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Giovanni, My Love Page 14
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Realizing the truth of his brother’s words, Marco lifted his index finger and lowered the weapon, but only slightly. His hands remained tingling and ready to react at a second’s notice. It was not his wish to end his twin’s life; nevertheless, to save Marissa, he would do so without hesitation. The other man – once a protector of justice, now a deranged criminal – had made that decision for him.
“Let her breathe.” Marco spoke the words flatly, as though speaking to a stranger, not family.
Mauricio opened his palm slightly and Marissa instantly sucked in a huge gulp of oxygen.
“See, Marco, I can still be a good guy,” his brother said with a mutant grin.
“Perché, Mauricio?” Marco’s voice softened. A tiny wave of sympathy and brotherly love touched his spirit. “Why have you done all these horrible things? What has happened to you, mio fratello?”
“You ask this question to the man you left for dead?” Mauricio seemed deeply offended at Marco’s plea. “To the brother you abandoned to a cold ditch?”
As Mauricio spoke the memories into existence, sorrow and regret stabbed at Marco’s heart.
“I saw you die…the bullets flew from all directions. I had no choice. If I had not left, the entire field team would have been buried in nameless graves…including Katerina. How could you kill the woman who clawed to return and retrieve your body, even as gun smoke clogged the air?”
“Because I did die that day,” the other man snapped. He turned the gun away from Marissa and pointed it at Marco’s chest. “My own brother left me gunned down in the street, so there was no reason for me to go on living as who I was. They tortured me for weeks, Marco…Weeks!” Mauricio’s grip on reality slipped as his mind appeared to travel back to the dismal torment he suffered by the militant rebels’ army. “During the first few days, I kept expecting you to return and shoot them all down. By the next week, I hated you like no other living person on this earth. When the national soldiers invaded the camp and freed all the hostages, I lied about who I was. I wanted no part of the world that had forgotten me and left me to bleed out all alone. Now, I live for me only. Katerina was a greedy wench.” Mauricio spit the words out with bitter distaste for the memory of his lost love. “ She tried to keep what was mine, and she paid the price for her second treachery. If she loved me so much, she would have clawed your skin harder and ran back to drag me out of the dirt. It was no secret that she loved you, too, Marcello. We are the same in many ways. She slept in my bed, but she also desired to have you there many times. She saw her opportunity to finally run off with you and my money, and she took it. Katerina is exactly where she deserves to be.”
“You took her life, Mauricio…You, the man she betrayed her own country to obediently march behind once again. She loved you with such blind obsession that she followed you to her grave. Doesn’t that count for anything in your memory of her?”
“Ahhh!” The killer screamed. His cry raked Marco’s ears. The deep bellow was like the howl of a wounded and dying animal. Mauricio fired off four rapid shots beside Marco’s head. The agent heard the crunch of each slug digging faster than a fiery rocket into the wall behind him. “Silenzio! Shut up and give me my diamonds!” He squeezed Marissa’s throat again then threatened to burn her with the hot tip of the smoking gun. “Give them to me now or I’ll take her from you. Then you will mourn and grieve with me, as brothers should.”
“No!” Marco’s arms stiffened. He aimed high. Both of his biceps were clenched rock hard and waiting to flex. Tense seconds dashed by. One false move and Marissa would be no more. Marco had to calm himself and talk his way through this standoff. He huffed out a wet breath, trying to steady his nerves. “There are no diamonds,” he confessed to the madman.
Intense awe and disbelief flamed across Mauricio’s face.
“You lie! I saw you enter with the attaché. The purse that Katerina left in the jewelry store was filled with fakes. You must still have the real gems…and I want them…NOW!”
“Do you know what the stones were going to be used to buy, fratello?” Marco knew that trying to reason with a criminally insane man would be nearly impossible. All the same, and in spite of everything that had already transpired, this was his twin brother. He had to make an effort to try to pull Mauricio back toward the light of sanity, to help him understand what his actions and what the sale of the jewels would have meant for mankind. “Nuclear weapons…dirty bombs that would have been used to inflict havoc and destruction around the world.”
“I do not caaarreeee!” Mauricio screeched out his delirious reply. “I deserve them…after all I have been through…they is my reward! I will not let you take everything from me. My woman is dead, I will not allow you to have my fortune too!” An eerie calm descended over Mauricio. His flustered grimace straightened and his azure eyes turned frosty white. “Give them to me now. You have ten seconds or I will pull the trigger. Ten…nine…eight…”
Chapter Sixteen
Endgame
Marissa’s eyes flickered open and she sucked in a gulp of air. Everything was occurring in a rush of motion. She barely had time to make sense of all the chaos flowing all around her. From what she could understand, the man holding her hostage was Marco’s brother. He was the same brother who had supposedly died in a gunfight over a year ago. He was also Katerina’s killer, and was more than willing to do the same to Marissa if he was not given the diamonds he was crying for.
As Marco and the man who had attacked her twice – the man who had the same face as her lover – argued relentless in both English and Italian, Marissa tried to piece her strength together. Dizziness from lack of oxygen threatened to consume her into a dark oblivion. She had to figure out how to help save her life from the pinch of death, which was only a hair trigger or a crushing palm away.
