Surviving Venice

by Anna E Bendewald

  “Pah, nothing new,” Hiero said. “If there wasn’t some sort of drama over these recent brouhahas, then the cardinals would need to be checked for vital signs.” Hiero chuckled and walked off with a wave.

  As he approached his office he saw Negrali pacing, a bright red penguin with his head bowed. “The place is old, try not to wear a hole in my floor.”

  “We need to talk, and you need to get moving.” Negrali stood by as Hiero unlocked his door, and then he hurried inside to resume his pacing in front of Hiero’s desk.

  “Move? I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Into gear! Mobilize!” Negrali shrieked.

  “I don’t have my paintings.”

  “I’ll snatch the damned paintings off Raphielli’s wall tomorrow!”

  “What’s with your hysterics?”

  “Raphielli just called me to say she’s leapfrogging over me and will be confessing directly to the pope! She’s trying to keep me away from her.”

  The phone light on Hiero’s desk started blinking, and he held up a finger to silence his frantic visitor as he picked up the line his operatives used.

  “Pronto.”

  The voice said, “A number of developments: The bug inside the papal apartment just picked up what sounded like the pope telling someone that Vincenzo’s gotten a girl named Gina pregnant, Raphielli Scortini’s carrying Salvio’s child, Contessa Juliette is probably fertile, and he’s overheard Negrali promising Marconi favors once he ascends the throne.”

  “You’re certain?”

  “The audio broke up several times like he was pacing out onto the balcony. But confusing as it was, sì, those were the topics.”

  “Keep on it.” Hiero hung up. “Americo, I agree with you. We need to get moving.”

  “Finally! What’s happened?”

  “Vincenzo’s made another heir with that little plaything he’s been diddling since his wife took off.”

  “Woah! Maybe he’s not gay after all.”

  “And Raphielli’s carrying Salvio’s child.”

  “What? She didn’t say anything! But come to think of it, she’s been feeling poorly.”

  “How pregnant can she be?”

  “Hard to tell with her figure, she’s all round curves.”

  “Sì, not my type at all,” he said as a dismissal. “And things are also looking up for Juliette. Apparently, not only has life after Gabrieli proven her to be a capable and popular construction manager, but she may be fertile.”

  “I don’t care about her fucking uterus, she’s not got any of those weird brainwashing powers. I want Verdu Mer! Kill her!”

  “You want to watch your volume. I don’t like yelling.”

  “Spiacente.”

  “Okay, I’ll get my men down to Venice, where our best bet will be a boating accident with the whole Verona family onboard.”

  “Don’t forget the wife in France. I don’t want to have a single Verona left to derail my plans when I’m pope.”

  “We’ll get her, too.”

  “And I want Raphielli dead within the week! I’ve got a will I’ve made for her, and it leaves me everything.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’ve made sure everyone who matters has seen us together. I even went along with her to dine at the mayor’s home. I put her signature on it. I’ve picked up a couple of papers with her signature on them, and this document is codified by a very expensive lawyer. Now she just needs to die so I can take the will to a probate court.”

  “Hold onto that skullcap there, Americo.” He pointed to the silk headpiece Negrali had placed on the corner of his desk. “We’re not a smash-and-grab operation. We are exacting professionals. You can rest easy that they’re all as good as dead.”

  “I don’t plan to hold onto this skull cap, Hierotymis, not when the crown is within my reach. I want these people ended.”

  The angry cardinal slammed out of the office, muttering that he’d kill the heiress himself if he got the chance.

  Hiero still felt loose and relaxed from his massage as he called his team for a planning meeting. He had a feeling Giselle Verona hadn’t gone far from her home turf, so he would plant a team in Gernelle before the night was out. He had two men who were experts at flushing out prey. They’d go underground and wouldn’t be heard from again until they sent word of her elimination.

