“Giacomo, thank God you’re back.” The father and son hugged each other. “How did everything go in Washington?”
“Actually, I ended up in Paris, and everything went amazingly well.”
“I wish I’d known you were going there—I have a friend who lives there.”
“I didn’t have much time, Dad, I was really busy.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here. Your sister and Marge took a walk to Saint Biagio’s church. I think they’re praying for me.”
“That’s good. Nothing wrong with a little prayer.”
“You’re right about that. I’m so glad you’re here, Giacomo.”
“How are you feeling? Rio told me about the seizure. Sorry I missed your birthday.”
“No problem—my birthday present is having you and Rio here with me. I feel great today, but I have a funny feeling I won’t be this way much longer. Maybe we should go back to the States next week. So, how do you like your house?”
“My house?”
“Well, yours and Rio’s.”
“It is beautiful, Dad.”
“Help me sit down, will you, son?”
“Sure, Pop.” The two walked over to a lounge chair.
“Did you see my hair is growing back?” Paolo rubbed his head.
“Yeah, it looks nice—reminds me of a drill sergeant I had in boot camp.”
“Thanks.” Paolo chuckled. “Why don’t you go inside and change, your bedroom is on the third floor. I’m going to take a little nap. And Giacomo?”
“Yeah, Dad.”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me, too.”
Paolo lay back and fell asleep in the warmness of the sun’s light.
CHAPTER 79
THE GUESTS MILLED about the patio as the sun began to set. Tall outdoor heaters were lit to warm the patio area as the night air cooled. Wine glasses in hand, the guests enjoyed a light appetizer of cured meats and cheeses. Italian music played quietly in the background.
Paolo tapped his water glass with a spoon. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m so glad you’re here. Please, sit down.” A police siren echoed through the streets, fading. The voices of the party quieted. Maria said, “Sounds like the polizia are in the piazza.” She told her husband, “Roberto, go get some more wine and make sure the restaurant is alright.”
“I’ll go help you with the wine,” Giacomo said. The two men left.
“Wow, you can see the blue flashing lights in the valley.”
“It’s probably nothing, Marge. Come on, Rio, let’s go check on the food.”
“Okay, Dad.”
“I will come with you, mi amore.”
Paolo and Rio looked at each other and smiled.
Five minutes later, Paolo, Rio and Maria walked back out to the patio. A fresh, familiar scent wafted across Paolo’s nose in the cool night air. By the tile stairs stood several familiar faces—one wore a beret and had a cane in his hand, the other two were Jim and Rami.
A broad smile crossed Paolo’s face. “Oh, my God, what are you three doing here?” In the same breath, he added, “Where the hell are all my guests?” Like the great sea parting, the three men stepped aside.
Paolo stumbled forward and grabbed a chair. Rio was behind him. “It’s okay, Dad, it’s not a hallucination.”
There in the sparkling light of the moon stood Sydney Hill. Paolo began to weep. “I’m not hallucinating?”
“No, Dad, you’re not.”
“Oh my God, oh my God. How?”
Sydney walked to Paolo. He met her halfway. Under the bright light of the moon, the two embraced. Out in the alley, people began to clap and cheer.
Arnaud walked to them. “Bonjour, my friend. I hope you are as happy as I was that day when you returned Emily to my arms.”
Paolo could say nothing. Speechless, he looked into Sydney’s face. The dazzling green eyes captivated his soul once again. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, my love, I’m fine.” She tenderly rubbed his face and kissed him.
“But you’re dead.”
She pulled back from him, took his hands, and placed them on her face. “No, I’m not. See? I’m real.”
“Dad, why don’t you sit down?”
“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. Rio, can you get me a glass of wine?”
“Sure, Dad.”
Everyone piled onto the patio. As if it were Christmas Day, joy and laughter filled the air. The village of Ottati came to life. Maria sent her staff over to the restaurant to get more food. Wine flowed as people chatted away in Italian and English. The celebration ended by ten, the doors to the patio closed.
Paolo, Sydney, Arnaud, Jim, Rami, Giacomo, and Rio sat on the couches in the main living area downstairs. Marge had gone upstairs to sleep. When the shock was just about gone, Paolo asked, “Okay, tell me what the hell happened?”
