recreate the past? Not if

  Alessandro was taking a lead in the Amato business. He was on a different

  page. Simone was in danger. She drove a hard punch into the belly of the

  bag. That one’s for you, fat boy. She landed another hard punch that created

  a deep dent in the surface. She watched the bag slowly regain its shape.

  Minded of Alessandro’s stomach pressing against the table in the café, she

  punched the bag with as much force as she could muster. Her arms fell

  limply to her side, and she bent over. Her lungs burned as she inhaled

  deeply. She regained her breath, stood, and wiped the sweat from her face.

  The urge to punch Alessandro’s smug face flooded her again. She raised her

  fist to hit the bag again and stopped. Boxing in anger was never good

  practice. You could injure yourself. That’s the last thing I need.

  Arms drained of strength, she ambled into the villa and set the

  coffee to percolate, Simone’s eyes and the depth of emotion she had seen in

  them haunted her with an unsettled feeling. She picked up her phone to see

  a missed call from Giovanni. She would deal with that later. She typed out a

  text message to cancel the specialist appointment she had asked Rocca to

  arrange for later that evening and pressed send. Her phone beeped a

  response.

  Would you like me to rearrange?

  No.

  She slid her phone onto the breakfast bar and finished making coffee

  and looked up to see Giovanni’s car on the CCTV. No need to make that

  call. She ground more coffee beans and waited.