Dante's Dilemma (a Dante Legacy Novella) (5 page)

“I may have something that will help with that.” Rom drew the letter from his pocket, handing it to his grandfather. “I’ve been offered a job as a jewelry designer.”

Nonno
took the letter and tilted it into the moonlight, studying it for a long moment. His brows drew together. “This company is not affiliated with the Dantes.”

“No. It’s in America. In San Francisco.”

“California?” He gazed at Rom in bewilderment. “Why would you take this job when our Dante relatives have welcomed you as one of their own? Trained you to be a great artisan?”

It was hard to tell his grandfather the truth. But he had to make
Nonno
understand. Rom reached into his other pocket and removed the box containing the ring he’d crafted for Tito. “Tell me what you think of this.”

Nonno
opened the box, his breath catching in appreciation.
“Com’è bello.
You designed this? Created this? It is magnificent.”

Rom nodded. “It’s called
L’amore Vero
.” He paused, then added. “I am to tell everyone it was made by Donato.”

“What’s this? That fool make a ring of this quality? He couldn’t tell a diamond from a lump of coal.”

“No, but at least he’s not a bastard. People will trust him. Buy from him. Brag that they’ve hired him. But someone with my background…”

His grandfather closed his eyes. “I’d hoped you would escape the tragedy of your birth. That my cousins would accept you.”

“They’ve accepted me. They’re very kind to me.” Well, maybe not Donato, but that had more to do with jealousy than anything else. “But I will never become what God intends. Not if I remain the Dantes’ secret.” He tapped the letter. “In California, no one will know of my stain. If I have anything to say about it, no one will ever know I am a bastard. I can design jewelry without hiding who I am. Someday I will open my own shop. Maybe your cousins will come to accept me then.”

“It could happen,”
Nonno
said with forced cheer.

“You could travel to America with me.”

Nonno
shook his head. “My place is with your mamma. Besides, I will not leave my Nicia. When my time comes, I wish to rest beside her.” He patted Rom’s knee. “You won’t be alone,
nipote
. You will take your Inferno bride with you to California. Tell me about her. Where did you meet? Who is her family?”

It was a natural question, though one he’d hoped to avoid. “It’s… complicated.”

Nonno’s
gaze sharpened. “There can only be one of two explanations for this complication. Either she belongs to another. Or you have no idea who she is or where she lives.”

“She belongs to another.”

Nonno’s
dark brows drew together. “She is married?”

“Engaged.”

“Ah.” His grandfather grimaced. “This is not good. But at least there is time to prevent the marriage from taking place, no?”

“You don’t understand. It’s Tito’s bride.”

Nonno
closed his eyes and released a gusty sigh. “Unfortunate.”

“You know how it is in Santa Lucia. An engagement is as much of a commitment as an actual marriage.”

“But it is not an actual marriage. Not yet.”

“He’s my friend,
Nonno
. For many years he was my
best
friend. He accepted me when most would not.”

“It does not matter, Romero,” his grandfather argued. “She is not meant for him. In time, he will come to realize this. Better he discovers it before the vows are said, then afterward, would you not agree?”

“Julietta is also… unwilling.”

“But she felt the connection?”

Rom nodded. “I think it frightened her.”

“Of course. It would frighten any proper young woman to feel such a powerful desire for a man she’s never met before. A man who is not her intended.”
Nonno
grinned. “Not that it makes any difference.
La Julietta
can no more resist The Inferno than a nightingale can resist singing.”

“You make it sound so simple. But Tito’s family is rich and powerful. They will not simply hand over his bride because I ask. Or even because of The Inferno. Nor will Julietta’s family be happy that the bastard of Santa Lucia wishes to marry their daughter. They will cause trouble for us. Even my own family will be opposed to the match.”

Nonno
brushed the comment aside with a wave of his hand. “The Dantes are rich and powerful, as well. We can handle whatever trouble comes our way.”

“I don’t know.” Rom frowned in concern. “Taking Tito’s bride… It’s dishonorable.”

“It is not dishonorable to right a wrong. If this young woman has feelings for you, then marrying Tito would be wrong.”

Rom shot to his feet and paced beneath the moonlight, his steps ringing against the flagstone pathway. “We’ve only just met. How can we trust what we’re feeling?” Doubts filled him. “What if we’re mistaken?”

“The Inferno is never wrong,”
Nonno
said simply. “Never.”

“Then what must I do?” He turned to face his grandfather. “How do I convince Julietta to break her vow and dishonor her family? She and Tito wed in a week.”

“It’s very simple.”
Nonno
grinned. “You steal her away.”

“Caio
, Rom!
Come va?”

The call came from the far side of the wall bordering the Ranieri home. Rom glanced up from the herb bed he was weeding, instantly recognizing Tito’s voice. His grandfather did, as well, and gave him tacit permission to join his friend with an understanding nod. Rom brushed off his trousers and rinsed his hands beneath the cool water of the garden pump, before exiting through a nearby gate. One look at his boyhood friend and, despite his betrayal, he couldn’t help smiling.