“Seven…six…” The villain’s countdown continued on a rapid descent.
“I am telling you the truth!” Marco’s yell was filled with grave desperation. “The Giovanni Diamonds are not here! They were never here. The jewels never left Italy.”
A solemn silence hung around the tense trio. In the hushed moment, while Mauricio remained somewhat distracted, Marissa contemplated two possible escape routes…Should she take a vicious bite at the killer’s brutal hand? Or attempt to plunge her elbow into his chest, forcing him to release her? When neither option seemed like the best move, the woman continued to plot as Marco continued his story. While he talked, Marcello never lowered his weapon, and Marissa hoped his aim was better than that of the killer. The edgy woman knew, down to the marrow in her bones, that the villain had no intentions of allowing her to leave this room alive.
“The agency’s plan was to come to the States, seek contacts here, and try to ransom off the jewels. We were certain that the highest bidder would lead us back to the weapons’ dealers we were in search of. The diamonds were only a decoy to gain access to the anonymous buyers, the dealers, and any other intermediate parties between the two groups. You were once one of our best agents…You know our mission standards…The GEA would never take the risk of allowing the real jewels to end up in the wrong hands. If that every happened, the nukes they were going to purchase might actually be delivered to their destination. To fool the criminals, we made clones that would have passed any chemical analysis.”
“You are wrong,” Mauricio cut Marco’s speech. “Julius and his partners tested the jewels, they knew they were fakes.”
“That is because Katerina did not hand over the decoys I brought to the US. She never knew about the cloned diamonds. After we assumed that you had died, her mental state declined. I knew she could not be trusted with sensitive and highly classified information any longer. After Katerina’s death, I had Schaeffer and Julius remove my attaché from the hotel’s vault. Our analysis showed that the diamonds in the case were the copies I brought with me. The homing devices embedded inside of them never switched on.” Marco stepped forward. He continued to try to reason with the insane man. “Mau
ricio, my brother, you must believe me…I never told her to make the drop in the hotel’s galleria jewelry store. That was part of her own plan. I am not sure of what she was plotting or how she was able to bring her own forged gems into the country. Perhaps Katerina thought she had figured out a way to keep the money from the sale of her fakes and how to steal the real diamonds from me later.” The look of a recent memory flashed across Marco’s eyes. “Katerina’s final words to me were…We can live like royalty…all of us. Perhaps she thought her plan would somehow unite us all as one happy family again…I really do not know, fratello.” Marco lowered his voice. “I do know this…you are wrong, Mauricio. You were the only man Katerina ever loved. She would have done anything to please you.”
The villain had murdered the one woman who had loved him with a tainted and fatal devotion, even until her final breath. There would be no jewels to soothe his pain and no money to cover his bloody trail. Another ailing howl crawled from Mauricio’s throat. He threw up his arms in wrenching agony over his horrible mistake.
When the killer lifted his gun from Marissa’s head and pulled his fist from her throat, the bold woman saw her chance for freedom. As soon as Mauricio was emotionally wounded, his hostage seized on the distraction and saved herself from the brink of death’s door. Marissa thrust the top of her head upward and struck the underside of his chin with a vicious blow. Gurgling noises mixed with a shrill crunch filled her ears as Mauricio’s teeth shattered and scarlet spittle dripped from his mouth. Once she was completely free from his grip, Marissa wasted no time in dropping to the floor. Crawling on her hands and knees, the woman made a mad dash away from the injured villain and toward the farthest side of the hostile room. When she reached the other end of the suite, Marissa crouched against the wall in a tight ball.
Four gunshots shredded the air. One hot projectile embedded itself in Mauricio’s trigger hand while another burned deep into his left wrist. The second pair of bullets twisted painfully through the center of his kneecaps. As twirling whiffs of smoky tendrils floated from the tip of Marco’s gun, his brother – the merciless villain – was instantly crippled. A wailing moan clawed its way from deep within Mauricio’s chest, while his heavy body dropped to the floor in a loud thump. Whether the cry was from the scorching bullet wounds or from agony and remorse for the treacherous deeds he had committed, Marissa would never know.
Strong arms, with rigid muscles that felt tense and painfully swollen, quickly wrapped themselves around Marissa and lifted her aching body from the floor. When Marco cradled her to his chest, relief swept over the shaken woman. Marco Rossi pressed his hot mouth to her blistering ear and swore the same solemn promise again and again, kissing his rescued lover’s moist brow with each renewal of the oath.
“Ti amo, Marissa…ti amo…I love you…I will never let you go….No one will ever hurt you again…I swear.”
Marissa memorized ever word Marcello cried out to her. Her soul swam in the electrifying emotions he poured out. The thumping heartbeat of her true love, echoing in her ear, confirmed the eternal depths of his promises. With the last ounce of strength remaining in her weak arms, Marissa Stiles clung to her hero – breathing in his pure devotion and weeping out her love.
AFTERWARD
~G~
Forever
Epilogue
Tuscany, Italy
“Sorridere,” Marco said from behind the digital lens. “Smile for the camera, Marissa.”
