by Kathryn Shay
The huge stucco structure loomed before her: four stories up, several wings jutting out from the sides and the back, painted a light beige, with a rust-colored tile roof. As they got closer, she caught sight of her mother in front of the large portico which sealed off the main building and had another gate. Beside her was Lexy. They both had long dark hair, and the same slim but solid builds. When the car got closer, Renata Gentileschi bounded down the steps like a young girl.
Before the car stopped, Calla turned to the man who’d helped her get home. “Thank you for the lovely talk. It was very distracting, which I’m sure was your intention. I hope your son does go to medical school.”
“My pleasure. But I’m coming into the palace to see your father. I can spare an hour.”
He seemed to be taking her security personally, and she couldn’t be upset about that. Though fear of what was to come raced through her, she quelled it. She’d do what she had to do. For Brie.
The royal guards gathered behind her mother just before Calla exited the car. They met in a luscious hug. For a moment, she luxuriated in the familiar lilac scent of Mamá, then cuddled into her chest.
“My darling Callandra,” she whispered into her daughter’s hair. “I am sorry for all you’ve been through. And I’ve missed you so.”
“I missed you, too.” She stepped back. “Now, enough. We need to take care of Gabriella. We’ll talk for a long time, Mamá, once she is safe.”
Her mother looked over at the man who had stood beside the car. “President Manwaring. Thank you for returning my daughter safely.”
“You’re very welcome.” To Calla, he said, “Thank you for your company.” Then he glanced around. “Where is Alessio?”
“Yes, Mamá, where is he?”
“He’s in his office. He’s fearful you won’t want to see him.”
Before they could move, Lexy approached them. She was always so polite, so obedient, Calla had wished she’d develop more of a backbone. “Calla, sorella, hello.”
Calla hugged Lexy. She was slimmer now. So many of them had been affected by Alessio’s decisions. “We need to catch up.”
“Let’s get the president inside.” Renata turned and led the way. Escorted by his own Secret Service detail, James Manwaring walked down the long corridor leading to her father’s office, while Calla turned the other way and linked arms with both her mother and Lexy. When they got to the first room, again with stucco walls, white this time, and several groupings of furniture, Renata stopped and took Lexy’s hand. “Darling, I need some time with Callandra. You will get to talk with her soon.”
“Yes, Mamá.” She kissed Calla’s cheeks and left them alone.
She and her mother went through two more rooms, then to the outdoor porch, where Casarina lay before them in valleys below. Calla said, “I missed this view.”
“I would, too.”
They took chairs on the stuffed furniture. Beside her on the couch, her mother took her hand.
“Mamá, what are Papá’s plans?”
“He’s taken steps to freeze Lorenzo’s assets. As king, he can do this. That’s why he called President Manwaring. Lorenzo has considerable wealth in America and he didn’t want it available to that bastardo.”
“The president and I didn’t talk about any of this on the plane.”
“Rest assured, Lorenzo won’t be allowed to return to his vineyard until he signs the annulment papers.”
“And after he signs them?”
“Vittorino will release Gabriella. When she is safe in our home, his assets will also be released.” She scowled. “I hope she isn’t being mistreated.”
“I hope not, too.” She didn’t tell her mother she’d heard Vittorino slap Brie.
“Lorenzo beat you, love. If Vittorino does the same to Gabriella...”
“Father will have him killed.”
“Let’s hope so.”
Calla studied her mother. Her face was youthful, but now lines formed around her mouth and eyes. “This has caused problems between you and Papá.”
“Of course it has. He still has much to answer for to both of us.”
“I didn’t want that.” She sighed. “I always treasured your closeness, as an example of what a relationship could be.”
“I cannot accept what he’s doing with my daughters any longer.”
Calla sat back and sighed. Maybe some good would come of her situation after all. If anyone could change Papá’s mind about adhering to archaic laws and traditions, her mother could.
“So,” Mamá said, “how did Connor take the news of you returning to Casarina? I half expected him to come with you.”
“Not very well.”
“Why?”
“Oh, Mamá, I’ve hurt him again. We were just starting to have hope, that we could be together, and Brie was taken.”
“I want to hear all about that.”
“Maybe sometime. Not now, though.”
They talked for an hour before his father’s staff chief told them President Manwaring was leaving.
After they bade the president goodbye, her mother turned to her. “Would you like to rest after your journey or are you ready to see your father?”
“I’m ready.” Though the thought made her heart gallop in her chest.
“Shall I come with you?”
“No, this is between Papá and me.”
Alone, Calla walked down the long corridor of the wing where the king’s office was located. The guards standing outside, dressed in suits, much like the Secret Service agents, opened the doors and she walked into a place she never thought she’d enter again. It smelled like her father, male smells, like leather, and a bit of musk. She remembered so much that had happened in this space: him letting her sit by while he worked, but how he would always stop to answer questions. Him telling her stories about his travels when she was doing a project for school on the U.S. His counsel on her teen angst, his advice as to which college and medical school to attend.
