Dark Symphony (Dark Series - book 10)

Home > Romance > Dark Symphony (Dark Series - book 10) > Page 7
Dark Symphony (Dark Series - book 10) Page 7

by Christine Feehan


  “

  Nonno

  sent them away. He said you needed your rest after your ordeal last night. He can be so utterly rude sometimes. I wish you’d talk to him.”

  Antonietta recognized the petulant note in Tasha’s voice. “You know perfectly well

  Nonno

  is as sharp as a tack.” Although he could be quite abrupt if he thought someone was acting like an idiot. He was often abrupt with Tasha. “For a minute there, I thought you were worried about me.”

  “For a minute there, I thought I was, too, and I don’t appreciate the worry one bit, Antonietta. I absolutely do not want to get those hideous worry lines you serious types get. And why is it you always get the adventures? Why can’t someone try to kill me?” There was a rise to her voice now, a hint of a wail that forced Antonietta to shield her sensitive ears. “It makes no sense to waste it on you. You’re so you. Look at you sitting there just as calm as you please. I could be such a perfect victim and look pale and brave and interesting. You don’t look as if a single thing out of place happened.”

  “Believe me, Tasha, it wasn’t a particularly fun experience. You don’t need to have someone try to kill you to look interesting. You always manage that nicely. You don’t need to be pale and brave, you’re beautiful, and you know it.”

  Tasha waved the obvious away. “I know, I know.” She sighed. “Mere beauty isn’t always enough to capture attention, Antonietta. Some men are only interested in silly things like murder. What am I supposed to do? Hire someone to kill me just to get a little attention?” She stood up and paced across the floor with quick, angry steps. “It’s utterly ridiculous to think of that man spending hours with you, and you can’t even see him! It doesn’t bear thinking about.”

  “Byron?” Antonietta tried desperately to follow her cousin’s thinking and at the same time control the volume of her hearing. The sound of Tasha’s shoes reverberated through her head.

  “Oh that odious man! Not him. You know I can’t stand to be in the same room with him. He’s rude and obnoxious, and I hate him.” Tasha stared at her reflection in the mirror of the vanity. “Why would you have a mirror in here? I’ve never understood that.” She turned sideways and held her breath, checking her flat stomach.

  “It came with the furniture,” Antonietta said. “What man are you talking about? I don’t spend hours with any man.” She turned away from her cousin to hide the sudden color she knew was spreading into her face. She couldn’t think too much about the time spent with Byron. About her reactions to him.

  “The policeman, Antonietta,” Tasha snapped impatiently. “For heaven’s sake, follow along. This is important.”

  “This is all over a policeman?” Antonietta sighed with a mixture of relief and exasperation. “Tasha, you’re engaged to be married. You have a fiance, a very wealthy fiance, I might add.”

  “What does that have to do with anything? I’m going to marry Christopher, but he’s so boring. And he’s so jealous. It’s tiresome. His entire life is his family and church and business. All he can think about is ships and religion.”

  “His family does own the second largest shipping company in the world, Tasha,” Antonietta said. “And Italian families are nearly always close.”

  “Mama’s boys,” Tasha sniffed, “or in Christopher’s case, a daddy’s boy. They insist I have to go to church with him.”

  “You knew going into the betrothal he wanted you to convert to his religion.”

  “I didn’t realize I was supposed to take it so seriously. He brings that horrible priest over every week, and I’m supposed to study. All I should have to do is go and sit with him during the services. I don’t need to know all the mumbo jumbo that goes along with it. I doubt if anybody else really knows it. In any case, why can’t he just be a Catholic like everybody else? Who cares which religion is the true one and who broke away from what? It’s just silly.”

  Antonietta sighed again. “You can’t have a fling with a policeman when you’re engaged to one of the more powerful men in the world. I think the tabloids would get wind of it.”

  “Who mentioned a fling? I could really fall for him. He has the most wonderful chest you’ve ever imagined. Even Byron doesn’t have a chest like his, well, not as perfect anyway.” She made a rude noise. “Why do you like him?”

