Giovanni, My Love: A Tale of Romance & Suspense

by Lenise Lee

  Suddenly, Marco moved forward and tapped the other man’s shoulder. Marissa assumed it was a sign for the detective to ease back his forceful tone, because that was exactly what the second investigator did. After Marco laid his hand on him, Detective James rolled his eyes and walked to the rear of the room.

  “Marissa.” Marco started his sentence with a trace of sweet sincerity hiding in his voice. A hint of his gentle nature peeked from behind his pale blue eyes. “I understand your confusion.”

  “No…you don’t.” Marissa abruptly cut his words. She wanted none of whatever kindness he was trying to share with her. His sentiment could not possibly be sincere, just more mind games and cruel taunting of her sensitive emotions. “You don’t understand anything that I’m feeling right now. Everything I thought I knew about you is a lie…every word you said is worthless…and you have no idea how much that hurts.”

  Her sharp rebuke must have flicked a switch in his mind. Marcello’s gaze softened. His eyes became desperate to connect with hers on a deeper level.

  After a brief pause, Marco looked over at Detective James.

  “Please allow Ms. Stiles and I a moment to speak in private.”

  Whoever he really was, Marco’s authority must have overshadowed the police officer’s rank. Clearly, the detective was reluctant to leave; however, he quickly obeyed the request and exited the interview.

  Once the cop was gone, Marco pulled out the chair facing Marissa and sat down. He folded his hands on the table. Even though the agent did not make any motion to reach for her, a burst of magnetic energy touched Marissa’s hands, as if his fingers were pulsing to touch the woman’s skin. His blue stare, although not as effective as it had been earlier in the evening, still managed to pull her mind into a profound connection with his. The weight of the powerful and unexplainable bond Marissa shared with the deceiving man made hearing Marco’s second confession of the night even more devastating.

  “What I am about to tell you is a matter of great importance.” Marco looked straight ahead the entire time, never once dropping eye contact with the disheartened woman. “Under penalty of imprisonment, you are legally bound by the terms of an international treaty between your government and my own never to repeat what I say.” Marissa did not respond, only stared blankly at the stranger sitting in front of her. He swallowed hard before continuing. “I am a special operative for an agency known as the GEA…the Global Extraction Association. Publicly, its primary purpose is to track and monitor the sales and exchange of priceless items from antiquity. In truth, it is a covert anti-terrorism bureau that falls under the shared jurisdiction of several nations. The value of money shifts from day to day on a volatile international stock market. Many crimes across the world are now financed with rare artifacts from history…gold excavated from ancient sites, coins and relics from unearthed societies…and precious gems retrieved from prehistoric ruins.

  “The case I am currently working on involves a set of jewels from the early Renaissance Period. They are classified as the Giovanni Diamonds, and were named after a wealthy Roman merchant. His power, wealth, and influence were without limit during that time. At some point over his lifetime, he financed a pilgrimage to the Holy Land where his servants unearthed a trove of very rare diamonds, which were almost perfectly cut, even in their natural state. These diamonds and many of the merchant’s valuables were lost over the centuries since his death and the downfall of his family’s fortune. However, a few years ago, they were discovered inside of a castle wall within one of Rome’s ancient city-state landmarks. Recently, my agency received a report confirming the attempted theft of the jewels from the museum that housed them. We also received credible information that, when captured and sold, the diamonds would be used as currency to purchase and smuggle a large shipment of dangerous weapons across international waters. We immediately went to work to prevent this from happening. We secured the Giovanni gems at one of our secure facilities and immediately began to track down the cartel that tried to steal them. The next phase was to trace the buyers who sent the original bid and use them to discover the name of the terrorist group who would supply the weapons.

