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“I know, he tried to stop Catherine from seeing Max, ended up killing Max.”
“It was more complicated than that. Max was one nasty motherfucker. Violent, kicked the shit out of a lot of women in his time. Catherine tried to keep the bruises hidden but Alessandro spotted them.
“He went ballistic but Max was ready. Had four men with him but Alessandro killed them all. Max taunted him. Told him she deserved the slaps for refusing to put out. Confessed to raping her more than once. Told him he couldn’t do anything because of the truce.
“Alessandro lost it then, beat him to death. Fucker had it coming a long time. Alessandro did the world a favor even if he did piss off Garibaldi.”
Matteo picks up the thread of the story, “Angelo couldn’t see past his brother’s faults, blamed our family for everything. Said Catherine was a prick tease. Swore he’d get revenge. Said that whenever Alessandro got married, he’d kill his bride. That’s why he had to leave you here, to keep you safe.”
I listen, the parallels between the tapestry’s ancient feud and our own modern vendetta striking me. Caught in a cycle of vengeance and pain, just like the figures woven into the tapestry.
Lucas meets my gaze, a spark of respect in his eyes. “Alessandro wants to end it, for good. Once Garibaldi’s dead, it’s over. Up to now he was afraid of sparking a war that would burn the city but now you’re threatened, he doesn’t give a shit. The world could burn as far as he’s concerned, as long as you’re safe.”
I think about what my father told me. Alessandro said he married me to keep me safe. From what these two are saying, being his bride puts me in more danger. What is the truth?
The weight of their story, of my role in this ongoing saga, settles on my shoulders. But with it comes a sense of purpose, a determination to be more than a figure caught in the weave of someone else’s battle. Like the characters in the tapestry, I have my own role to play, a chance to influence the outcome.
Impulsively, I pull out my phone and dial Alessandro’s number again, craving the sound of his voice. The line rings, and for a moment, I’m afraid he won’t answer. But then he does, and the relief is palpable.
“Alessandro,” I begin, my voice trembling slightly with a mix of excitement and nerves. “I’m at the Bayeux Tapestry. It’s more incredible than I imagined.”
There’s a pause on the other end, and when he speaks, his voice is distant, a cold shadow of the warmth I’d hoped for. “Are you in danger? Where are Matteo and Lucas?”
I push on, desperate for a connection, for any sign that he’s still the man I fell in love with. “I’m fine. It’s just, I wish you could see it with me. There’s so much history here, so much life. It makes me miss you even more.”
Again, there’s a pause, a hesitance that’s unlike him. “I’m busy right now. We’ll talk later.” His tone is dismissive, the finality in his voice a stark contrast to the openness we’ve always shared.
“Why? What are you doing?”
“In a meeting.”
“Is everything okay?” I ask, a knot of worry forming in my stomach. “You sound different.”
“I said I’m busy,” he snaps, the sharpness of his tone cutting through me. “I’ll call you back when I can.”
And just like that, the line goes dead. I stand there, phone in hand, the sounds of the museum fading into a distant hum. The weight of his indifference, so at odds with the love and passion that have defined our relationship, settles over me like a shroud.
Is this what my life has become? A series of disconnected moments, waiting for scraps of affection from a man who may not truly care for me? The doubt, a seed planted by my father’s warnings, begins to sprout, fed by Alessandro’s cold dismissal.
I can’t shake the heaviness in my heart, the swirling maelstrom of doubt and fear that threatens to consume me. In a moment of desperation, I dial Emma, needing to hear a voice that isn’t shrouded in the complexities of my current life.
“Hey, Jess, what’s up?” Emma’s voice is a balm, instantly grounding me.
I take a deep breath, the words tumbling out. “I’m at the tapestry.”
“Oh, wow. You always wanted to see that. Is it as cool as it looks online?”
“Amazing but listen. I called Alessandro just now. He was so cold, so distant. I don’t know what to think anymore.” I move away from the guards, lowering my voice. “You know when Dad called? He said that Alessandro’s using me to get to him.”
“You believe him?”
“I don’t know. He said he had intel that could put Alessandro behind bars for life. Said my husband’s only using me to get to him.”
Emma’s sigh is heavy with empathy. “That’s bullshit. Jess. Alessandro, he loves you. I could tell by how he looked at you in the church. Don’t let one cold conversation cloud everything. Don’t listen to your father. Listen to your heart.”
Her encouragement warms me, offering a flicker of hope in the darkness. “Thanks, Emma. I needed to hear that.”
“You should call him though, tell him your father spoke to you.”
