Chapters (54)
- TITLE PAGE
- COPYRIGHT PAGE
- DEDICATION
- CONTENTS
- PROLOGUE: VENICE, 1940
- CHAPTER 1
- CHAPTER 2
- CHAPTER 3
- CHAPTER 4
- CHAPTER 5
- CHAPTER 6
- CHAPTER 7
- CHAPTER 8
- CHAPTER 9
- CHAPTER 10
- CHAPTER 11
- CHAPTER 12
- CHAPTER 13
- CHAPTER 14
- CHAPTER 15
- CHAPTER 16
- CHAPTER 17
- CHAPTER 18
- CHAPTER 19
- CHAPTER 20
- CHAPTER 21
- CHAPTER 22
- CHAPTER 23
- CHAPTER 24
- CHAPTER 25
- CHAPTER 26
- CHAPTER 27
- CHAPTER 28
- CHAPTER 29
- CHAPTER 30
- CHAPTER 31
- CHAPTER 32
- CHAPTER 33
- CHAPTER 34
- CHAPTER 35
- CHAPTER 36
- CHAPTER 37
- CHAPTER 38
- CHAPTER 39
- CHAPTER 40
- CHAPTER 41
- CHAPTER 42
- CHAPTER 43
- CHAPTER 44
- CHAPTER 45
- CHAPTER 46
- CHAPTER 47
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I spun around sharply and saw a stunningly beautiful and fashionable woman coming out of the shop. She was wearing a scarlet halter top with a pair of wide white linen trousers. Her dark hair was tied up with a red ribbon, and her mouth was a gash of scarlet lipstick. Could there be more than one Signora Da Rossi, or was this Leo’s wife, Bianca? If so, I didn’t think he had much to complain about.
I followed her with my gaze as she went down the stone steps of the bridge. At the bottom, a man stepped out of the shadows. A tall, dark man, and for a moment my heart did a little flip that it was Leo. But it wasn’t. It was another man altogether. She opened the box she was carrying and displayed what was inside. He nodded approval, then took out the contents—a heavy gold necklace—and she turned her back to him as he put it around her neck. She turned again, showing off the necklace. He nodded approval again, and she stepped forward, raising her face to be kissed. He kissed her, stroked her cheek, then let his hand slide down over one bare shoulder before she walked away in one direction and he in the other.
I tried to process what I had seen. Was this really Leo’s wife? And in that case, who was the man? Perhaps a relative, but the way he had looked at her made me think that he was more likely to be a lover. Did Leo know? Did he care? I felt hot and angry inside that she had been given the prize I so desired and clearly didn’t care about him. If she behaved so openly in a town like Venice, surely Leo must know that she was unfaithful.
I tried to think charitably. Perhaps she wasn’t actually unfaithful but just liked other men adoring her, spoiling her. Leo had said, after all, that she was a spoiled child. I walked on, but the anger wouldn’t go away. Also the realization that Venice was such a small place. If I had bumped into her on one of my first days here, surely it couldn’t be too long before I ran into him. How would I handle it? Would I have the strength and resolve to smile politely and keep on walking? I had to.