Stepping into the Little Church’s narthex, Luigi veered around the tall figure of Christ on the cross and over to the font of holy water, into which he dipped his fingers and then crossed himself as he studied the impressive stairway leading up to the altar. Maybe Negrali liked being so high above everyone else.
“You cannot come in here,” a firm voice declared.
Luigi turned to see two elderly monsignors pointing a scantily clad woman to the door.
“I can put my coat on,” she whined.
“You certainly can, just outside,” was their response.
She dragged a fur coat over her bare shoulders, and because her dress was so short, she appeared to be naked beneath it. A relieved young man put a cigarette between his lips and followed her out.
Luigi approached the monsignors. “Scusi, I’m looking for Cardinal Negrali.”
Their bright eyes sized him up. “Is this official police business?”
“At this time, no.”
“We will tell His Eminence at once. Your name?”
“Detective Luigi Lampani.” To show respect, he added, “I should have made an appointment.”
“He is always happy to help the police.”
“Grazie.”
One of the men moved so swiftly and smoothly, his black robes fanned out behind him like wings. He disappeared through a door in the back while the other stood staring at Luigi. After a beat, he said, “Sì, it does well to aid the police. The Mafia is feasting on the rest of Italy, we must help the police keep strong here in il Veneto.”
“True.”
“That Mafia trial in September had us on the edge of our seats,” the old man continued.
“It surely did.”
“Too bad don Giancarlo Petrosino was found ‘not guilty.’” It was said with such neutrality, Luigi wondered if it was a condemnation, but decided he was too tired to care.
The monsignor continued, “Well, he cleared off back to Sicily, so I think he got the message. No Mafia! Venezia è sacra.”
Cardinal Negrali came hurrying toward him at the same pace as his subordinate, his red robes streaming out making him look like a Christmas bell. He sported the biggest cross Luigi had ever seen on a person’s chest. He must have missed it when he was surveilling Raphielli because the cardinal had always worn a coat.
“Detective.”
Up close, Luigi was reminded of a bird of prey, maybe a hawk. “Eminenza…”
“I’m on my way to Chiesa di San Canciano. If you accompany me, we can speak as we walk.”
“Grazie, bene.”
“Is the rain holding off?”
“For the moment, sì.”
Luigi waited while one of the old monsignors helped Negrali on with his coat, then followed the cardinal out the front door and around the edge of the canal before falling into step with Negrali along the fondamenta.
“How can I help the police?”
“I’m sure you’re aware of the recent local murders, in particular, Salvio, the heir to the Scortini building dynasty.”
“Sì.”
Luigi felt the tingle of perception. The cardinal should have asked about details, started pumping him for information, but he was monosyllabic. He was hiding something.
“You’re acquainted with that family?”
“I’m a scholar of Saint Vincent Ferrer, patron saint of builders, and have been the Scortini family’s spiritual patriarch for years. I’m Raphielli Scortini’s father confessor.”
“Oh?” Luigi feigned surprise. “As the head of the College of Cardinals, I wouldn’t think you had time, what with the recent scandal on birth control and that bad business with Cardinals Arguelles and Klerk in the news.”
The look of pious pain that settled on the old man’s face was worthy of a painting.
“The church will return to the conservative teachings and things will right themselves.”
“So, you find time to hear the confessions of a twenty-year-old heiress?”
“I find time for those to whom I’ve made a commitment. Raphielli is young and naïve, and I’m serving as executor of her estate.”
Ah, now it made sense. Luigi knew from a banker friend that Raphielli was now probably the wealthiest woman in the world, and that Vincenzo Verona was helping her create a gargantuan trust. Negrali, being the kind of man who used the offerings of the Catholic faithful to desalinate the marble of his favorite church instead of feeding the poor, wouldn’t hesitate to pounce on Raphielli’s money.
“So, you’ll be able to tell me who I should speak to about Salvio’s funeral arrangements.”
“I’m personally handling that service.”
“There won’t be a lot of friends coming, I’d assume.”
“Salvio didn’t have any, no. But his father and his grandfather had many, many friends. They’ll come out of respect.”