  In Venice, he had three of his best operatives infiltrating the top security firms in the hopes of getting assigned to the Verona and Scortini palazzos. It would be easiest if he had men on the inside who could arrange a tumble down the stairs or food poisoning. The boat tragedy would take a few more days to play just right. It didn’t matter if it looked suspicious, it’d never be pinned back on the church. More likely the Mafia would get the heat, like it happened so often when his department pulled off an audacious operation. And if the pope should take a ride with the Veronas, so much the better.

  CHAPTER

  12

  Gina wished she still drank coffee as she sat in Doctor G’s waiting room. She hadn’t slept much the night before, but now felt bolstered by the solid presence of Primo. He held her hand reassuringly and, in turn, he was being attended to by Juliette pretending to be his doting relative. The young Mafioso had been hilariously funny when he’d greeted the Contessa outside. To get into character with her, he’d revealed an agile mind and wicked sense of humor, riffing in equal parts French and Italian about embarrassing things they’d done together at family reunions. Juliette took an obvious shine to him and seemed grateful that he’d lifted the mood.

  As they sat staring at the tasteful prints on the walls in the empty waiting room, Gina tried to take her cue from Alphonso and Raphielli, who looked cool and collected. Everyone was set to play their parts, and Alphonso was ready to use his private-eye skills, but Gina couldn’t help feeling a bit weak and sick. She’d had some blood spotting this morning and had told the boys, who were now beside themselves with worry. After this appointment, il Comitato di Venezia, as they now called their group of confederates, was reconvening at the Verona palazzo, which was light years more comfortable than the Scortini Palazzo, maybe because it was literally lighter.

  “Doctor will see you now,” the receptionist announced and pointed down a hall indicating the door to his large office. Gina saw the woman’s longing look as Alphonso walked past her, and she could have sworn she saw him give her an interested look in return.

  Doctor G looked at the men in surprise. “It seems we have guests.”

  Primo beamed a disarming smile. “I would have come to the last appointment, but Gina was keeping it as a surprise.” Extending his hand across the desk he said, “Louis, Louis Dubois, soon to be Verona.” His accent was an amalgam of privileged European pronunciation and French inflections.

  The doctor looked confused. “Monsieur Dubois?”

  “Call me Louis. You are bringing our baby into the world, no need to be formal. Am I right, Toni?” he said turning to Juliette. He’d pronounced it in a quick throw away, so casually French, doh-NEE.

  The doctor looked alarmed at the contessa being treated so improperly, but Juliette grinned and patted Primo’s knee. “Certainment le médecin est notre bon ami.” Then to Doctor G she said, “Louis is one of those modern fathers who wants to help with every facet of Gina’s pregnancy and birth.”

  “I’m sorry, did he just call you ‘Tony’?”

  “Oh, my family, we have so many Juliettes, we use our middle names to avoid confusion. Mine is Antonia.”

  “You are related? I thought your last name was Clairvaux.” He stared at her.

  “Louis is not my brother, he is my cousin.”

  “Poor cousin, to be honest,” Primo cut in. “Juliette has always taken care of me. She is going to adopt me. I know I will not get a title or anything like that, but Gina and I plan to have lots of kids and that will cheer up Tony since she has become a widow. I want to be in the delivery room, you know, coaching. We are going to take classes.” He kissed the back o
f Gina’s hand with gusto, and she found herself giggling. He was bowling the doctor over with bullshit.

  “Juliette will have Giselle and her child soon, too,” the doctor said.

  “Oh, for certain she will. But Gigi and Vincenzo prefer Paris, while Gina and I will be moving right in with Tony here in Venice. Hearing the patter of little feet every day will do her good.”

  “I see.” The doctor looked at Juliette. “And when is Giselle coming back to start her pre-natal care? We need to get her onto a schedule of checkups.”

  “She says to tell you she is feeling fine and begs your indulgence while she takes a bit more time on her art before she gets too big to climb around with a welding torch. She promises to be here soon.”

  “M-mm, where is she at the moment?” he asked casually while scratching a few notes on a pad.

  Gina felt them all tense at the probing, but Juliette lied like a pro. “Kópavogur. She’s overseeing the installation of a large sculpture at a collector’s home.”

  He made a note. “Kópavogur. Where is that?”

