Page 80 of Where Wild Hearts Dance
“Secondcousin,” Allegra corrects. “She’s barely even related. So to come over here acting as though she’s the lady of the manor... Well, it’s rude. And besides, this place is as good as Trilby’s,” Allegra finishes, rolling back her shoulders and throwing a glare in the cousin’s direction.
“Trilby andCristiano’s,” I clarify.
Allegra sips her wine and resumes her glaring with a distracted “hmm.”
I turn to Bambi who gives a rundown on everyone who has and hasn’t yet introduced themselves, but I don’t register a thing because my body has heated like afurnace. The hair across the nape of my neck prickles. My skin dances like I have a fever.
When I turn my head, Benito is standing at the opposite end of the terrace, not even looking my way. He has his back turned, his focus on a conversation with Cristiano’s underboss, Augie. He looks relaxed with a hand resting in the pocket of his slacks and the other cradling a whiskey, which he sips in between nods and spoken words.
“At least he isn’t staring at you.” Bambi’s voice cuts through my reverie like an ice pick.
“What?”
“Bernadi.” She nods toward him. “Last time we were all here he was staring at you from across the table, remember?”
“Oh, um, yeah.” My head is spinning, not from the recollection but because my feelings for him now are a world away from what they were then, but I’ve no idea how to tell that to Bambi.
“And you hate him because he sent Federico’s family away,” she continues.
I swallow, searching for words, but her expression seems to retreat.
“Actually, wait…” She pops open her purse and pulls out an envelope. “This arrived at the house for you. The postmark says California. Isn’t that where Federico moved to?”
“Yes.” My voice sounds like it’s been drained of moisture as I take the envelope and turn it in my fingers.When I recognize the handwriting, my heartbeat rises up to the base of my throat.
“Do you know anyone else in that part of the country?” she presses.
“No,” I reply, breathless. I rip open the envelope. “No one.”
With one hand pressed flat against my chest, I read.
Dear Tess,
I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to reply. I read every single one of your letters, but I didn’t want to reply until I had something of substance to say. I sent them all back because I’d started to lose hope, but I have it now.
I promised you I would ruin Bernadi, and I’ve finally found a way. He had no right to threaten my father the way he did, or ruin the years of work my family put into our business. He will get what he deserves, I can assure you. Soon he’ll know how it feels to lose everything dear to him. I know what his Achilles heel is, Tess, and I’m going to ruin it.
I just have to confess to one thing, and you won’t like it. I know you hate the Marchesi’s forwhat they did to your mother, but they are still the most formidable force against the Di Santo’s. For me to end Bernadi for good, I need to work with his enemy. I hope you can forgive me for associating with them. The Di Santos are the ones who’ve kept us apart, Tess. They need to pay.
I’ll be in touch again very soon, but in the meantime, know that I love you, Tess, and I want you back in my arms where you belong. Yes, we are friends, but we are also more than that. You said so yourself in your letters. I’m coming home to get you.
Fed x
It’s Federico. After all these years and all those unanswered letters, he’s finally written back. My chest releases a heaviness I’ve been carrying around for too long. All my thoughts about him have been dark and foreboding. Either he doesn’t want me anymore, or he’s dead. Neither of those things are true and I can’t wrap my head around it.
It’s clear my earlier letters haven’t offended him, and the relief is immense, but then it’s quickly replaced by guilt, because I meant what I said: I only ever saw him as a friend.
My head throbs as confused thoughts collide behind my eyes.
I read the note several times but still the words don’t sink in. The handwriting is definitely his but matured. The tone and inflections are all him. Little things I’d forgotten but now come flying back at me. All I know is they’re weighty with promises I no longer want him to keep.
I look up and feel reassured that Benito’s back is still turned. I didn’t bring a purse with me so I slide the folded note beneath the collar of my dress and into my bra, and plan to read it later when I’m alone. Maybe I can write him back, somehow explain my change of heart. It doesn’t sound like he knows who Trilby is engaged to or that I’m practically a part of the Di Santo’s already.
I don’t have the capacity to think about it now. Not when another relative of Cristiano’s is making a beeline in our direction. And not when I glance away briefly, only to be met by a renewed presence and a stare that is loaded, heated and so unbearably electric it takes my breath away.
I politely shake the hands of yet another Di Santo cousin, who seems perfectly nice and welcoming, before excusing myself to get a drink. My throat is parched despite the gallons of water I drink every day.
Waiting in line, my nape tingles as a hot breath lowers onto it. “There’s a wine cellar just inside the entrance. Get your sweet ass down the steps right now.” Then the heat vanishes, leaving only a shiver ofanticipation in its wake. Then the taste of panic glides across my tongue. I didn’t even know this placehada wine cellar.
