by Trish Morey; Day Leclaire; Natalie Anderson; Brenda Jackson; Ann Voss Peterson
Primo lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Eh. You have the next sixty years to get to know each other. You have The Inferno, which means your marriage will be passionate, happy and successful. That is all that matters, yes?”
She stared down at the kitchen table and traced one of the gouges her cousin Marco had carved in it years ago. A love scratch, her grandmother had claimed. A nick alongside so many other nicks, all of which helped imbue a piece of furniture with the richness and history of the family who owned it. Gianna smiled sadly. Maybe she wouldn’t be as nervous of tomorrow’s events if she believed that The Inferno was forever, that someday she and Constantine would have a kitchen table that spoke of generations worth of love and use.
She glanced up, on the verge of telling her grandfather about what she’d learned on her thirteenth birthday. But when she looked into those ancient golden eyes, eyes filled with love and understanding and an absolute certainty in the world as he knew it, she couldn’t bring herself to disillusion him.
“Constantine and I met someone in Seattle,” she said instead. “I didn’t know if I should tell you about it. But I think I better.”
Primo turned the flame beneath his sauce to a simmer and snagged a pair of bottles of homemade beer out of the cavernous refrigerator. Popping the tops with practiced ease, he set one in front of her. He took the seat beside her and tapped his bottle against hers. “Cin cin.”
They both drank. “This man…” She didn’t see any easy way to tell him. “He looked just like Sev. And you.”
Primo closed his eyes. “His name?”
“Gabe Moretti. He wasn’t pleased to meet me.” She waited for her grandfather to gather himself before continuing. “Who is he? How is he related to us?”
“I believe he is your Uncle Dominic’s son.”
It confirmed her suspicions. “With the woman he was leaving Aunt Laura for?”
“This is not an appropriate conversation on the eve of your wedding,” Primo said gently. “We will talk of it another time. Thank you for telling me.”
She recognized Primo’s expression. She wouldn’t get any more information out of him. “I’m planning on holding you to that. If Constantine’s going to do business with the man, chances are we’ll meet again—sooner rather than later. I’d rather not be in the dark when we do.”
Primo inclined his head. “You will not mention this to anyone else. Mi hai capito, Gianna Marie?”
She made a face. “Yes, I understand. In fact, I had a feeling you were going to say that.” She stood. “I’ll let Constantine know.”
The rest of the night was everything she could have asked, the evening filled with joy, fun, laughter and, most important of all, the warmth of family unity. She wasn’t the least surprised when the Dantes gathered in Primo’s garden after dinner and began relating old, favorite stories. While her grandparents took turns telling Constantine about their first Inferno meeting—perpetuating the falsehood of The Inferno—Gianna slipped away from the light and crowd and retreated into the shadows.
Tomorrow she’d be a married woman. Would she be one of the lucky ones, like her own parents and grandparents? Or would she and Constantine end up like Uncle Dominic and Aunt Laura?
“Are you okay?” Constantine came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.
She melted against him with a sigh of happiness. “I’m fine.”
“Nervous about tomorrow?”
“You’re the tenth person tonight who’s asked me that.”
“Probably why you’re nervous.”
She laughed. “That must be it.” She turned in his arms and allowed her fingers to drift deep into the thick waves of his hair. “There can’t possibly be any other reason.”
“No, there can’t.” His absolute certainty humbled her. “You know I want you more than any other woman I’ve known.”
Not quite a declaration of love. But close. Maybe in time he’d say the words. Maybe in time he’d mean them. Before she could reply, she heard Rafe just behind them, laughing at something Luc said.
He approached, slapping Constantine on the back. “Ready for tomorrow or do you have cold feet? My car’s out front. They’d never catch us if you want to make a break for it.”
Constantine’s brow furrowed briefly as he mulled over “make a break for it.” He must have reasoned through the idiom because he laughed. “No breaking necessary. Gianna is the only woman I want. The only woman I’ll ever want.”
Rafe chuckled. “She’ll definitely be the only one. The Inferno will see to that.”