But she also forced herself to remember his final dictum: that she’d marry Lorenzo.
As she stepped inside, she saw he stood at the window, his back to her. She said in a strong voice, “Papá?”
He turned. As she’d noted on FaceTime, he’d aged in the months she’d been gone. In person the process was more defined. His beard was grayer and his hair, too. “Hello, Princess.” She hardly recognized his gravelly voice.
“Tell me what has been accomplished to help Gabriella.”
“I have taken steps as we speak to freeze Lorenzo’s assets. As king, I can do this. Both...”
“No,” she interrupted, which she’d been taught never to do. “I want to know about Gabriella.”
“My security has confirmed she is in Casarina. In any case, Lorenzo will not be freed until he signs the annulment papers and Gabriella is with us.”
“Shouldn’t your security forces try to find her?”
“They are, little one.”
Calla crossed the expanse that still separated them. “I want to see him and get this settled.”
“All right, but I must say a few things to you, first.”
“No, Papá. I want to help free my sister.”
“Indulge me for a moment.”
They took seats on the couch. He faced her squarely. “I was wrong to do what I did. To make you marry Lorenzo. To insist on arranged marriages for all the girls. Mamá tried to talk some sense into me, but I wouldn’t listen.”
“Papá, I—”
“Let me finish. I will never forgive myself for the misery I’ve caused you. Now, I think back and wonder how I could ever send you back to him. There is no excuse.” His head down, his hands clasped, he whispered, “I only ask you accept my apology.”
Floored, Calla stared at him. She’d never ever seen her father so obsequious. So despondent. What to do? What could she do? There was only one thing. She rose, knelt before him. And placed her hands over his. “I accept your apology, Papá. Our relationship needs mend
ing, and that might take a long time. But I know one thing. I can forgive you.”
When he looked up, unshed tears filled his eyes. She’d never seen him cry. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I’m tired of living with recriminations and grudges. I want to let all that go.” She thought of Connor who could never forgive her for the repercussions of her leaving him. How she longed for him to do so. “And because I love you, Papá.”
He took her in his arms. She let him, because she wanted to be there, too.
o0o
Learned muscle memory made Calla tense as she walked into the secure room with her mother and father, the room where her husband was confined. Funny, he didn’t look as big as she remembered from months ago. She controlled the trembling that wanted to overtake her body, but she couldn’t control the feeling of hatred for this man who had nearly ruined her life.
But he had her sister, and she had to be wise. He stood when she walked in. Something had happened to his face. Angry slashes marred his cheek. Had he been beaten? “Amore mio.”
Instead of shock at the endearment, his use of it enraged her. “Spare me the phony affection, Lorenzo. I’m here for one reason only. I want my sister back.”
“In good time.” The words oozed out of his mouth like venom.
Her father started to speak. “You—”
“No, Papá. This is my fight.” To her husband, she said, “You have no choice in this. We have the power to ruin you,” she added.
He seemed taken aback. He was either surprised at her tone or very stupid. “I’m told the papers are being drawn up. I’ll sign them.”
“I want to know one thing, Lorenzo. Why did you want to marry me? You’ve had a mistress the whole time.”
He arched a brow. “I wanted to be the father of the next king.”
At least she got him to admit that his desire to wed her had nothing to do with his feelings for her.
“That’s what I thought.” She turned to her father and accepted papers from him. “This is the annulment decree. After you sign it, Bishop Cannon is coming out to place the official seal on it.” And she had to be in Casarina for the event.
Lorenzo crossed to the desk. She noticed then he was handcuffed. He angled his chin to the other papers. “Your father must sign these, first.”
She had to move closer to him and the scratch marks looked worse from here. And his scent literally turned her stomach. It brought back visceral memories of the times he’d hit her. Ignoring all that, she scanned the documents.
“It’s a simple waiver absolving me of all prosecution for anything I’ve done up to this point.”
Holding up her hand, she ticked off on her fingers: “Let’s see, that would be assault and battery of a princess, infidelity to a princess, kidnapping a princess, and now extortion.”
His smile was a snarl. “I do not care what you say or think.”
“Well, too bad. Because there’s a lot more where that came from.”
o0o
That afternoon, the annulment of the marriage between Lorenzo Bertocchi and Callandra Gentileschi was granted.
Lorenzo was freed of all previous crimes.
And Gabriella Gentileschi walked into her parents’ home.
Chapter 11
* * *
“He sleeps all day.” Whitney’s voice held concern as she sat in her condo across the kitchen table from Max. Connor had been staying with them for a few days and they were worried about him.
“Maybe that’s the best thing. Remember what happened the last time he lost her.”
“His friend Razim was killed the night Connor got the text that she married Lorenzo.”
