Falling for Italy Read online

  “It was for the best, amore. You heard what that lunatic said. Not a soul knows we have this amulet. If any other crazy bastard found out somehow, this infernal hunt for it would never stop.”

  “Yeah. Do you think—” she began, then took out the amulet from her pocket and studied it carefully, reverentially. The old silver shone, catching sunrays with its ruby center. She stared at it, as though seeing it for the first time, trying to penetrate with her eyes the very soul of that stone. She imagined it in the hands of mysterious people in black clothes, chanting or casting spells in dark rooms or under the moonlight, and shuddered. “Do you think the story Tony told us was true? That the amulet has magic powers?”

  He snorted, but without much conviction.

  “Right. It’s just an object, Sonia. Metal and stone. Its history could be true and I intend to do some research about that. But the magic powers stuff—that’s just the figment of delusional minds. However, since the world is full of madmen, we have to make sure not a soul knows about it. No more wearing it,” he cautioned her, raising his index finger.

  “Maybe this saved our lives.”

  “Are you kidding? You saved our lives. Did I thank you for that?”

  She puffed out an amused breath.

  “No need. You’re the one who saved us both by taking that gun. I nearly cried with joy when I felt it under your sweater.”

  “I thought you’d never find it,” he confessed, shaking his head. “Thank God I was too furious to put on my jacket.”

  They were quiet for a time, listening to the purring engine and watching the demarcation lines they were leaving behind on the highway.

  “I was about to say I’m glad it’s over,” she spoke again, absently tucking the pendant back in her jeans pocket. “But there’s one other person who knows we have it. The old antiquarian. We must find him.”

  “I know. We’re heading straight to his shop when we reach Firenze,” Giovanni said curtly, his face set in grim lines.

  But when they reached Florence, they didn’t find the old man.

  They parked the car as close as they could to the place where they’d stumbled across the bizarre antique shop no more than a couple of weeks before, on a cold, dark December evening. Hand in hand, they walked at a quick pace along the narrow street with its tall, crammed buildings and old stone pavement.

  It was the second of January and all the shops were closed, the streets empty. People were probably snuggling in their homes, recovering from New Year’s parties and celebrations, so they didn’t expect to see the row of paintings adorning the sidewalk next to the shop, as they had the first time. And of course, the street was deserted. No paintings, no movement.

  But what astonished them the most was that, when they reached the place where the shop’s front door had been, they found nothing but a flat brick wall.

  They stopped dead, looking up, shading their eyes from the strong sunlight. They couldn’t believe the antique shop was gone. Vanished.

  “What the hell…” Giovanni said on a gust of disbelief.

  “Are you sure this is the place?” Sonia asked him, as dismayed as he was, glancing around for any sign of a person who could give them indications or explanations.

  “Of course I’m sure. It was right here.” He touched the gray brick with his fingers. “This is crazy!” he exclaimed, dragging both hands through his short hair in absolute frustration.

  Sonia spotted a woman shaking out a quilt on one of the upper floor balconies, a few windows down from the place they were standing. She hurried to catch her, speaking loudly in her limited Italian.

  “Signora! Mi scusi! A shop…here?” She pointed out to where Giovanni stood.

  Since the woman looked down at her in apparent confusion, Giovanni came to her rescue and explained in Italian what they were looking for. Sonia could understand the gist of his words, but she wasn’t yet able to express herself very articulately.

  The woman listened to Giovanni, putting her quilt on the balcony railing and supporting her elbows on it. Her long, dark hair blew in the wind as her dark eyes focused on them, wide in surprise.

  “Yes, there was an antique shop there.” She indicated the place with a slender hand. “But it closed, about two weeks ago. Old Massimo sold the shop and left without a word to anybody. He had the shop for many, many years, but now nobody knows anything of his whereabouts.”

  “Massimo?” Sonia and Giovanni asked in unison.

  The woman stared at them, then laughed lightly.