In response, the beautiful woman he was admiring from a few feet away beamed a gorgeous smile at him. Her arms were resting against that famous leaning tower in the middle of Pisa, and Marissa pretended to keep the building from toppling over onto the crowded plaza below.
After Marcello snapped the keepsake photo, the young couple continued their slow stroll through the vibrant and culturally rich Italian district. The day after the terrifying finale of Mauricio’s crime spree, Marcello and his lady escaped to a well-deserved vacation far away from the demands of big city life or the strain of global policing. It was never Marcello’s goal to wound his brother so horribly. Nevertheless, the agent did not regret his decision. Mauricio’s insanity had driven him beyond redemption and, like a rabid animal, the killer would have never willingly ceased his relentless blood thirst. Marcello’s relief at knowing his demented sibling was finally jailed behind the thick walls of a maximum security institution for the criminally insane was only rivaled by the unanswered questions still taunting the agent’s sharp mind. Although one very small accomplice to the international smuggling and terrorism ring had been identified, Julius Smith was merely an underling. Who were the nameless bosses who had supplied him with the hefty financial support to place his orders? There was also the uncertainty of the level of involvement – if any – of Dennis Schaeffer. Another trace of his phone records indicated he had dialed his wife’s phone number on the day of Marcello and Katerina’s arrival to the hotel. However, further research showed his wife had been making a separate call from their home number, not her mobile phone, to her mother at the exact same time. So, who had Schaeffer actually been speaking with during that conversation? His bank accounts showed several odd transactions – fast movement of large funds over the course of a few days before the incidents at La Grande Roi – but nothing that would cause immediate suspicion or tie him to the original villains that Marcello and his agency had been urgently trying to hunt down. For now, at least, the inquisitive man would have to put his racing suspicions to the rear of his mind.
Marissa had regained her sense of peace and security. Her happiness had always been Marcello’s primary concern. As long as his lady was safe and cared for, Marco felt his sense of duty was satisfied. On the other side of the world, the loving duo walked hand-in-hand through the warm Mediterranean sunshine. Marco pointed to various highlights during their stroll, and explained portions of the province’s intriguing artistic history.
“Let’s sit here for a moment, sweetheart,” Marco said.
He led Marissa to a nearby stone staircase, which sat in front of a magnificent marble fountain that was dancing with crisp sprays of cool iceberg blue water. Once they were seated, Marcello began to fumble with his camera. While he tinkered with the latch of the tiny machine, Marissa’s cell phone chirped. The glowing woman retrieved the phone then smiled curiously at the message she was reading.
“What is so amusing, amore?” Marco’s eyes remained glued on the digital toy while he asked his love the question.
“It’s Nichole.” Marissa giggled as she spoke.
“Oh, yes? How is our mother-to-be?”
“Hm…she’s still my same darling friend,” Marissa laughed again as she continued to scroll through the message, “who just sent me a text in all caps to remind me that I had not sent her a vacation photo from today or yesterday.”
“I cannot seem to figure this thing out,” Marco mumbled. He stared intensely at the ultra modern machine. “Il mio amore, perhaps you might be able to fix this problem,” he said then handed the camera to Marissa.
“Sure…let me see,” she said while accepting the item. The woman glanced over the digital camera. She surveyed each side until she spotted the problem. “There’s something stuck in the battery panel.” When Marissa opened the latch, her raspberry lips began an uncontrollable tremble. The camera dropped to the ground as Marissa’s shaking hands flew to her mouth. Two glistening tears streaked from each of her tinted eyes. “Marco,” she said in a breathless whisper.
“Ti amo, Marissa…per sempre…forever,” the gallant man said in a hushed voice. Marcello retrieved the sparkling diamond ring from inside of the camera’s battery panel then slid onto one knee. When he was kneeling before Marissa, Marcello raised the token of his eternal love toward the weeping woman. “I know it is not Giovanni, my love…but I hope it is enough to please you.” A nervous smile dashed across his handsome face. “Marissa Stiles…Mi vuoi sposare?…Will you do me the incredible honor of becoming my wife?”
If Ma
rissa answered with an actual yes, Marco never heard the word spoken. He had become tangled in his woman’s rushing embrace and swept away by the soft kisses she rained over his lips and face. From somewhere close by, onlookers clapped and whistled their approval of the new union. Inside Marcello Rossi’s heart, endless hope and joy bloomed. Providence had finally blessed him with the love and devotion of the woman who had captured his heart at first sight.
♥ The End ♥
So where do we go from here? Great Question!
The possibilities are limitless…I have dozens of stories floating around in my head. However, I can only type out a few at a time. My goal is to release a couple more titles before the beginning of the summer, but we’ll see how that goes…My Inspiration is strong but can never be rushed, and I honestly wouldn’t want it to be…Until then, Dear Reader, I truly hope you enjoyed this tale of suspense and romance. Here’s my question for you…Did you catch on to one of the background scenes? Perhaps it might be a clue for what I’ll be rolling out with next…Blessings and love to you all, always…LL ♥
PS –
As always, I love hearing from you…send me a line or two…I definitely like reading your comments… [email protected]