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

by Неизвестный

  Sobs rocked her body, and tears flooded her cheeks. She let them flow. She

  drew in a long deep breath and released it slowly. At least Maria had

  escaped the mafia, although she had paid the ultimate price.

  She studied the legal documents for the farmhouse. She smiled to

  herself. Maria was Mariella Sanchez. The property, the boat that Maria had

  commissioned that Simone would find moored in the port of Valencia, and

  the Swiss bank accounts. All of it untraceable. Maria, Mariella. She liked

  the way the name rolled off her tongue. She smiled at the passport with her

  own image in it and the unfamiliar name, Simonet Begnoit, issued in

  France. Maria had taken care of a new identity for her too. Maria had

  planned for them both to leave Sicily without being traced.

  She looked up. Roberto was watching her, his smile looked wistful,

  and his eyes weary with sadness.

  “You have to go, you know? You can start a new life where you will

  be able to live openly and freely. You can be yourself.”

  She lowered her head. She only wanted to be herself with Maria.

  The idea of any other lover wasn’t an option.

  He went to her and lifted her to her feet. “Hey, what is there to lose?

  Worse case, you take a holiday and you come home again. You’ve always

  wanted to see the ballet. Maria wanted that for you too. Why don’t you do it

  for her?” He shrugged.

  He was trying to smile, trying to be upbeat, she could see that. His

  eyes conveyed quietness and the steadiness that came with the

  responsibility he held. She had noticed that quality developing over the past

  months, and especially since he had taken the position as Giovanni’s right-

  hand man and started working on the construction of the tech park. He had

  grown up to the point of being unrecognisable to her. She stroked his clean-

  shaven cheek and smiled with a heavy heart. He was still her baby brother,

  and she would always love him for that. “It won’t be the same without her.”

  “I know.” He pulled her into his chest, held her tightly and pressed

  his lips to her forehead. “I love you, sis. I’m so sorry. I really liked her a

  lot,” he whispered in a broken voice.

  Simone closed her eyes. I loved her more than life. She pulled away,

  took a deep breath, and stared into his eyes. “I love you too.”

  He brushed a tear from her cheek. “She wanted you to have a new

  life, a good life.”

  She sighed. “I know.”

  He stroked the hair from her face.

  She sighed. “I will go to the ballet.”

  He let her go and smiled. “It will be good for you.”

  38.

  Simone ambled slowly up to the doors of the Palais Garnier,

  becoming more breathless as she adjusted to each aspect of the stunning

  Napoleon III style architecture. Statuesque, symmetrical columns formed

  the front façade, gilded figural groups crowned the apexes of the principle

  façades on the right and left side, and sculptured bronze busts of many of

  the great composers were located between the columns. It was striking as a

  building and inspirational as a representation of history.

  She stood and stared upwards, inhaling the warm, slightly humid

  Parisian air. The low, evening sun tingled her back and shoulders, and a

  light breeze refreshed her skin. A dark-haired woman wearing a suit caught

  her eye as she walked past in the direction of the theatre’s doors. She sighed

  and closed her eyes. The woman didn’t look anything like Maria.

  She took a deep breath, climbed the steps, and entered the opera

  house. Vast columns of gold towered above her, painted ceilings looked

  down on her, and bright light poured through her, illuminating the

  substantial central staircase that peeled off in two directions forming a

  bridge to the various theatre entrances. The back of her eyes burned, and

  her throat constricted. The awesomeness of the building’s magnificence was

  lessened considerably by the absence of Maria. Pleasure and sadness vied

  within her. Maria would want me to enjoy this.

  Simone shielded her heart with her hand and stood, transfixed by the

  intensity of the lively ambience in the foyer. She gazed around. A myriad of

  voices came and went. People moved around her casually, studying the

  ticket in their hands and pointing to the appropriate entrance for their seat

  location. Reminded of her need to find the box, she gathered herself and

  walked over to a woman dressed in an usher’s uniform. She held out her

  ticket.

  The woman’s uniform was smartly pressed, and she offered a warm

  smile. “Please, follow me.”

  Simone followed her up the stairs and then peeled off to the right.

  The woman opened the door and entered the box. Simone hesitantly

  stepped inside.

  The scene of her wishes struck her, Maria’s perfume came to her,

  and her eyes darted hopefully around the small space, hoping for the

  illusion to be true.

  A bottle of champagne rested on ice in a silver bucket to the side of

  a table. Two crystal glasses shimmered in the subdued lighting. Two high-

  back chairs decorated in ornate gold leaf trim and deep red suede leather

  were placed next to each other, the arms touching, orientated on a slight

  angle so that they were both directed towards the stage.

  She swallowed back the wave of sadness, turned swiftly to face the

  usher, and forced a smiled at the usher. The woman smiled back at her. It

  was probably the same smile she gave any guest. Polite but lacking.

  “Are you expecting a guest this evening, madame?”