  “Iceland. I spoke to her just yesterday, and she feels tip-top.”

  Gina was impressed at Juliette’s improvisation, but Iceland sounded far-fetched.

  “Travel poses undue stress on the fetus. Press Vincenzo into getting her settled back here in Venice until their baby is born.”

  “I will.”

  Doctor G turned his attention to Alphonso, who would have been hard to overlook in a room twice the size. With his sheer bulk and long hair, he looked like a big barbarian next to the tiny Raphielli. “And you are?”

  “Alphonso Vitali. I’m Raphielli’s baby daddy.”

  Raphielli looked so genuinely surprised at the moniker, she blushed and looked at her hands to compose herself.

  “Mm-really?” Gina could see the skepticism on the doctor’s face as he looked between the two. “All right then, let’s get started with the examinations.”

  Primo grabbed Gina’s hand. “I can be in the room for this, right?”

  She felt unnerved at this darkly intense acquaintance being present while her feet were in medical stirrups and her breasts were examined. But it’d be a goldmine of opportunities for Primo to keep the doctor busy with questions or baffled with bullshit, so she got on board with the plan. Sure, he’d be seeing her body, but in for a penny in for a pound. Besides, he was quite attractive in a dangerous sort of way. She gulped and nodded, “Of course dear, absolutely.”

  The doctor looked ready to object when the contessa said, “I love Louis’ devotion. Reminds me of my husband.” She choked up, and Primo patted her back as she dabbed at her eyes and continued, “I am so grateful for your understanding and attention to our needs.”

  Doctor G nodded, got up, went around the desk, and leaned out the door. “Nurse, please see Miss Verona and Monsieur Dubois…”

  Juliette cut in, “Refer to him as Verona. He will be soon enough.”

  He continued, “The Veronas into examination room B and Signora Scortini into C.” He turned to Alphonso and Juliette. “Both of you can relax in the waiting room.”

  When Gina and Primo were alone, she started undressing to put on the gown she’d been given. He turned his back, but there was a mirror over the sink on the opposite wall, so he closed his eyes.

  “Where did you learn that posh Euro accent?” she asked him.

  “When I’m around posh Eurotrash, I study them. I study everyone.”

  “You’ve studied me?”

  “Absolutely. It’s how I stay one step ahead of people.” He smiled, and with his eyes closed he looked sweet, very different with his intense black eyes hidden. “People have a misperception of my family. We’re more chess players than thugs. We get to know people and anticipate their moves.”

  “You think Juliette is trash?”

  “No. She’s as posh as can be, not a trashy hair on her head. She’s a real lady.”

  Gina folded the clothes she’d borrowed from Giselle’s closet and placed them over the back of a chair. “So, we’ll keep the doctor in here with us as long as we can and give Alphonso plenty of time to snoop around.”

  “Uh-huh. And Raphielli knows to keep the doctor with her until she can’t keep him any longer. Let’s settle in.”

  She closed the paper gown. “I’m decent. You can open your eyes.”

  He opened them, and when their eyes met in the mirror Gina felt a momentary respite from the nausea as desire lapped at her in warm waves.

  His voice was husky when he said, “You look good in paper.”

  “You won’t look at my…me…down there will you?”

  “Not if you don’t want me to.”

  “Grazie.”

  She found herself wondering what would happen if she told him she wanted him to. She thought about how awkward and exciting that could be, and then remembered they weren’t there to make a naughty experiment of things. This was deadly serious and Primo needed to keep his mind on waylaying the doctor, who was most likely a cold-blooded killer.

  Raphielli was relieved when they left the doctor’s office. No one had tipped their hand to Doctor G that they were on to him, which was difficult because Gina was furious at having been given a shot and Juliette was clamping a lid on her rage with only varying degrees of success. It was still early morning, and most of Venice was shuttered as they all piled onto the Verona’s boat and got on their phones. She felt Primo’s eyes on her as she sat next to Alphonso, who placed a call to Vincenzo asking him to go to his late father’s bathroom cabinet, and then started tapping searches on his smartphone and reading chemical names to him. The opulent boat cut smoothly through the icy waters as Juliette conducted Verdu Mer business through her earpiece while simultaneously texting Ippy.