“When is it?”
“The day after tomorrow. I’ll be in Rome for Count Verona’s sunrise funeral, then back on the train to preside over Salvio’s that evening.”
Luigi would do likewise. “Where will it be?”
“Chiesa di Santa Maria dei Miracoli at seven forty-five.”
They’d arrived at San Canciano as rain began to spatter, so Luigi tossed out a final hook. “I’ll be attending both funerals, part of our surveillance to identify the hit men who conspired to kill Gabrieli and are still hunting Raphielli.”
“Hit men? It was Salvio.” He started to say more but started coughing. A priest, who’d been watching from the church door, came running out with an umbrella and after positioning it over the cardinal’s head, he clapped him on the back a few times.
“Grazie, Eminenza, I’ll see you in Rome.” Luigi took notice of Negrali’s alarmed expression before turning and splashing hurriedly across the campo. Ha! I made the greedy old cleric choke. Scholar of the patron saint of builders, my ass.
There was a good chance this mighty cardinal would get himself bumped off by a hit man if he got too close to Raphielli. Luigi had never met anyone more shy than Raphielli Scortini. The unfortunate girl probably had nothing to confess to this power player—she was ripe for exploitation.
Ripe was a good word for Raphielli. She was a delicious mixture of fresh innocence in a body that wouldn’t quit. And now that she’d updated her wardrobe—no longer wearing some old woman’s cast-off clothes—she was positively arresting. Nothing showy, but last night in Salvio’s office, her wet clothes hugged her curves in a way that was downright primal. Sure, she had a big sweater pulled over the ensemble, but Luigi’s powers of perception were superior to a cardigan’s power of concealment.
Next, he visited the area churches to see if the Amendolas attended or if they planned a prayer vigil. Zilch. Then he went back to headquarters and called every Catholic church in Venice and the surrounding areas. Nothing. While chewing aspirin tablets to stave off a headache, he read every page in every file on the Scortini case, then logged into the computer system and found everything he could on the Amendolas…which was nothing.
Now, with a headache blooming behind the bridge of his nose, he plodded home to get a proper nap.
Gina would never forget her first time with Vincenzo. Arriving at the luxury apartment building, she’d done as Vincenzo had asked and told the doorman she was visiting Leonardo Trentori. After being admitted, she took the elevator to the third floor and walked along the plush runners to the boys’ unit. She gave the doorbell a poke and had just enough time to take a deep breath before the apartment door opened wide. Vincenzo stood before her in a button-down shirt, dress pants, and driving moccasins. He was taller than she remembered. He looked happy to see her, and he was even more beautiful than she’d remembered.
Her mouth went dry. “Ciao, Vincenzo.”
“Ciao,” he said. “Per favore, call me V.” He hesitated, appearing nervous.
Not good, nervous isn’t going to help him perform. Break the ice. “Okay, V.” She peeked over his shoulder. “Your place
is beautiful. You know, whenever you and Giselle were in town from Paris, I thought you two lived in the palazzo with your parents.” Ooh! Why did I bring up his parents! I don’t want to make him cry!
“Yeah, well, for obvious reasons, Leo and I never told anyone that this was our apartment. We’ve led everyone to believe that when I’m here, I’m visiting my best friend and accountant, working on financial transactions.”
“That’s right, he’s your accountant. Well, you both did an excellent job of keeping up appearances. Where’s your bodyguard?”
“He’s around,” he said waving vaguely to the building’s public hallways behind her.
“Invite her in and let’s have some refreshments,” Leonardo called from somewhere behind Vincenzo.
V ushered her into the living room. All the furnishings had clean modern lines. Everything was oversized and custom made to fit the grand proportions of the rooms without looking ostentatious. The sofas and ottomans were generous, but the place didn’t look like a hotel lobby. It looked homey, filled with mementos from their travels and life together. Vincenzo made her coat disappear into a closet as she moved toward Leonardo, who was coming out of the kitchen with a tray.
“We can’t thank you enough for doing this,” Leonardo said. He was smiling serenely as he set a tray of cut fruit, chilled wine, and bottled water on a table. “When you’ve been at Juliette’s side, I never really looked at you. You’re lovely, Gina.”
