Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Chapter Eight
FRANCESCA
The Basilique du Sacre-Coeur de Montmartre is more fabulous than any photo can convey. I stand at the entry, entranced and awed by its majestic soaring beauty. What a terrible shame that we have stopped building such grand structures.
“Mademoiselle,” a female voice behind me calls.
Before I can turn around to see who it is, Vance is suddenly standing between me and the woman. His right hand is underneath his open coat. The woman jumps back with fear, and a bag full of heart-shaped locks falls from her hands and clatters down the steps. As she bends to retrieve them, I glare at Vance.
“What did you do that for?”
He doesn’t look the least bit remorseful. “No one is to come within a foot of you.”
“Says who?” I mutter furiously, knowing exactly who.
“The Boss-”
“He has no right!”
Vance’s eyes flicker and I can tell he’s displeased by my statement. Well, too bad. I hurry to the woman to help her, but she eyes me suspiciously.
“Don’t be afraid. I want one of those blue ones.” I point to the locks.
She hands me one, and I stick a wad of dollar bills into her hand, smiling at her surprised and grateful face.
“Thank you,” she says. “This is more than-”
“I know.”
Her smile widens, and then she hands me a marker. I tilt my body away from Vance and scribble “Francesca and Thomas” on the lock.
I am Don Barone. I do not share my money, I do not share my drugs, I do not share my goods and I sure as hell do not share my fucking woman.
Valentino’s words echo ominously in my head as I return the marker to the woman. I walk to the balustrade where there are thousands of other locks and add mine to the panel. I feel guilty about my spontaneous reaction to Valentino, and this simple act of love makes me feel less guilty and more connected to Thomas. I wonder what he is doing right now and when the coast will be clear for me to call him.
With the magnificent view overlooking the entire city of Paris behind me, I feel a serene calmness settle upon me as I ascend the ancient stone steps. Someone is either practicing or playing the organ for the love of it, because rich atmospheric tones flow out from the depths of the church and envelop me.
I walk into the darkened interior of the church, and in the cool, musically charged air, I cross myself and feel a thrill run through me. I am in one of the most famous churches in the world. Not even Valentino can take this ethereal experience away from me. Vance follows me around like a shadow, but I don’t mind at all. It makes me feel safe in a foreign country. I light a candle for my grandmother and to my surprise so does Vance. He does it with solemn respect.
I’m back in the Mercedes half an hour later, heading away from the church and into the heart of Paris. I call Louisa. “What are the most expensive boutiques in Paris?”
Louisa gasps, then laughs. “You’re going shopping?”
“Yup. and I’ll be getting something nice for you too. Come on then. Give me the low down. You’re the one who knows all the best places.”
“Okay, okay. Did you say the most expensive?”
“Yes, I did. I have access to a bottomless black Amex. I can shop all I want.” I meet Vance’s eyes in the rearview mirror briefly before he looks away.
Louisa squeals with excitement. “Why does your husband not have a brother?”
“Louisa!” I scold. “Focus.”
Sitting in the backseat of the Mercedes, I gaze at the watch on my wrist in amazement. Eight hundred and fifty thousand euros. For a fucking watch? Just how much is in that fucking card of his?
I close my eyes. Father, forgive me, please. Just three days married to this man, and I’m already swearing like a fishwife! And on the same day, I visit one of the most sacred Roman Catholic Churches in the world too.
As Vance drives me back to the hotel, the giddy excitement of defying Valentino recedes and I start to feel the first tingle of shame. What have I done? I’m surrounded by so many designer bags and boxes there’s not enough room for my legs so I’m hunched in the corner of the seat.
In these designer packages are dresses, shoes, handbags, sunglasses, gifts galore and any pretty thing that caught my eye. In one afternoon, I racked up damages totaling two million dollars. Deep down, I feel horribly guilty, but I’m also starting to feel scared of what Valentino will say and do. I did this in an ill-thought-out plan to get a reaction out of him, but now that it is done I am not looking forward to his reaction at all.