Constantine’s bleak gaze shifted to Gianna, making her want to weep. “So I understand,” he murmured. “Let us hope the reverse is also true.”
The day of Gianna’s wedding dawned sunny and temperate. The morning passed in a dreamy haze. Someone came and fixed her hair, then magically vanished. Same with her makeup. While her bridesmaids—a few college friends, along with her sisters and cousins-in-law—hovered and fluttered, laughing and teasing, Nonna and her mother kept her from floating away. Or maybe it was Rafe’s words that kept her grounded, slipping into her dream day like a dark, threatening cloud.
She’ll definitely be the only one. The Inferno will see to that.
The gown she’d chosen was molded antique lace with a keyhole back and chapel train. The finishing touch was a fabulous Dante fire diamond tiara that kept her lace veil anchored firmly in place. The trip to the wedding chapel took no time at all, or so it seemed to Gianna. One minute she stood in her parents’ home, the next she entered the church. The women were all ushered into the bride’s room to await the start of the ceremony. She’d been told that Constantine and his groomsmen had already arrived and were relaxing in a nearby room. She could vaguely hear the sound of masculine voices drifting down the hall.
“Are you okay?” Ariana asked in concern. She and Lazz had flown in for the special occasion with their baby, Amata.
Gianna managed a quick smile. “Of course. No worries.” Well, except for one.
She’ll definitely be the only one. The Inferno will see to that.
It wasn’t fair, she realized. As much as she loved Constantine, it wasn’t fair to keep him trapped against his will. To force him into a marriage. Not if he didn’t really love her. She didn’t want an Inferno love. Not one forced on the man she married. She wanted him to love her for herself. Because he had chosen. Because he had made the decision she was the only one for him.
She shot to her feet in a panic. “I need to see Constantine.”
For a split second the women all froze, silence gripping the room. Then everyone started talking at once. She couldn’t make out a word they said. Nor did it matter. She headed for the door.
Her mother intercepted her, but Gianna shook her head. “Don’t, Mamma. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”
“It is bad luck,” Elia protested. “You must wait until after you exchange your vows. Look, your babbo is here. The ceremony is about to begin. It’s time for me to take my seat in the church.”
Gianna shook her head. “This won’t wait. I have to talk to Constantine now. Before the wedding.”
Elia turned to her husband. “Alessandro,” she called, a hint of desperation slipping into her voice. “Come speak to your daughter.”
Before he could, Gianna escaped the bride’s room. Her mother followed, the rest of the women on her heels. Gianna found Constantine’s room without any difficulty. The door stood open. Masculine laughter erupted from inside, the sound dying the instant they caught sight of her standing in the doorway.
Constantine stood, eyeing her in concern. “Piccola? What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”
“I need to talk to you. It’s important.” She spared her brothers and cousins a swift look. She’d rather they not hear this next part. “Would you excuse us, please?”
They didn’t want to leave. But they did it for her. One by one they filed from the room.
“Dio, look at you,�
� Constantine murmured. “Words fail me.”
Tears misted her eyes and her chin quivered. “You look pretty fine, yourself.”
He must have sensed her panic because he stilled. “What’s going on?” he asked sharply. “Why are you here?”
“I love you. I just need to tell you that first.”
His expression relaxed and he closed the distance between them. He started to reach for her, then paused. “I’m afraid to touch you.” Gently he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
She closed her eyes. He still hadn’t said the words, which made her decision so much easier. “I need to do something for you, before we marry.”
“I don’t understand. Do what?” He glanced briefly at the closed door. “Are you sure this can’t wait?” he asked.
Almost. Almost she grabbed the lifeline. But she’d faced all of her other fears. She’d face this one, too. “No, this can’t wait.” She held out her hands. She could see they trembled, the fire diamond on her engagement ring flashing in agitation. “Give me your hand. Your right hand.” The Infernoed hand.