  “Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago…Our analysts followed the money trail to this city, but then our leads went cold. We needed to set a trap for the anonymous buyers, so we could draw these horrible criminals out of hiding and shut down their weapons trafficking as quickly and thoroughly as possible. Katerina and I were posing as the sellers of the Giovanni Diamonds. We were going to contact various moles throughout the region and begin a silent auction for the jewels. Once they were sold, a beacon planted inside the stones would track them anywhere around the world. As you can see, several problems have arisen since then. The most serious being the death of Katerina, the second is that I am back at the beginning, with many suspects and few pieces of evidence to tie anyone to these crimes. I have no proof yet, but I am certain Katerina’s surprising death may be linked to our case. There are missing pieces which I need to uncover, and I am asking for your help, Marissa.”

  An offensive wall went up between Marissa and Marco.

  “Marissa?” She sat up straighter in the stiff chair and narrowed her eyes at him. “Now it’s Marissa, and not Ms. Stiles.”

  A look of pain hung low over Marco’s face.

  “Until tonight, I was not certain of your level of involvement with this investigation. A few days before our arrival to New York, the analysts were able to decipher the digital signature of the last payment sent to the first thieves who tried to take the diamonds. The transaction originated from somewhere within your hotel. For this reason, all personnel, especially senior staff, were considered suspects…including you.”

  A ragged tear cut straight down the middle of her heart. The rip was so intense that Marissa heard the horrible sound scraping across her eardrums. The sickening feeling from the betrayal saturated her belly like hot coals.

  “So…all of this between you and I really was a…lie…deception…an act…just to study me and figure out if I were a criminal or not,” she said, unable to raise her voice above a hopeless whisper.

  Marissa’s spirit would forever be marred by this huge gash of devastation and embarrassment she was suffering from.

  “No, Marissa,” Marco’s words flew from his mouth.

  He tried to reach for her. This time, however, Marissa was faster and snatched her hands away before Marcello could capture them. Her hazel eyes gouged his blue ones.

  “Why would you do this to me?” Her tone pushed higher. “Why would you make me believe you had real feelings for me…and that you…might have,” she hesitated. Hot tears threatened to burst forth at any moment, but she forced the words out. “I thought you might have…loved me…but the truth is that you were only spying on me.”

  “Amore…please listen,” the anxious man pleaded.

  “Stop saying that!” She yelled out her frustration as the streams of salty liquid began to drip from beneath her eyelashes. “You don’t mean it…you never did.”

  “Marissa, what I told you at dinner is the truth.” Marcello leaned forward and used his thumb to flick the warm drizzle off each of her cheeks.

  She didn’t move away because she was too weak to cringe back. The weight of this revelation had drained all her strength.

  “I would risk anything and everything to protect you, right now and…when we crossed paths on a dark street two days ago.”

  Her eyes dashed in Marco’s direction. Why hadn’t Marissa seen this before? Bold, crisp blue eyes, the same color as those of her hooded hero, flashed back at her. Had she been so blinded by a silly adolescent crush that the woman had completely missed the very first clue to Marco’s deceit?

  “You were one of the men from the alley?”

  He nodded.

  “You were…watching me…following me…that night?”

  His expression turned grim as Marco offered another nod.

  “For how long?”

  “
One week.”

  “I think I’m going to be sick.” Nausea swiftly replaced heartache. She grabbed the wretched man’s palms and shoved them away from her face. Marissa was too repulsed by Marcello to have his skin touching hers. “The mugger…was he working with you? Did you plan that attack to steal my badge?” She didn’t give him a moment to respond before another burst of anger overcame her. “I wish I could have seen the stupid looks on your faces when you figured out it wouldn’t work. I deactivated that card the morning after you tried to mug me in the alley. That plastic card would have been useless to anyone after that.”

  Immediately after she spoke her furious words, Marissa dropped her head and sobbed into her shaky hands. Marco stood and rounded the table that separated them. He kneeled before her and cupped her hands in his big palms. In determined defiance, the weeping woman turned her sight away, refusing to look at him. Marco wasted no time in trying to cough up a desperate explanation.