  “You are looking for someone and don’t even know his name? The owner of the shop was called Massimo. Massimo Mascherati.”

  Epilogue

  “I can’t believe I’m getting married!” Sonia told Linda, studying herself in the mirror. She’d chosen a simple white dress, strapless, with a long, fluffy skirt hem-lined with pearls. She wore the pearl earrings and necklace Giovanni had given her, and a stylish pearl tiara.

  Linda came up behind her and hugged her, putting her face close to hers. They smiled at each other in the mirror, holding on tight to one another. They looked so different—Sonia with her black hair and dark round eyes, and Linda a blonde beauty with slanted blue eyes and pale skin. But she and her soon-to-be sister-in-law had bonded beyond words during the past two months.

  “I can,” Linda said, squeezing her shoulders, a wide grin splitting her face. “You look gorgeous, cara. Giovanni couldn’t have chosen a better wife,” she added as tears glinted in her eyes.

  “Oh, no! Don’t start the waterworks,” Sonia cautioned, feeling tears of happiness stinging her own eyes. “We’ve already been over that. No more crying.”

  “Okay. I’m done. Now, let’s hurry, babe, it’s getting late.” Linda fussed over her, consulting her watch and looking her up and down. “Dress—check. Hair—gorgeous. Makeup—perfect. Jewelry—fabulous! Well, I think you’re ready to go,” she concluded, biting her lower lip to contain a permanent wide smile. “Need anything else?”

  Sonia glanced again in the mirror, and then lowered her gaze to her vanity. Among tons of cosmetics and other female paraphernalia, there was the old wooden jewelry box. She lifted the lid with a single finger, looking down at the silver and ruby pendant. Linda fell quiet.

  “I was thinking of wearing this, just for today,” she admitted to her sister-in-law, “but I know it’s not safe.”

  Linda approached the vanity, gazing down at the amulet that her brother and his future wife had nearly been killed for.

  “No, you’d better not. I’m still not sure it’s safe to own this, Sonia.”

  “What could we have done with it? Throw it away? Old Massimo wanted us to have it, Linda. He gave it to us. For some reason, he thought we were worthy of having it. I think he knew the outcome of his actions before he gave it to us. Maybe that’s why he did. So we could discover Tony’s treachery and evilness, so we could stop him.”

  Linda’s face clouded for a brief second, and Sonia knew she was blaming herself for Tony Barella’s actions. She turned to her, taking her hands and pressing them between her own.

  “He was evil, Linda. Evil and mad. I have no right to judge anyone, but he deserved to die. Now that he’s gone, Gerard is becoming more successful by the hour. His treatments cure dozens of people every day,” she said earnestly, looking into her sister-in-law’s eyes. “Now we are all free to be happy, to go on with our lives.”

  Linda stared into her face for a long moment, then her lips parted into a smile.

  “I know. You saved Giovanni’s life. He, Gerard and you are my family—the most precious thing I have. Thank you, Sonia. I know I’ve done this before, but now I want to properly and formally welcome you to the Coriola family. I love you!”

  “Oh, Geez, you’ve done it again!” Sonia sighed and a tear spilled over her fresh makeup.

  She hugged Linda again, tighter than she’d ever had, and said, “I love you too, sis. Now, take me to marry that sexy brother of yours! A huge bed and dozens of flowers
are waiting for us in Hawaii. And I plan to work him hard on our wedding night!”

  *The End*

  About the Author

  Melinda De Ross (real name Anca-Melinda Coliolu) is an international author of Romanian origin. She writes in two languages, and her books combine the elegance specific to the European style with the modern appeal of the American culture.

  She has a Law degree and has been a professional target shooter for over a decade. Her favorite genre to read and write in is Romance, and anytime she prefers to watch a classic movie instead of going to a noisy club.

  She loves to hear from her readers, and you can find her at:

  http://melindadeross.com/

  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Melinda-De-Ross/513999791983330

  https://twitter.com/melinda_de_ross

  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7163748.Melinda_De_Ross