"Right," I say, shrugging off my gloom.
I turn and march up to the top of the steps. Tourists scatter as I sweep past with my well-muscled entourage in my wake. When I reach the top, I turn to admire the view back over the piazza and along the Via Condotti. It's spectacular.
I love Rome, I decide. The people, the food and the history are fantastic. I can't wait for Gabriele to show me more of it. He said he would and I intend to hold him to it.
NINE
Katya
Something isn’tright with Gabriele. He seems preoccupied. I didn't expect gushing praise when I came downstairs to meet him in the hallway because that's not the type of man he is.
I have to admit, however, to being hurt when he barely acknowledged the effort I'd made, simply looking me up and down and nodding his approval.
I spent hours getting ready for this gala. Maria sent one of her staff, a capable woman called Roberta, to help me with my hair and makeup. She apologized profusely for her lack of skills and then proceeded to create the most elegant French twist I've ever seen. I can't fault my makeup either. This woman has worked miracles. She's wasted as a cleaner.
Gabriele hasn't spoken a word since he opened the car door and told me to get in. The entire way across Rome he's been tense.
Worrying about whether I've displeased him in some way has sucked all the joy out of my first glimpse of the floodlit Colosseum.
The silence isn't the sort that's easy to break. An attempt at humor or an observation about the weather would fall flat right now. I can't think of a damned question I want to ask him either.
So I let the quiet stretch into something uncomfortable.
As we pull up outside the venue, Gabriele's jaw tightens. His hands ball into fists on his lap. His lips move as he murmurs something I can't hear. It's an affirmation, I realize as he repeats it over and over again.
Eduardo gets out of the car and opens Gabriele's door. For a moment, my husband doesn't move. I'm starting to think he hasn't realized we're here. Then he drags in a long, slow breath and releases it. Finally, he gets out of the car.
He turns to offer his hand as I slide across the seat. I place my fingers on his palm and he helps me out onto the sidewalk. We don't pause for photographs, although several voices call Gabriele's name and, to my surprise, mine.
I guess the marriage of such a prominent member of Roman society wasn't going to stay secret for long.
As we walk into the venue, I smile. This place is stunning. A palazzo on the outskirts of the city, it's steeped in history and grandeur that predates anything St. Petersburg has to offer.
The entrance hall is magnificent. High ceilings are supported by stone columns. My heels clack on the stone floor as we make our way across it.
There are people milling about everywhere, dressed in their finery. The blue dress was the right choice for tonight. It clings to my body to show off my barely-there curves and plunges at the back so it's sexy but still appropriate for this crowd.
I see a lot of older ladies in black sequined dresses and that tells me all I need to know.
Gabriele and I cut through the crowd, people parting for us. Some whisper behind their hands as we pass. They'd better be admiring my ass and not commenting on Gabriele's scars.
I almost giggle as that thought crosses my mind but I hold myself together. Tonight is important to my husband, otherwise I doubt we'd have come.
As we walk into the dining hall, a lavishly decorated room with hundreds of floral bouquets, I glance up at the ceiling. My mouth falls open. It's covered with the most beautiful paintings. I'm not a fan of religious art but some of these allegorical pieces are glorious.
As a short, fat man with a bald head hurries toward us, Gabriele's grip on my hand tightens.
"Signore Volante, how good of you to come." He holds his hand out to Gabriele but my husband doesn't shake it.
"Alberto," he says gruffly.
The man's cheeks redden but as he pulls his hand away I reach out to grab it.
"So nice to meet you. I'm Ekaterina Volante."
"A pleasure. I'm the Chair of the St. Pietro Benevolent Fund. Your donation this year is much appreciated."
I release his hand and link my fingers with Gabriele's once more.