  Raphielli was grateful for the opportunity to return calls before they all started hashing out what Alphonso had discovered at the doctor’s office. She listened to a message from Ava about sending costumes along with the invitations to her ball and called her to discuss it.

  “Ciao, Elli. What do you think of providing costumes for your guests?” The designer sounded unbelievably calm for someone who created hundreds of designs each season that were judged by the fickle fashion world.

  Raphielli was reluctant. “I thought I’d just have Marilynn send out invitations. She offered to. Won’t people be offended if I send them something to wear?”

  “They’ll love you for it! You’ve never been to these balls, but I can tell you, many people have moth-eaten costumes they’ve worn for years. They’ll wear the damned things to like six balls this season alone. They’ll be thrilled to wear something new!”

  “Won’t that be too much work for you?”

  “Are you kidding? It’s a designer’s dream to put clothing onto these people’s bodies! Marketing 101! My team can whip up the whole lot in forty-eight hours. Marilynn already sent me your guest list and they’re all people who are in the society pages, so I’ve got a photo board with their pictures. Sizes are easy, and I’ll make everything tie or Velcro closure. Colorful morning coats for the men with outrageous hats and masks, dazzling gowns, gloves, and fake jewels for the women with outlandish wigs and masks. I can have them to Marilynn in time for her to affix the invitations on top of each box and have them delivered.”

  “You can?”

  “You’re speaking to a woman who’s standing inside a cargo container full of paste jewels, and the next container over is wigs. I’ll have everything you need as soon as you approve it and I point my finger.”

  “If it’s all that easy, let’s do it.”

  “Done. And according to Marilynn, you’re going to have the most outrageous ball in the history of Venice. I hear she’s got a company from Las Vegas installing Poseidon in the canal in front of your palace, and he’ll rise up out of the water at the finale. Now you’ll have the most beautiful guests, too. Ciao!”

  Raphielli felt the beginnings of excitement as she scanned important emails from Kate. One wa
s a notice that Paloma had met with the shelter’s attorney and was going to press charges against Milos, her ex-boyfriend. It was a courageous decision, since he’d stomped her almost to death last fall and had killed their unborn child in the process.

  “You did an excellent job of keeping the doctor in with you,” Juliette was saying to Primo and Gina.

  “Oh, sì. Primo, aka Louis Dubois, invented all sorts of things that I was worried about,” Gina said. She turned to Primo, who broke into chuckles with her as she continued. “Apparently, I’ve been terrified I’ll need an epidural and needed to understand every aspect of that procedure. Also, episiotomies, piles, colostrum, and a host of breastfeeding fears because I have no boobs. He was quite an advocate for all the issues I’d shared only with him.”

  “Well, it worked. You had him in there for almost an hour.” Juliette smiled at Primo.

  “He got impatient, but Primo wouldn’t shut up,” Gina said, and then bit her lip to keep from laughing. “He finally walked out while Primo was asking about sex positions during pregnancy.”

  “Rude.” Primo pretended to be miffed. “I told him she was afraid we’d injure the fetus. But he kept repeating that I needed to make Gina take shots, which I promised to talk to her about.”

  “I’m never setting foot in that place again if I can help it. I’d like to see him in court.” Gina’s mood turned somber again. “He noticed I was spotting, and actually looked happy as he told me there was nothing to worry about.” Then she squeezed Primo’s knee. “Louis, be a good fiancé and kill him for me, would you?” She looked half serious.

  He shook his head good-naturedly. “Petrosinos don’t take orders. Remember?”

  Raphielli arched a brow and said, “Let’s not talk about having people killed,” then felt like a big fat hypocrite since she’d asked Gio to kill her husband. Primo was gentleman enough not to say a word.

  When they arrived at the Verona palazzo, the pope, Gio, Zelph, Vincenzo, and Leonardo were waiting for them in the salon.