“Dad, it’s a long story.”
“I have all night, I’m listening.”
“After we realized Sydney had been kidnapped, Arnaud and the DGSE sent out search teams. Now, mind you, the Russian government was also looking for Payne. Between the three countries, we were able to pinpoint his whereabouts—at least, that’s what we believed. Every time we thought we had him, he eluded us—to this day, we still don’t know how. In early September, we captured Duman. Through various interrogation techniques, we were able to ascertain where Payne was. This time, only Arnaud, Rami, Jim and I knew the location.
“That’s why you had to leave when we got to the airport?”
“Exactly. I led the raid. The funny thing was, it was almost a non-event. He was holed up in an estate outside Paris. There were two armed men, a maid, and Payne. The two guards gave up immediately. We found Payne in the library, reading. He looked up and said, “Finally.” Then he pulled a gun from his drawer and killed himself. For some odd reason, I covered him with my jacket. We found Sydney in a secluded part of the house. We immediately took her to an army hospital and debriefed her.”
Sydney explained, “When I was first captured, I thought he was going to kill me, but that wasn’t what he wanted. We moved a lot for the first month or so. One day I awoke with what I thought was blood all over my neck and chest. Payne’s people had drugged me and mocked my death. When I finally recovered from the drug, I realized we had moved to the château. I questioned Payne, why? He never gave me an answer. I had my own living quarters with a kitchen, bathroom, and living room, but I was not allowed to leave. I even had a television. I saw your speech before the UN, Paolo. It was magnificent. I tried numerous times to escape, but the doors were barricaded. The last couple of weeks, he would come and have dinner with me—always civil, and with a bodyguard. He looked sick and troubled. He said he had radiation poisoning and soon I would be free. Then one morning I heard a gunshot, and Giacomo came walking through the door.”
“Amazing. And he never harmed you?”
“No.”
“Do we know why he did it?”
“Sorry, Dad, we have no idea. We’ve looked through all his records, computers—nothing.”
“Sad, that’s very sad. May God have mercy on him.”
Arnaud shook his head. “I will never understand you, my friend.”
“What about Andrew and Lisa?”
“We had a video conference call, they’re fine and looking forward to seeing me.”
“I’ll ask Tony to send over the G-V, and we’ll get back to the States tomorrow.”
“The plane is already at the Salerno airport, waiting,” Jim said.
“Excellent.”
“Dad, I think you need to get some sleep. Arnaud can have my room. I’ll sleep in Marge’s room in the spare bed. Maria has two open rooms at her place for Rami and Jim.”
“Thanks, Rio.”
They all stood. Paolo embraced Rami and Jim. He wrapped his arms around Arnaud, and the two men cried. “Good night, my friend. I’ll see you in the morning.”
&
nbsp; Paolo hugged Giacomo, “Thank you, son, thank you.”
“No problem, Dad.”
He kissed Rio, whispering, “I love you, mi amore.” He stepped back and looked in her eyes, and the two laughed.
Rami and Jim left to go to Maria’s. Rio, Giacomo and Arnaud walked upstairs. Paolo turned to Sydney. Looking in her eyes, he asked, “Would you care to sleep with me, Ms. Hill?”
“I thought you’d never ask, Mr. DeLaurentis.”
“Just so you know…I might not be able to perform.”
“You don’t have to. Your warm body is enough.”
Paolo reached in his pocket for the wrinkled, white piece of paper and gave it to Sydney. She opened it and glanced at the words. “Will you read it to me?”
Paolo wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear as a tear fell from his eye.
A yellow rose I give to you
To say how much I love you
Though we are apart and I am often blue
I think of the days that I gave a yellow rose to you
The smile on your face
The twinkle in your eye
The sound of joy in your voice
For the yellow rose I gave to you
I sit here in my dark hour
Because you are not here
Nothing else seems to matter
Until I can give you a yellow rose
A yellow rose can come and go
But the yellow rose of my heart
Will always be you.
“I love you, Sydney.”
“I love you, Paolo.”
EPILOGUE
Media across the world broadcast news of Paolo’s death. His funeral was attended by both the elite and the downtrodden of society. They offered their respects to a man who so loved a woman, his words changed the lives of many.