  The question was perfectly normal, but it cut Simone in two, and

  she could barely breath to answer. “Um, no.”

  “Very well, madame. Is there anything else I can get for you?”

  Weakness moved through Simone, and she felt her knees giving

  way. She grabbed the back of the seat and took a slow breath. “Could I have

  a glass of water please?”

  The usher frowned. “Is everything—”

  “Yes, I’m fine, thank you.” Simone smiled and stood taller. She let

  go of the seat. The usher smiled and closed the door behind her. Simone

  turned back to the auditorium and stepped closer to the edge of the box. She

  scanned the bustling movement around her as guests took their seats in the

  circle and stalls below her. The warm air was constant, and perfumed, and

  heady. She closed her eyes and brushed her fingers across the gold trim.

  The sensual feel of the suede against her sensitive fingers caught her breath.

  She stiffened her back and her eyes opened. The image of Maria came to

  her in a flash of desperation, then it disappeared. She searched the

  auditorium and became quickly overcome by a dense feeling of exhaustion.

  Anger boiled below the surface of her unfulfilled wishes. She sat, closed

  her eyes, and inhaled deep slow breaths. Why did I come here?

  Musical notes started up in harmony from the pit at the front of the

  stage; violins, joined by wind instruments, and then percussion, and

  Simone’s heart eased into a soft, gentle rhythm. She opened her eyes and

  stared at the stage. The increasing complexity of the sounds, the musky<
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  scent that was the building’s unique signature, and the subdued lighting that

  seemed to compliment the orchestra’s resonance as they prepared for the

  first act, swept her away.

  Then the music shifted in tone, sending a message to those who

  lingered to take their seats, and she smiled. Mumbling voices became

  quieter, deeper in tone, and the lights dimmed lower. A hum of anticipation

  arose from below her, lifting the air to dance around the room.

  Simone didn’t respond to the soft click of the door.

  The glass of water appeared in her peripheral vision and was placed

  on the table. The fingers clasped around the glass registered as vaguely

  familiar, and then there was the unexpected pressure on her shoulder that

  jolted her to look up. She blinked repeatedly, then the force of her head

  spinning fully around in recognition threw her to her feet. Her hand

  smothered her gasp. The thundering behind her ribs pounded erratically. No

  words came to her. She became rigid, and no breath moved within her. She

  stared wide eyed and trembling.

  No, no. it can’t be you.

  The thought had become concrete in her mind, but she couldn’t trust

  her vision. This was a mirage. A dream she so passionately desired to be

  tangible. She shook her head and stared intently.

  Maria smiled at Simone and looked into her eyes.

  The black tuxedo with a crisp white shirt and a bright red bowtie,

  just as Maria had worn the first time that she set eyes on her looked very

  real. Simone reached out and tentatively made contact with the fine

  material. She swept her hands slowly over Maria’s body, warm to the touch.

  She inhaled sharply as if she were taking her final breath. She shook her

  head and took a step back. She leaned forwards and blinked. Then a flash of

  fire rose up, and she slapped Maria around the face.

  The sting burned and watered Maria’s eyes, and she cupped her

  cheek. “I’m sure I deserved that.” She smiled as Simone gasped and then

  tumbled into her arms. Simone caressed her cheek frantically, earnestly, and

  then tenderly, and it felt so good to be touched.

  “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to… What? How?”

  Simone stuttered.

  She shook her head, and her fingers trembled as she touched Maria’s

  face, her head, her shoulders, and her neck. Maria took Simone’s hand and

  placed it against her thundering chest. “You feel it beating?” Simone was

  looking her up and down, shaking her head, and frowning.

  “You’re alive?”

  The confusion Maria saw in Simone’s eyes seared through her chest

  and clamped her heart. “Just about.” Her dry mouth and tight throat and the

  fragility in her own voice, reflected the uncertainty she had lived through in

  the past months.

  Simone’s hand tensed, and her eyes narrowed, and then her teeth

  clenched. Maria feared another slap was coming and braced herself. And

  then Simone pulled back.

  “Why didn’t you contact me?”

  Simone’s tone held frustration and concern in equal measure.

  Maria’s lungs deflated from the punch, and she hoped Simone could see the

  ache in her heart that she would have to live with for the rest of her life.

  Profound sadness radiated from Simone’s eyes and ripped through Maria

  like locusts stripping a field of corn. She turned away and swallowed hard.

  “I must have no contact with Sicily, Simone. None.”

  Simone’s stare deepened the wound in Maria that would never heal.

  “What about your family?”

  Maria bowed her head and inhaled deeply. “It was the only way,

  Simone. My mother always expected this time would come.” She will

  grieve. “I took an opportunity that arose to create a future.” Maria felt the

  pressure tighten against her hand, and her heartbeat thumped harder against

  her ribs. Pain and joy burned behind her eyes. She tugged Simone to her

  chest and blinked as a tear slid down her cheek. Simone’s hair felt soft and

  silky at her fingertips. She kissed the top of her head.