His confusion threatened to break her heart, especially when she knew he didn’t suspect what she was about to do. She took his strong, warm hand between her freezing ones. It took every ounce of determination she possessed to say the words that had to be spoken.
“I release you,” she told him, her voice trembling. She had a vague recollection of her uncle saying it three times. Third time’s the charm? Just in case, she added, “I release you. I release you.”
He must have begun to suspect something. “What have you done, Gianna?” he demanded.
The breath shuddered from her lungs. “I’ve just released you from The Inferno.”
“You’ve what?”
Tears spilled over. “I’ve released you.”
“No.” He jerked his hand free of hers. “No, you have not done this to us. Give it back!”
Her face crumpled. “I don’t think I can.”
Constantine strode to the door, flinging it open. “Get Primo. Now.” He slammed the door closed and turned to confront her. “Why would you do this to us, Gianna? Why try to destroy what we have, today of all days?”
She sank onto a footstool and bowed her head. Her dress pooled around her and she ran shaking fingers over the beautiful antique lace. Such a gorgeous gown meant for such a happy occasion. And look what she’d done to it. To them.
Slowly she lifted her eyes, forcing herself to meet Constantine’s infuriated gaze. “I did it because you’re not the only one who believes in honor. I refuse to use The Inferno to force you to the altar. I want you to marry me because you love me, not because you have no other choice. You said yourself that you didn’t like having the control taken away from you. You’ve even referred to The Inferno as an infection. All I’ve done is return your control, cured your infection.”
The door burst open and Primo strode into the room. He took one look at Gianna and Constantine, and closed the door behind him. “What is this?” He spoke in Italian, the only indication of his concern. “What has happened?”
Constantine swiveled to confront him, leveling an accusing finger in Gianna’s direction. “She took away The Inferno. Make her give it back.”
Primo froze for an instant. Then his mouth dropped open and he blinked in astonishment. Tilting back his head, he roared with laughter. “Give it back?” Tears filled his eyes, making them glitter like ancient gold and he fumbled for a handkerchief to wipe the dampness from them. “Is this a joke?”
“It’s no joke,” Constantine said through clenched teeth. “She released me. I want you to make her give me back The Inferno.”
Primo patted his pockets until he came up with a cigar. “Give it back,” he repeated, still chuckling.
“Primo, you can’t smoke that in here,” Gianna informed him quietly. “It’s against the law.”
“Phft. These laws do not apply to me. I am what they call ‘grandfathered in.’“ But he did refrain from lighting up. He clamped the cigar between his teeth and leveled Gianna with a look. “Spieghi lei.”
She didn’t want to explain. Couldn’t explain. Couldn’t tell her beloved grandfather the truth about his son and daughter-in-law. Definitely couldn’t tell him what she’d learned about The Inferno. “Primo—”
“Subito!”
She shrugged, surrendering to the inevitable. “Constantine’s right. I took back The Inferno. I released him.”
Primo raised his eyes heavenward. “Santa Maria, Madre di Dio. What has gotten into you, Gianna? There are no take backs in The Inferno.” He wavered between laughter and outrage. “Where did you hear such nonsense?”
She hesitated. One look at her grandfather’s expression warned that he’d have the answer from her, no matter how long it took. “Uncle Dominic and Aunt Laura.”
Primo stiffened. “Dominic,” he repeated. Spinning around, he crossed to the door and yanked it open. “Get Severo. Now.”
Her cousin Sev entered a moment later. He was followed by his wife, Francesca, and Constantine’s sister, Ariana. An instant later her parents slipped into the room, along with her grandmother, Nonna. They settled her in a chair not far from Gianna. That opened the floodgates and the entire family piled in behind them.
“This concerns all of us,” Alessandro informed his father. “La famiglia.”
And that said it all.
Reluctantly Primo nodded. He took a seat beside Gianna and gathered her hands in his. Constantine sat behind her, his solid warmth at her back, a supportive hand on her shoulder. Her family encircled the three of them, love and concern flowing from them in palpable waves.