Colonel DeLaurentis, Rio, and Sydney went to dismantle the townhouse. Under strict orders from Paolo, no one was permitted to enter until after his death. The property was willed to Rio.
The three entered the house. As directed by his father, Giacomo went to Paolo’s study. Once there, he was to open his father’s safe. Inside was a safety deposit box to be opened on October 28 the following year.
Sydney and Rio entered the kitchen. On the table was a shoebox with Sydney’s name on it. Over two hundred pieces of folded white paper lay inside—the story of the love Paolo had for Sydney.
The following spring, the scene of nature’s new birth filled the morning air. Sydney DeLaurentis walked around her house, looking at her gardens and the work she had to do. The loneliness in her heart, the absence of Paolo in her life, filled her with sorrow. Whatever had gone wrong seemed inconsequential—the loss overwhelmed her heart.
She came to her red rose bushes. As she knelt down to clear some leaves, she began to sob. Then a tranquil peace filled her being. The pain gone, the memory of Paolo was present to her. Hidden in the barren bushes was a fully blossomed yellow rose. The fragrance overwhelmed her senses. She thought of Paolo and said, “How you will always be the yellow rose of my heart.” In the years to come, wherever she lived, there appeared a yellow rose. She never forgot the true love a man had for her and the love she had for him.
On October 28, the following year, Giacomo and Rio sat in their father’s old study. Not much had changed in the room. Law journals had replaced the various business books. Pictures of Giacomo and Rio with their mom and dad were placed throughout the room. There was a new oriental rug. Paolo’s old desk was cluttered with papers, a picture of him with Rio and Giacomo sat on the corner. A beam of sunlight shone through the window.
“How are you feeling, my older brother?”
“Better, now that I’m finally out of the hospital.”
“Tell me about it. Mom and I were worried sick. I can’t believe your fever was so high.”
“Yeah, the doctors were definitely puzzled.”
“You know, it sounds like the story of what happened to Dad when he was a boy. You didn’t see any white lights, did you?”
“No, no white lights. Do you have the key?”
“Yeah, it came yesterday via FedEx. I was surprised that we even got the package, with all the hurricane damage in Florida. All the airports were closed. I’m amazed anything got up north.”
“You’re right about that. Did you see the pictures of Florida? Totally devastated. I have no idea how they’re going to recover—let alone how the government is going to pay for it.”
Rio wiped a tear from her eye. “Those poor people. It’s unbelievable. Our world is going to hell in a hand basket. The Florida coast flooded to Lake Okeechobee, hundreds of thousands homeless. I don’t understand how the flooding could be so bad.”
“The president told me this morning that the satellite pictures show two tsunamis hit the coastline. They estimated the waves at seventy-five-feet high. Thank God the coast was evacuated. Adam was a Category 5 when it slammed into the coastline.”
“Unbelievable.” Rio had a tear in her eye as she shook her head in disbelief. She handed the key to Giacomo. Inside the safety deposit box was a note attached to a journal.
“My dear children, I take it if you are reading this, I am dead. I always wanted to say that: how corny.” Giacomo and Rio laughed. “I hope you are both okay? I’m sure you are. Anyway, attached is my journal of all the visions that I’ve had. I give this to both of you. Giacomo, with your contacts, Rio’s legal mind, and your financial resources, maybe you two can do better than I did. I love both of you. I know what you hold in your hands is a burden; I lived with it for many years. Giacomo, if you and your sister feel the burden is too great, then you have my permission to give the journal to the president. Whatever you do, it will be the right thing. There is no wrong decision. I love you, Dad.”
The son and daughter sat back on the leather couch, tears in their eyes. Rio leaned over the coffee table and picked up the journal. She sat close to her brother and opened the prophetic book. Together, they read the first page.
“When Adam, the giant hurricane, hits the coast of Florida and Lake Okeechobee becomes part of the Atlantic Ocean, from there mankind will enter an era of spasm. The earth will tax the economies of the world, igniting a maelstrom of want and greed. The nations will rise against each other as foretold, until a new era of peace, a new dawn awakens mankind…”
Messenger From God (The Last Eulogy Series Book 1) Page 34