  Deliberately Antonietta misunderstood. “I’ve never met your policeman, Tasha, so how could I possibly have an opinion?”

  “You know very well I was talking about Bryon!”

  “Why don’t you like him?” Antonietta countered.

  “He doesn’t look at me. Never. That’s just not normal,” Tasha said. “All men look at me. And he’s scary. There’s just no other word for him. His eyes are flat and cold, and he stares at people like he sees inside of them. He never smiles.” She shivered. “He reminds me of a tiger I saw at the zoo one time, pacing back and forth in its cage and watching me without blinking.”

  “He smiles.”

  “He bares his teeth, it isn’t the same thing.” Tasha gasped loudly. “Antonietta! What is on your neck? You have a love bite.”

  Antonietta could feel the sudden burning, a throbbing on her neck that caused an instant reaction in her body. Fire smoldered in the pit of her stomach. There was an answering throb between her legs. For a moment she could actually taste him in her mouth. Wild. Untamed. A dark, erotic dream better left for night yet persisting into daylight hours. The throbbing spread to include a spot on the swell of her breast. She tried not to blush, remembering the feel of Byron’s mouth, hot and wet and wild on her skin. She covered her neck with the palm of her hand, captured his kiss there, holding him to her with that small caress.

  “It is a love bite! He was here last night with you!” It was an accusation, nothing less, as if Antonietta were on trial for criminal behavior. “You took Byron Justicano into your bed! Look at you, what you’re wearing!” Tasha was nearly hysterical. “That lace barely covers you! Have you no decency?”

  “Tasha.” Antonietta forced herself to remain calm when she wanted to order her cousin out of the room. “You bought me this gown. I sleep in it because it is comfortable, and I have always considered you to be the epitome of good taste.”

  “Well, yes, I am, it is true.” Tasha was somewhat mollified. “But I didn’t mean you to wear it for that horrible man. He’s a fortune hunter, out for your money all along. All this time pretending to be friends with

  Nonno

  , but in truth he was willing to seduce a blind woman.”

  “Must you be so dramatic all the time, Tasha? I’m thirty-seven years old. Did you think I never slept with a man? This may surprise you, but you don’t have to have sight to share sex with someone.” Antonietta dragged on her robe and shoved her dark glasses over her eyes. “And I don’t appreciate you telling me I have hideous scars when they are barely noticeable.” She swept past her cousin toward the enormous bathroom. She should have slept with him. She’d been an absolute idiot not to sleep with him. It was all so hazy. She had wanted Byron to make love to her. Had she fallen asleep in the middle of it all? The idea was humiliating.

  Tasha followed her. “That was years ago, Toni, you know it was. And the scars were much worse then. And you were getting so much attention from everyone. Poor little orphaned girl. It was like a movie. Just imagine what I could have done with that role.”

  “It wasn’t a role, Tasha.” Exasperation crept into Antonietta’s voice in spite of her resolve to be patient. “I lost my mother and father. It was horrible. A tragedy.”

  “I know. I was born for tragedy.”

  “You have suffered tragedy.”

  “Not that I can talk about.” Tasha sniffed indignantly. “And no one’s thought about your scars in years.”

  “I thought about them every time I went out in public.”

  Tasha studied one perfectly manicured fingernail. “If you weren’t so vain, thinking about your looks all the time, you wouldn’t have even rememb
ered.”

  Antonietta bit her tongue to keep from pointing out that Tasha spent half of her life in front of mirrors. “You should have told me they weren’t that bad. Not being the center of attention your every waking minute is not a good enough reason to hurt me.”

  “Oh for heaven’s sake, Toni, you know I’m sorry, it was years ago. And you know I can’t help my need for constant affection. My shrink said it’s Daddy’s fault. He paid Paul all the attention.”

  “He showered you with presents,” Antonietta contradicted. “You were his little princess. He gave you anything you ever wanted.”