  “Marissa,” he pulled her fingers to his cherry lips. The warmth of his mouth nearly caused a tremble in her thighs, but Marissa swiftly pushed back the rebellious quiver. “That is not how it happened. I assigned myself to shadow you, and left the task of observing the rest of the senior staff to other agents. That night, when I saw that you were in trouble…I abandoned my post and my cover to save you. If you had recognized my face the next day…when we were first introduced in person…my entire mission might have been destroyed with one glance.” He kissed the inside of her palms softly. “This is how much I care for you…I have already risked so much to keep you out of harm’s way. I know you had nothing to do with Katerina’s death, and I will make sure the local authorities know this as well.”

  Marissa’s face snapped back to him; she lowered her eyebrows.

  “Is that the real reason why you sent me on the day trip and took me to dinner? So I would have any alibi when your mess finally unraveled? If I had not been with you tonight, would I have been the one in a morgue right now? Is this the way you protect the people that you care for…by leading them into the crosshairs of danger and doom?”

  Marissa pulled her fingers from his lips and stood up. She stepped around the bent man and marched straight for the door. Marcello followed her to the exit. He stopped close behind, but made no motion to reclaim her.

  “Marissa, please…do not say these things.”

  “Agent Rossi, you’re holding me without cause and without counsel. I don’t care what international crime fighting agency you work for, I’m an American in an American city, and what you’re doing is illegal.” Marissa grabbed the doorknob and held on for dear life; it was the only motion that was keeping her from crumbling to the floor. “Either you let me leave or you’ll be reading about what happened to me in the early edition of tomorrow’s newspaper. I would rather accept the consequences of revealing the details of our conversation than have to be near you for one more minute.”

  “The door is not locked,” Marcello murmured from close by. His breath floated across the tip of her ear, but Marissa held her ground and would not be enticed by this subtle temptation. “You are free to go. Be advised that you will be under observation at your apartment. My team still needs to sort out some other matters.”

  Marissa didn’t bother to respond. The shaken and hostile woman pulled the door open then slammed it shut after she crossed the threshold.

  On her way up the corridor, which was severely overcrowded with uniformed officers and various levels of offenders, Marissa passed two more interview rooms. She paused briefly at the last two she walked by, making a mental note that she had spotted her manager, Dennis Schaeffer, sitting slumped in one of the spaces and the hotel’s second supervisor, Julius Smith, in another. Each man was wearing a nervous and feverishly red face.

  Seconds later, two more familiar faces appeared in the distance ahead. At the end of the long and dismal hall, near the edge of a busy and cramped receiving area, were a very pregnant Nichole, a distraught Jasmine, and the worried face of the young man who had been her driver earlier tonight. Marissa’s mind was racing with so much fear that she could not recall his name at this exact moment.

  “Jasmine…Nichole,” Marissa cried out. She darted forward with frantic arms waving at her loved ones. Using her slim weight, Marissa pushed through small groups of people who were blocking her path until she finally reached her family. “What’s going on? What happened?”

  At first sight, the two disturbed women appeared equally as surprised at seeing her in the police station. After a few delayed seconds, each of the other women came closer then wrapped weak arms around Marissa.

  “Oh, Missy,” Jasmine mumbled under shaky breaths, “I…I don’t know what happened.” The younger woman moved away and tried to steady her speech. “As soon as I stepped into the front room, I knew…I could feel someone else was in there, so I just ran. I heard whoever it was running out the door behind me, but…thank God…the elevator hadn’t moved. I pushed the button and left before he got there.”

  “Are you hurt?” Marissa began a frenzied visual survey of her sister, from head to shoe and then up again.

  “No…no, I’m fine. I went downstairs and told security. By the time they reached the apartment, there was no one there…but…”

  “But, what?” Marissa grabbed her frightened sibling’s hand, urging the girl to continue.