“It’s awful.” Max grabbed her hand over the breakfast table. “But I remember when I lost you. I was a basket case.”
Instead of teasing him, her expression was solemn. “I was, too.”
“So look at us, honey. Maybe Connor will have a happy ending.”
“Happy endings are for fairytales.” They turned to see Connor standing in the doorway. He hadn’t shaved and wore the same pajama bottoms and T-shirt for the three days since Calla left.
Deeper worry shot through Whitney. “How do you feel today?”
“Like I got hit by a train.” When she started to answer, he said, “No, don’t say anything. I’m done moping.”
“Three days isn’t that long to mope, Con.” This from Max. Whitney knew how he worried about her brother, too.
“For me it is.” He straightened and headed to the coffeepot. “Do you have any news from Casarina? I know I said I didn’t want to talk about it, but I need closure.”
“Calla emailed me,” Whitney told him. “The annulment is finalized. She’s free, but so is Lorenzo. Part of the deal was he wouldn’t be prosecuted.”
“Chalk another one up for the bad guys.” He poured himself coffee, asked if they wanted a refill and took a seat at the table. “I’m not surprised, given their laws.”
“Calla said she and Brie were staying in Casarina to work on their father to change the ‘wives are subject to their husbands ’ law. They’re not coming back until he does.”
“Then it’ll take forever. He’s got three of his daughters at home now, so he’ll do anything to keep them there.” Connor sighed.
“Con, why didn’t you go back with her?”
“She asked me to.”
Whitney and Max exchanged glances.
“You think I should have gone?”
“Connor—”
“No, tell me what you think.”
Whitney held up her head. “Yes, I think you should have gone back with her.”
His gaze shifted to Max.
“I do, too, Connor.”
“I couldn’t. But I’m done talking about this. I have to think about where my life is going. And that doesn’t include her.”
Max asked, “Will you go back to Doctors Without Borders?”
“That’s one option. Or I could go home and work in ER with Dec. I like being with family. But you know what I really want? To set up a private clinic for the poor. I’d have to get funding for it, because the money I get from my patent only covers my living expenses. Finding finances will be a hassle, but that’s a dream I have.”
“Then let’s work on that together.” Whitney felt lightened already by his interest in doing something.
He nodded and sipped his drink.
“There’s more to deal with, Con.” She took in a deep breath. “You need to see someone about the guilt you have over Razim.”
“See someone? As in a psychiatrist?”
“Or a counselor.”
He stared down at his cup. “I’ll get better. I won’t do what I did last time.”
“I don’t think you can get better by yourself.” She grasped his hand. “You talked me into getting help, Connor. Eve turned out to be a godsend. Why isn’t the same thing right for you?”
“I guess it is. I’ll think about it.” He moved back his chair.
Whitney stayed his arm. “Before we get started on researching grants, do me a favor.”
He scowled.
“Take a shower. You smell.”
“Bite me,” he said but headed down the hallway.
When he disappeared into the bedroom, Whitney looked at Max. “I’m shocked he agreed.”
“He knows that stuffing his guilt is the wrong thing to do.”
“I guess. What can we do to support him?”
“Be here for him. Help him find funding for the clinic.” He studied her. “Have you gotten your period yet?”
She bit her lip. Emotion threatened to bubble out. “This morning.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re upset.”
A couple of tears made their way down her cheek. She was incensed. She rarely cried. “I am. And I don’t understand why.”
“Don’t you?” He took her hand. “I think you wanted to be pregnant.”
“Maybe. It’s stupid. We weren’t even trying.”
“We should try.”
“Seriously?”
“Honey, if you’re disappointed, yes. For the record, so am I. We want a child more than we’re acknowledging.”
“I thought I was ready to let fate have its way.”
“Nah. You and I will give fate a push. We’ll have our way.” Then Max arched a brow. “Boy, is this going to be fun.”
o0o
Gabriella and Callandra sat at a table under the gazebo on the decking of the pool. Both were dressed for the hot weather: she wore a red skirt and white sleeveless blouse and Brie a dress from her own closet.
“Before we talk about Papá, tell me how you’re doing,” Calla said.
“As well as can be expected. I have nightmares.”
“Would you like to sleep with me? We did that when we were little.”
A small smile. “No, but thanks. I’ll get over this.”
“Mamá told me Eddie Smith kidnapped you. I don’t get it. He seemed like such a nice guy.”
She shook her head. “I was terrified when he grabbed me and dragged me out. I still can’t believe it.”
“Do you know why?”
She nodded. “Vittorino wanted to get me away without a fuss. He went to the nursing home where Eddie’s mother is and blackmailed Eddie. He said he’d kill Lucy Smith if Eddie didn’t follow his instructions.”
“What will happen to him?”
“The police will probably want to indict him, though it seems to me I’d do the same thing if they went after Mamá. I’m not going to press charges. I’m not sure that will do any good, but he had reason.”