  Tasha sank into a deep-cushioned chair. “Presents can never make up for parental affection, and you know very well Daddy’s entire world was the polo fields. I couldn’t stand getting my shoes dirty, and he never forgave me. And he took Paul everywhere with him.” Her perfect pout was always wasted on Antonietta, so Tasha didn’t bother with it.

  “You certainly know how to rewrite history. Poor Paul couldn’t do a thing right. He tried to please your father for years.” Paul and Tasha’s father had been obsessed with women, not with the polo fields, but Antonietta refrained from correcting Tasha’s version of history.

  “And then Paul gave up and began gambling and drinking and doing everything he could to embarrass our family,” Tasha pointed out. “He went through every cent he inherited, first from Mama, and then Daddy. And then he lost all of my money. Daddy was perfectly right about his weak character all along.”

  “That isn’t true. You went through most of your money yourself and then insisted on that investment Paul came up with. I told you it wasn’t sound. You knew it was throwing money away, but you did it anyway.”

  Tasha jumped to her feet. “Ooh! How would you know what it’s like? Everything you touch turns to gold. You don’t have to sell yourself to a man who’s about as cold as a fish.”

  “You and Paul have plenty to live on, Tasha, and you always have a home here, you know that. You don’t have to sell yourself, either. I told you not to invest your money. As I recall, I was adamant about it, but you wouldn’t listen.” To prevent further argument, Antonietta firmly closed the bathroom door.

  Chapter 6

  She took her time showering, hoping Tasha would be gone by the time she dressed, although she knew it was unlikely. Her cousin was tenacious when there was a man in the picture, and apparently the authorities had made the supreme mistake of sending a handsome officer. She couldn’t imagine where the palazzo chef, Enrico, had disappeared to, but a distinct chill was working its way down her spine in spite of the hot shower. Byron was certain that someone was introducing poison into the food. Could Enrico’s disappearance have something to do with that?

  She turned her face up to the hot water spray above her head. Byron had killed her assailant. She was certain he had. And the body had been dropped on the cliffs, carelessly, with little thought of what the authorities might think. What did she think? She knew things others didn’t. She could do things others couldn’t. And she knew Byron wasn’t quite human. She accepted it as she accepted it in herself, yet he had killed easily, swiftly, without hesitation. He claimed he hadn’t been suspicious of Enrico. Had he found evidence linking Enrico to the poison?

  For a moment Antonietta leaned her head against the shower tile, allowing the spray to pour over her. Byron was many things she didn’t quite understand, but he would not have murdered Enrico. She was not going to allow Tasha, with all her drama, to make her suspicious. With a little sigh she turned off the hot water and dried the beads of water from her skin. The towel lingered over the one spot on her breast that felt hot and throbbed for attention. She dressed with great care, braided the thick mass of hair, and swirled it into an intricate knot to give her more height. To give her added confidence.

  Tasha was still in her bedroom. Antonietta could smell her distinctive perfume and hear the continual rustle of clothing. Tasha was not a patient or restful person, and waiting would have been difficult for her. Antonietta forced a smile. “You’re still here. It must be important.”

  “Finally! You could have hurried, Toni.” Tasha caught her arm. “This is important, you don’t know how important. You have to talk to

  Nonno

  . I must be allowed in the room when the authorities return to question you.”

  “I’ll speak to him, Tasha,” Antonietta agreed.

  There was a moment of silence while Tasha searched for the right words. “Don’t get upset with me. You know I always look out for you. You’re not nearly as worldly as I am, although, of course, you’re much older.”

  “Have you forgotten we share the same birthday?”

  Tasha hissed out a soft whisper of aggravation. “I don’t know you in this mood, Toni. Do you see? Already he is driving a wedge between you and your family!”

  “I’m not having this conversation with you, Tasha. I don’t interfere in your personal life, no matter how bizarre I think it. All I ask is the same respect. What I do is my business, no one else’s. Don’t you dare bring up Byron to the rest of the family.”

  “Are you really going to talk to

  Nonno

  for me?” Tasha asked.