“Grazie. I guess I like my hands.”
Vincenzo took one of them and led her to the couch. “Sì, your hands are beautiful, and so are you.”
“Grazie… Should we get started, and then get to know each other afterward?” Her voice faltered. “Sorry, that sounded so lame and pushy at the same time.”
“No, you’re right. Trying to make this into a seduction would be an awkward failure, I’m afraid.”
“No seduction needed, I’m ready to…oh gosh…what do I say? Receive you?” She cast about for something to do with her mouth other than talk. She plucked a grape from the tray and nibbled it.
Vincenzo said, “We think we can make the whole experience pleasant and enjoy the situation we find ourselves in. Let’s begin so we don’t become even more inhibited.” He poured a glass of wine for himself and one for Leonardo. “What would you like to drink, Gina?”
“Water, per favore.”
As Vincenzo poured she said, “That’s a nice sweater, Leonardo.”
“Grazie, and call me Leo.”
“Would you take it off?” she said as she unzipped her boots.
She felt Vincenzo’s eyes on them as Leonardo started to undress. She stood to help him, and they ended up slowly undressing each other. He knelt to remove her boots and she lay back on the big couch admiring him. His chest and shoulders were sculpted perfection. Both he and V had a reputation for championship sculling on the Venetian canals and the rivers of France. His upper body showed how effective rowing was as resistance training.
Vincenzo placed her glass of water on the table and came to stand behind her. He stripped his clothes off, nosed the nape of her neck, and inhaled deeply. Gina felt him shiver minutely as a wave of arousal hit him. He inhaled again and kissed the back of her neck while Leonardo stood in front of her. She put her arms around Leo, and he pressed fully against her, enfolding her completely. Vincenzo felt Leo’s hands reach out and stroke him as he bent forward and started nibbling on Vincenzo’s neck. They stood with her sandwiched between them, both reaching between her parted legs, explored her body, stroking, and kissing her while teasing each other.
Her knees went weak and she moved from between them to sit on the couch and watch them kiss. After a bit, Leonardo came and knelt in front of her, kissing her inner thighs, and stroked one of her socks off with smooth caresses down her calf. Vincenzo knelt and kissed her thigh as he began drawing her other sock off. Leo slipped her panties down, and Vincenzo removed them and began to knead and nibble her thigh as she let it drop to the side to make room for what Leonardo was doing. He appeared to be fascinated by her privates, touching, stroking, and then reached for a small item on the table, which she realized was a vibrator.
“I bought this for you. Is it okay if I touch you with it?”
“Sì.”
“It’s on the lowest setting, and I’ll start with your thigh, okay?”
“Sì.” She closed her eyes and reached for Vincenzo’s hair as he nibbled his way toward her hip and watched.
Leonardo was like a child with a new toy as he applied the vibrator lightly and asked her to guide him with it. Vincenzo stood up and finished undressing. Gina watched him with hooded eyes, and he enjoyed her eyes on him—he was aroused by how attractive she appeared to find him. He drank in her desire for him, and then she looked back down with hungry eyes at Leonardo, who was still kneeling before her. He had moved the device upward and appeared to have learned quickly how to control her breathing with what he was doing between her legs.
Vincenzo was incredibly aroused as she turned her attention away from Leo and beckoned the naked Vincenzo to come closer. She reached out and took hold of his cock and stroked it in a way Leonardo never had, soft, and yet strong. She took him in her mouth and it felt so good he had to steady himself. Leo looked up from biting her thighs, and while the device hummed quietly, he slipped a finger inside her and said, “I shouldn’t have worried. You two look like you’re having fun.”
“Oh, Leo, she’s really good at this. Gina, you’re amazing at giving head.”
“Will you do it for me?” Leo asked and removed his finger from her wetness.
She gave Vincenzo a final lick before saying, “Sì, stand up, per favore.”
Turning off the device, he stood next to Vincenzo and said in a voice tight with desire, “I believe I have you ready. Can you take Vincenzo now?”
