Page 50 of Twisted Obsession

‘Okay,’ I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

Dante changed his hold on me, lifting both hands to cup my face. ‘Everything will work out.’

I nodded enthusiastically before he chastely brushed his lips against mine to seal our commitment to each other. He then produced a set of keys from his pocket and pressed a button on a small device which omitted a shrill sound. Suddenly, the media wall sprang to life and doors slid open to reveal a huge screen.

‘Accept the call.’

An older version of Dante appeared instantaneously on the screen.

‘Dante.’

‘Uncle,’ Dante replied in respect. ‘This is…’ he started before being interrupted.

‘Signorina De Luca, I presume. Allow me to introduce myself… I am Graham Thomas.’

I already knew about the Thomas’s in England. Dante’s mama was, I believed, Graham’s sister, and her two brothers ran a very successful business here in London. Although, quite what that business involved I had no idea, but then I also had no concrete proof of exactly what my family did, apart from the export of olive oil.

‘Hello,’ I replied hesitantly, as I tried hard to discern if I was speaking to a friend or foe.

‘Before we start this conversation—I understand you’re in London, but I don’t want to know where you are.’ He held up the palm of his hand. ‘So, don’t tell me… even the powers in Calabria know it would take me a while to find your exact location.’

Still holding me closely, I saw as Dante nodded back his answer and heard the exhale that left him as he prepared himself for what was coming next.

‘I’ve just received a rather irate phone call from Don De Luca.’

‘Don De Luca… oh no!’ A sick feeling threatened to engulf me. Suddenly, I was lost in a sea of pain. It was one I knew was coming, but couldn’t have prepared myself for even if I’d have tried. Pressure against my legs indicated that a chair was being gently pushed against the back of my knees offering me a place to sit. Shaking on the ridiculous heels I’d worn, I gratefully accepted and sat down quickly, almost falling into the padded seat of the chair. ‘Does this mean he’s gone? Has my nonno passed?’

Mary handed me a bottle of water, and as I looked up to thank her, she gesticulated that I should take a sip. The cool liquid hit my throat and it was all I could do to stop throwingit back up. I struggled to swallow the minute amount of liquid down, as my throat tightened with my grief.

Obviously aware of my inner struggle, Dante placed his hand to my shoulder and gently squeezed it to let me know he was with me, and Graham kindly waited before he replied.

‘I’m sorry to say he has, Giovanna. Please accept my family’s deepest condolences. Salvatore said it was very peaceful.’

‘I’m sorry, Giovanna,’ Dante whispered.

‘Then I’m truly alone.’ My thoughts escaped me.

‘Not alone, amore mio. I’m here now and remember, I’ll always catch you when you fall.’ My last conversation with my nonno entered my head, and I knew with absolutely certainty that Dante was the man he’d been expecting to find me. Dante’s hand squeezed my shoulder again, as I understood it had been him who had recognised my need for the chair I was now sitting on. As I raised my hand to find his, he grabbed it and bent his frame to take it to his lips. He placed a soft, lingering kiss to my cold flesh and looked into my eyes, wordlessly saying everything I needed to know, and in that gesture my heart felt a little lighter.

‘I think you’d better start talking, Dante.’ My gaze moved and went again to his Uncle Graham, who was sitting behind his desk and staring at us both with the same brilliant blue eyes his nephew and niece had inherited.

‘Do you still have contacts at Lambeth Palace, Uncle?’

‘You know I do,’ Graham replied, nodding.

‘Good, because Giovanna and I are going to need a special licence—she has agreed to be my wife.’

For a second, Graham narrowed his eyes as he looked at us both while he mulled over what Dante had imparted, and then he nodded.

‘Giovanna, is what my nephew says correct?’

‘Yes, I want to be his wife.’

‘That is your decision? You have not been coerced into making that decision?’

‘It is my decision and entirely of my own free will,’ I answered.

‘Aunt Mary witnessed my proposal, Uncle.’

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