  “Yes, I said I would.”

  A knock on the door was loud. Antonietta recognized Marita’s distinctive way of announcing herself. Marita tried very hard to come across with authority and importance, even in minor things. “Come in, Marita.” In another few minutes, all of her cousins would be crowding into her room.

  “My husband, Franco, has sent me out of concern for your well-being, Antonietta.” Marita made the announcement formal and loud. “You have never slept this long in all the time we can recall.”

  “You’ve been married to Franco for ten years, Marita,” Tasha said with exasperation, “we know he’s your husband. Do you have to announce it every time you walk into a room? You do have your own identity. If you’d just see Dr. Venshrank, you wouldn’t need to identify so strongly with Franco.”

  Marita stuck her chin in the air. “Just because I’ve managed to stay married and happy for ten years and you’ve gone through two husbands and three fiances doesn’t mean I need to see your doctor, Tasha. Franco is a good man, and I’m proud to be his wife. In any case, it reminds you I am a member of the family, too, if only by marriage.”

  “You are so insecure,” Tasha said, rolling her eyes in disgust. “You’ve been in the family for ten long years, you have two children, and you’d think you’d get over the fact that you had totally inferior breeding and no social status whatsoever when Franco found you. We all have.”

  “Don’t start, you two. I have to speak with Signora Helena immediately and find out what is happening, or you may not have food for the next few days.” Antonietta was exasperated with the both of them, grown women always feuding.

  “Marita would live just fine for a day or two, but I wouldn’t survive.” Tasha patted her flat stomach lovingly.

  Marita nearly screamed in frustration. “My stomach is a badge of courage, two bambini, and you with none.”

  “Enough!” Antonietta nearly yelled it. “I don’t want you to ever say that again to Tasha in my presence, Marita.”

  “I’m sorry, forgive me, Tasha. Toni is right, I shouldn’t have said such a thing.”

  “I don’t pay attention to anything you say,” Tasha said belligerently, but her voice trembled.

  Marita turned her attention to Antonietta. “Toni, I really needed to talk to you about Franco. He’s in a meeting with

  Nonno

  . I don’t want you to interrupt them. You must see he deserves another chance. It is time

  Nonno

  realized his worth and paid him accordingly. He should be vice president and respected by all.”

  “You know I have no say in what

  Nonno

  ’s decisions arc, Marita.”

  “Just promise me not to ruin Franco’s chance. I must insist, Antonietta. You know he works hard and des
erves so much more than

  Nonno

  gives him. One little mistake should be forgiven.”

  “It wasn’t a little mistake, as you well know, Marita. You pushed him until he was bitter and angry and wanting your respect. He betrayed his family and our company. He was lucky charges weren’t brought against him and that

  Nonno

  listened to Tasha’s and my pleas to allow him to stay here. If you’re pushing him again to do something he will later regret, think hard, Marita.

  Nonno

  won’t forgive another betrayal, not even for the children, and Marita, neither will I.”

  “He turned down a huge offer from Christopher’s company to join with them. A merger would be good for both companies. Franco has proved his loyalty even though he knows the merger would make us all wealthy.”

  Antonietta sighed. “We are wealthy already, Marita, and there is no advantage to our company from a merger, only on the Demonesini side. You know very well Christopher’s father even tried to court me in hopes of a merger.”

  “The families will merge when Christopher marries Tasha.”

  A loud crash followed by a bloodcurdling scream of pain interrupted the two women. There was no mistaking a child’s continuous scream of agony. Tasha turned toward the sound instantly. “That’s little Margurite!” She was already racing from the room as she called out the warning.

  The screams emerging from the lower story were appalling. Antonietta had never heard anything like it. “Something is really wrong with Margurite.”

  “She just wants attention.” Marita pressed her hands over her ears. “Tasha should make her stop that noise, no Scarletti should make such a scene. That’s Tasha’s influence. If Franco hears her, he’ll rush to her side instead of keeping his mind on business as he should!” But she was running even as she complained.

 

‹ Prev