  “The guards said that everything in the apartment was torn to pieces. They said the robber must have been looking for cash or jewelry…or something else to take and sell. I met Alex and Nichole downstairs…”

  While Jasmine continued to give a replay of the shocking tale, her voice faded into the distance. Could the thief have been searching for the infamous diamonds Marco had told Marissa about a few minutes ago? She had no proof to support the theory spinning around in her head; even so, the scenario Marissa’s mind summoned up was terrifying. Had the same man who had grabbed her on the street been the same devious person who had forced his way into her apartment and scattered her belongings to the wind? More questions rapidly tumbled through her thoughts. Like a relentless whirlwind, they repeatedly buzzed her brain – If this were true, how had he reactivated her card? Why had no one noticed him roaming around on the employee floor? The last questions were even more chilling than all the rest…Jewelry…They must have been looking for jewelry, is what Jasmine had said. Where was her faceless stalker lurking right now? From what blackened corner were his wicked eyes glaring at her?

  Had the stinging words Marissa screeched at Marco been ominously true? Had some perilous finger marked her for death? If fate and Marco had not intervened in her life once more tonight, would Marissa have been the villain’s second victim of the evening?

  When a harsh shudder ran down her back, Marissa suddenly realized how ridiculous she must have appeared. Standing in the middle of a police station wearing a formal gown, jeweled sandals, and a tiara sitting on top of her head, she must have looked like a dethroned and humiliated princess with no homeland to return to. The crushing weight of nakedness and fear descended down and clung to Marissa’s body mercilessly.

  Despite having sworn a second oath in her mind that she never wanted to see his face again, Marco’s arms were the only safe refuge Marissa wanted to retreat to. Nevertheless, in spite of this strong yearning, Marissa would have to face the gloom of this dark horizon alone. Marcello Rossi was the enemy now, not her long-awaited prince.

  Chapter Ten

  Aftershock

  The trio of women arrived at the hotel shortly after 3 AM. The chauffer, Alex, was kind enough to sit and wait while Jasmine gave her statement to the police. Even as Marissa insisted that she could call a cab, the ever-cheerful man continued to smile politely and wave away her concerns. He seemed determined to stay so he could give them a ride home. Although she kept her opinion mute, Marissa was certain that Alex’s sudden fondness for her little sister was probably the cause of his after-hours dedication.

  During the drive back to the hote
l, the women talked amongst themselves and quickly made new housing arrangements. In a single night, their feeling of safety and comfort had been shattered. There was no possible way any of them would be able to sleep within five feet of the violated apartment. Even though Marissa felt obligated to remain near the place that was both her home and her office, she wouldn’t allow her pregnant best friend and younger sibling to return until all the chaotic nonsense was finally settled. It was decided that Jasmine would return with Nichole to her house in Timber Falls, NJ and Marissa would take up temporary residence in one of the vacant employee units. Since the officer who had taken Jasmine’s report sternly cautioned them against returning to the apartment before daybreak, Nichole and Jasmine would have to leave with only the clothes they were wearing.

  After the limo pulled up to the hotel’s driveway, Marissa and Nichole slid from the backseat and drudged toward the sliding doors, but Jasmine stayed behind to whisper a thanks to Alex for all his time and help. The instant Marissa walked into the foyer, she immediately sensed the high tension lurking in every corner of the once serene and charming atmosphere. The regal elegance of La Grande Roi had been hastily replaced with fear and apprehension. Morbid dread was written all over the faces of the staff and guests who were still roaming around the expansive space. Each person stared at the others with grave caution. It was as though they were all anxiously expecting to be attacked at any second, even in full view of the pre-dawn crowd.

  Grim faces were not the only drastic change Marissa noted upon arriving at the hotel. Several men with hulking bodies, cold stares as hard and blank as stone, and dressed in midnight black military-style uniforms had mysteriously appeared during her absence. Each member of the ferocious-looking armed and silent militia stood in combat stances at various places throughout the hushed atrium. Whoever they were – possibly from an elite special-forces unit or emergency tactical team – none of them were from the security agency the hotel contracted with. Marissa’s best guess led her suspicions back to one name. Agent Marco. The very sound of his name, even when spoken in her thoughts, caused a double torrent of frustration and annoyance to flash through her mind. To cool her rising temper, Marissa turned her focus in another, less aggravating, direction.