“You have often been a chiacchierona when you should not,” Primo said, though kindly. “Perhaps this is one of the times you should have chattered more and chose instead to chatter less. From the beginning, Gianna.”
She spared Sev a swift look. Other than her grandparents, his reaction to her story worried her the most. “It was my thirteenth birthday. The day before Uncle Dominic and Aunt Laura died.”
Almost in unison, the family crossed themselves. “We were at your uncle’s house to celebrate the occasion,” Primo prompted. “I remember that day.”
Her hands tightened within her grandfather’s warm hold. Behind her, Constantine gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Even at that young age, I was crazy about shoes.”
“So was Mamma,” Sev murmured.
“Yes. For my gift, she told me to go up to her closet and pick out any pair of shoes I wanted.” Gianna sighed at the memory. “I’d never seen so many lovely shoes.”
Constantine snorted.
Gianna took instant umbrage. “Believe it or not, she had even more pairs than I do. And her closet…” She sighed. Aware that she was getting a bit offtrack, she forced herself to focus. “I’d probably been up there for a full hour, trying on pair after pair, unable to make up my mind, when Uncle Dominic and Aunt Laura came into the bedroom. I was buried in the closet. They didn’t know I was there. Aunt Laura had probably forgotten. Or maybe she assumed I’d already left. They…they were fighting.”
Sev’s expression darkened. “They did that a lot right before…” He shook off the memory. “Go on, Gianna.”
“Uncle Dominic told her he planned to leave and wanted a divorce. Aunt Laura started crying. She said…” Gianna swallowed. “She said ‘But what about The Inferno? You told me it would last forever.’“
Sev stiffened. Primo closed his eyes. Nonna lifted a trembling hand to her mouth.
“I’m sorry,” Gianna whispered. “I’m so sorry to tell you this.”
“Continue,” Primo prompted.
“Uncle Dominic said that he’d experienced The Inferno with someone else. If he mentioned her name, I don’t recall it. He said it happens sometimes. That it was beyond his control.” She felt the ripple of disbelief sweep through her cousins and brothers. She didn’t dare look at any of their wives to see how they we
re taking the news. “Aunt Laura was still crying, but she was also angry. She said that he’d told her when they’d married that he’d felt The Inferno for her. That Primo had told her it only happened once in a lifetime. That she’d never have married him if they hadn’t felt The Inferno for each other.”
“The Inferno does only happen once in a lifetime,” her grandfather said gently.
Gianna shook her head. She looked at him miserably, the pain of disillusioning him worse than anything she’d ever experienced before. “Uncle Dominic said you didn’t know because you’d never felt it for anyone else the way he had. He said that Dantes can feel it for more than one person, but that he could fix things. Take away The Inferno so Aunt Laura wouldn’t love him anymore. He took her hand in his and he released her.”
“What?” The question came from more than one of her relatives.
“He released her,” Gianna repeated. “And it worked.”
For the first time in her entire life she heard Primo swear. She was so shocked she could only sit and stare, openmouthed. Her grandfather spared Sev a brief, sorrowful look. “It pains me to say this about my own son, but Dominic lied.”
Gianna shook her head. “No. No, he didn’t. He left after that and Aunt Laura called a friend. She said that The Inferno was gone. She said she felt it leave when Uncle Dominic released her. And she was glad. Glad The Inferno couldn’t force her to love someone against her will any longer. Now she could go sailing with him in the morning while they discussed the divorce and it wouldn’t interfere with her decisions.” Gianna started to cry. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to tell any of you this because you were all so happy. Now I’ve ruined it for everyone.”
Constantine swept her into his arms and cradled her close. “Shh, piccola. You haven’t ruined anything.”
“Yes, I have. I released you. The Inferno is gone. You won’t love me now.”
“Is it gone?” he asked tenderly. “All this time I have been sitting here listening to your story and my palm has itched and throbbed just as it always has. Even more important…” He took a deep breath. “I have never in my life told a woman I loved her. I’ve even resisted saying it to you. Pride, I suppose. A last defense against something beyond my control.”