She nodded, and Vincenzo sank to his knees between her legs. She guided him inside her as she took Leonardo in her mouth. Vincenzo found himself stroking inside something he’d never felt before, and it was glorious. Her body was fit, spare, nothing jiggling or curvy. Her skin was creamy pale like a pearl next to his and Leonardo’s olive skin. She undulated her hips in a rhythm that he joined in, and she watched as Leo leaned over to kiss Vincenzo passionately.
Leo was on the verge of coming and pulled back to watch. Both men were overcome watching the other taking pleasure from Gina. She’d opened her thighs wide and was scratching Vincenzo’s back while pulling him in. Then she began to shudder, and he lost all control as she wrapped her legs around his hips. Leonardo withdrew from her mouth and turned to let Vincenzo finish him off as Gina cried out something unintelligible. The three collapsed in a heap on the couch.
“Wow!” she panted. “You two never did that with Giselle?”
“What? No! She’s like our sister,” Vincenzo said.
She fanned her face. “Some sister.”
Leonardo seemed surprized. “Oh-ho! What’s this? You like Giselle?”
“Are you kidding? Every man in the world—except you two apparently—wants her and every woman wants to be her. But yeah, I have a girl crush on her.”
“A girl crush? Really?”
“Anyone else?” Vincenzo asked.
“Mmm…I recently met Raphielli Scortini.”
“You find Raphielli desirable?” Leonardo lifted his head from Gina’s stomach and stared at her. “You certainly don’t have a type. She’s nothing like Giselle.”
“She isn’t tall, but there’s something larger than life about her. That delicate pale skin, dramatic brows, big dark eyes, and voluminous black ringlets falling below her shoulders…” Gina made a little sound like a cat purring. “She’s shaped like a fantasy woman with those big breasts and round hips.”
“Have you ever been with another woman?”
“No, so you could just call it an attraction, I guess.” Pouching her lips out in thought, she closed her eyes before saying, “A big part of the attraction is their accomplish
ments. Giselle and her dangerous sculptures taking the art world by storm, and Raphielli is just out of her teens and establishing her own women’s shelter…both so ballsy.”
“You’re a very interesting person, Gina,” Leo said as he stroked his palm across one of her nipples, making it harden. “And very candid.”
Vincenzo lazily lifted his head from Gina’s thigh. “I think this baby making will provide an enjoyable six days.”
“I agree.” Gina looked down at him as she ran her fingers through Leonardo’s hair feeling the silky thickness. His short black curls were lush. “This was the best sex I’ve ever had.”
Leo smiled. “Glad to hear it.”
“Mmm, this was good for me… more fun than I expected,” Vincenzo said. “It’s like you’re somehow familiar.” Vincenzo rolled over to lie on his back, watching her admire him.
“I was just going to say that. She’s somehow familiar.”
“Have you had much sex?” Vincenzo asked her.
“No. And this is my first unprotected sex.”
“Leo and I have only ever been with each other. We were young, virgins.”
Leo glanced up at the clock. “We need to get cleaned up and over to the palazzo for dinner with your mother.”
The boys took a quick shower and then she hopped in to rinse off. When they left the apartment building a bodyguard appeared from the shadows and stayed close as they walked to Vincenzo’s boat.
In the lamplight she saw that the steps to the palazzo were mounded with flowers from mourners. Photos of Count Gabrieli drooped inside plastic sleeves hung from light posts and placed on benches. She’d been to the Verona palazzo a handful of times—always enjoying the lively atmosphere—attending charity events held in various formal rooms. Now, the halls were quiet and the servants were somber, moving silently along thickly carpeted stairs that wound like a wedding cake up four grand floors stacking opulence on top of grandeur. Servants took their coats and then disappeared.
Vincenzo moved at Gina’s side, keeping his hand either at the small of her back or her elbow in a familiar manner that was intimate in a courtly way, something she’d seen him do with Giselle. She was conscious of Leonardo trailing behind, a long-practiced trick of keeping a woman between them to discourage the mental picture of the boys together. Leonardo already seemed a bit protective of her, and she wasn’t even carrying the baby yet.
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