  She hadn’t forgotten how incredibly beautiful Simone was, but the

  intensity of the feelings she had for Simone had transformed during her

  time convalescing. Simone had given Maria the will to live despite all the

  odds against her. She had taken a huge risk, against medical advice, to be

  treated on the Octavia as she and the doctor travelled to Spain. If she had

  gone to hospital in Palermo, she would never have been allowed to die.

  Being here, now, was nothing short of a miracle, and the money that had

  changed hands had been worth every euro.

  She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of apple blossom. So

  delicate, so sweet. Slowly she opened her eyes and held Simone closer. “I

  nearly didn’t survive. If I’d tried to contact you, you would have been in

  danger. The only people in Sicily who know I am alive are Giovanni and

  the doctor who treated me. Both I trusted with my life.” She lifted Simone’s

  chin and kissed her. “I am Mariella Sanchez now.”

  Tears trickled onto Simone’s cheeks. “In my world you died and left

  me.”

  “In my world I died and became reborn.” Maria thumbed the

  wetness from Simone’s cheeks and smiled. “We can have a life together,

  Simone.”

  Simone sniffled and her eyes reflected the soft, ambient light as she

  cast them over Maria’s face. Maria kissed Simone’s fingers and held them

  to her lips. “You wore the red dress.” She admired the soft curve of

  Simone’s breast and the prickling of Simone’s skin under her fingertips. As

  the shade of Simone’s soft flesh darkened, Maria felt a rush of heat cover

  her. Simone gasped. Maria tugged her closer. She reached her hand around

  Simone’s head and ran her fingers through her hair, and when she brought

  Simone’s lips to hers, it felt as though they tingled. So soft. So tender. She

  groaned and bit Simone’s lip. So real. The musical notes echoed

  distractingly around the auditorium. She released Simone and looked into

  her dark eyes. Her lips trembled and the urge to kiss Simone was strong.

  Simone appealed to Maria through a frown as she shook her head.

  “Don’t you dare do that to me again.”

  Warmth settled like a blanket around Maria’s heart. She kissed

  Simone to quiet her and smiled. “I promise.”

  Simone leaned her cheek against Maria’s chest. “I want to hear your

  heart beating again,” she whispered, “just to check I’m not dreaming.”

  Maria’s spine tickled, and then softness enveloped her as her

  thoughts drifted to the night to come. Simone would explore the sensitive

  scars on Maria’s chest, and she would tell Simone everything she could

  remember about the incident on the boat.

  Rafael had kept Maria informed. Vitale had been arrested for his

  involvement in covering up her father’s death, and although Alessandro

  wouldn’t ever be charged with Don Calvino’s assassination, he had paid the

  price and justice had been served. Two of Don Chico’s henchmen had taken

  the fall for the hit on Alessandro and Maria on the basis that Chico stayed

  out of Sicily
. Who knew how long Chico would comply? But Patrina had

  taken control of the Amatos business, and she would incriminate Chico if

  he broke their agreed truce.

  Tonight, she didn’t want to talk. Maria wanted to hold Simone if she

  wanted to be held. She had nothing to hide from Simone. And while it

  might take Maria time to adjust to her newly found freedom of expression,

  she would talk openly with Simone about anything and everything. No more

  secrets. No more lies. No decision would be taken without Simone being a

  party to it.

  The future she had fashioned while in the hospital bed filled her

  with vibrant energy and something too profound to be labelled. I love you.

  She squeezed Simone tightly, hoping she felt it too.

  The ballet drew Maria’s attention. White swans glided and twirled

  gracefully around the stage. She had seen this moment from as far back as

  she could remember, long before meeting Simone. Her dream had come

  true. Her heart sang in harmony with the musical notes reverberating

  around the auditorium, and she smiled at Simone. “Will you enjoy the ballet

  with me?”

  Simone nodded. Maria saw the answer to the other question she

  intended to ask flash through Simone’s eyes. “Will you spend a lifetime

  with me?”

  Simone bit her lip harder. The fizzing inside Maria intensified. She

  stared at Simone. Amazing.

  Simone turned from the stage and looked at Maria. “What?”

  Maria’s smile broadened. “Nothing.” She continued to stare at

  Simone. Stunning.

  Simone kept her eyes on the stage. “Watch the ballet.”

  Maria continued to stare at Simone. She couldn’t take her eyes from

  her. She wanted to hold her and never let her go. Later.

  Simone turned to look at Maria and gasped softly. Maria smiled at

  the longing she saw in Simone’s eyes. She took Simone’s hand in hers and

  intertwined their fingers and met Simone’s quivering lips with her own in a

  delicate kiss. The intensity of the vibration that moved through Maria

  watered her eyes, and her voice broke.

  “I am so in love with you,” Simone said though her words were

  muted by the booming orchestra.

  Maria smiled and turned her attention to the ballet, enjoying the

  sensation of Simone’s hand in hers, Simone’s love caressing her heart. I

  know.