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We’ve kept them secret from her, like she’s kept hers secret from us. It’s the only time Sefi has gone out without us. Mamma took her to a store near the Bridge of Sighs, but I made sure Giorgio ferried them there and back. Alessio even assigned one of his men to shadow them and keep them safe. It was a one-off, something he can’t do too often, unfortunately, due to limited police resources.
Sefi and I chat for the rest of the ride home. She already knows that Carnival is a pre-Easter festival celebrated throughout Italy. The Venetian revelries originated in the twelfth century and became famous in the eighteenth for encouraging pleasure-seeking. When Venice came under Austrian rule, the carnival was outlawed, subsequently only reappearing at private events. The Italian government brought it back in 1979 as the centerpiece of its efforts to highlight the culture of the city. Nowadays, the festivities attract more than three million visitors from all over the world.
“The word carnevale actually means ‘meat is okay’,” I tell her. “People feasted on it as they couldn’t eat meat during Lent.”
“I just love the masks,” she sighs. “And seeing all the costumes. So fun…”
I lift her hand and kiss her wrist. “You are really going to love tonight.”Chapter Twenty-TwoSefiI get dressed for the ball in the guest room. This is where I keep my clothes… have done ever since I moved my entire wardrobe over from the apartment in Zattere. The signora has been able to rent the place out to someone else and give me a refund, which has helped sweeten the pill of being under the constant supervision of my filthy Italians. The pill hasn’t been too bitter, happily… they’ve been so sweet to me. Even Alessio has softened his brittle shell and let me see the caring man underneath. I can’t wait for Camila to meet them and see for herself how protective they are of me.
I release a soft sigh as I put on my make-up. My situation would be perfect if it could be permanent, and if there wasn’t the threat of the Mafia. But I’m kidding myself. There’s been no mention of love from my filthies, as I like to think of them, and, in any case, my life is in America not Italy.
I roll my shoulders back and reach for my gorgeous eighteen century Venetian noblewoman’s gown, hanging by the mirror. I love the low-cut V-shaped bodice made of blood red silk, with boning which pushes up my breasts, and the large embroidered black lace collar at the back. The satin ivory-colored voluminous skirt embellished with embroidery and black tulle applications is beyond beautiful. One concession to the twenty-first century is a zipper, which enables me to dress myself… unlike the aristocratic woman of the past who would have needed a maid’s help. I slip the costume over my head and zip myself up, then step into a pair of black high heels.
I clutch my sequined evening purse and twirl in front of the mirror, studying my reflection. I’ve left my hair down. Authenticity would have required a wig, but I drew the line at that. Adrenaline rushes through me. I’m looking forward to the sumptuous banquet and to dancing until dawn. It’s Tuesday tomorrow, my day off, and I’ll have a sleep in. This is one Venetian escapade that will equal anything Truman Capote experienced and I will look with wonder at everything, just like he did, and return to the States with awesome memories.
Alessio got back from work just in time to get changed and he’s waiting for me with Marco in the living room. They jump to their feet as I approach.
“Wow! Sei cosi bella.” Marco stands back in admiration.
Alessio takes my hand and bows over it, brushing his lips to my wrist. “Bellissima,” he says.
I rake my eyes over them— their tight breeches emphasizing their powerful thighs, their stockinged calves and their brocaded vests— and I’m literally speechless. I swallow, hard.
“Andiamo. Let’s go, guys.” Marco strides across the room to the hallway to fetch my hooded, black velvet cape. “We can put our masks on once we’ve seen my parents.”
We ride the elevator down to the first floor. Viviana and Francesco are waiting for us to show off our finery, and they express their admiration… Viviana in a rush of words and Francesco by his lop-sided smile and twinkling eyes.
“You will have a wonderful time,” Viviana murmurs in my ear. “I used to love the masquerade balls...”
I catch the wistful expression on her face and feel sad she isn’t going with us. But I know she wouldn’t leave Francesco on his own. She and I have become close the past several weeks. Marco has told her the reason why I’m rooming with him and Alessio… and Viviana has accepted the explanation. Or, at least, she hasn’t pressed me for further details. Alessio hasn’t divulged much to me about the anti-mafia operation he’s working on, so I wouldn’t have been able to tell her anything anyhow. All that I know is, I’ve come to trust him and to trust that, barring returning to the States, I’m as safe as I can be staying here with him and Marco.