“I’m doing well enough, Tito. How are you, old friend?”

“Old.” He laughed and slung an arm around Rom’s neck, yanking him in for a quick hug and a slap on the back. “And soon to be both older and married, God help me.”

“Unbelievable. How did such a thing happen?”

“Caffè
first, no? There is a new shop in Santa Lucia that serves a wonderful espresso.
Caffè dell’Amore
it’s called. It will give us a chance to catch up.”

“Sounds perfect. Let me grab your engagement ring, and I’ll be right with you.”

The walk into town gave them the opportunity to exchange the latest gossip and news, though Rom noticed his friend pointedly avoided all mention of Julietta. A short time later, they found the shop just off the piazza and ordered drinks, along with a plate of
bomboloni
. They decided to eat outside at a small café table where they could enjoy the early morning sunshine. Tito spent the next half hour greeting the steady stream of locals who passed by, all the while devouring both portions of the donuts they’d purchased.

Eventually, he noticed Rom’s amusement and grinned. “All this talking and eating, shades of my
babbo,
no? Soon I will be as fat as he is.”

Rom went with diplomacy and ignored the latter part of his friend’s statement. “One day you’ll step into your father’s shoes. It’s important to develop your own contacts with the people of Santa Lucia.”

Tito added a few more sugar cubes to his coffee. “I won’t be stepping into my father’s shoes if I become a vintner. I’ll be far too busy driving your stepfather, Luigi, out of business.” He lifted a dark eyebrow, his eyes gleaming with mischievous laughter. “You will not mind, will you?”

Rom shrugged. “There’s enough business for everyone.” He hesitated, then decided to push the topic of most interest to him. “I understand the vineyard belongs to the family of your bride-to-be.”

“Julietta Bianchi, yes. Her poor
babbo
has no sons to help him, only an endless stream of daughters. Taking care of the vines all on his own has become too difficult for him, so he agreed to sell his precious land if I take one of his daughters off his hands.”

“It must have been difficult to pick from so many.”

Tito made a face. “They gave me no choice. I liked the eldest, but Signora Bianchi insisted it be Julietta. Still, she is a beautiful girl. They tell me she will make a good wife.”

“Why wouldn’t they let you have the older one?”

“She is meant to become a Bride of Christ.” He shook his head in mock sorrow. “More’s the pity.”

“But—”

Tito swept a hand through the air. “It is done. When you meet Julietta tonight you will see I didn’t do too badly for myself.” He signaled for the waiter to bring more coffee. “Are you going to show me the ring or keep it a secret until the party?”

Now that the moment had come, he didn’t want to give Tito the ring, not when it was meant for Julietta. To allow
his
ring to link
his
woman to another roused an impotent fury he could barely contain. “I have it,” he admitted reluctantly. He removed the box from his pocket and set it on the table between them. “I’m to tell you my cousin Donato crafted it.”

Tito flipped open the box and inhaled sharply.
“Palle!
That’s total bullshit, and you know it. Donato could not have created anything this stunning if he lived to be a hundred.”

Rom closed his hands into fists to keep himself from snatching back the box. “I was ordered to tell you Donato is responsible, and so I have.” He managed a laugh, though it rang false to his ears. Fortunately, Tito didn’t notice anything wrong, or if he did, possibly attributed it to Rom’s frustration at having another take credit for his work. “I can’t force you to believe me.”

“Where did you find this diamond?” Tito studied the flash and fire emanating from the ring. “It’s magnificent.”

“It’s a blue diamond from India. They’re very rare, and with the economy so bad,
Nonno’s
cousins only bought a few of them. I didn’t think they would allow me to have one, let alone cut it.” Rom’s smile came more naturally this time. “I was very fortunate.”

“Your fortune is my fortune.” Tito held the ring up toward the sun and shook his head in amazement. He slowly turned it so the rays bounced off the stones, which sparkled with a deep inner radiance. “Of course, I’m paying well for it.”

Rom sat back, reluctant to accept praise for a ring he would have been delighted to see on any finger other than Julietta’s. He’d designed it with love, care, and attention to detail. He suspected that, more than anything, had convinced the patriarch of Dantes Jewelry to allow him to fashion the ring. The arguments had raged for weeks among the various family members, with Donato among the fiercest debaters, before Rom had received permission to work on the commission. But in the end, he’d won, and
L’amore Vero
was his greatest accomplishment to date.

He’d used the blue diamond for the centerpiece, long believing diamonds came from the flaming heart of the earth and were physical representations of its love. They were his preferred choice for engagement and wedding rings above all other stones. Around one side of the ring, he’d set a swirl of tiny diamonds, around the other side, a swirl of sapphires. The two swirls met at the diamond, to surround and merge and overlap, symbolizing the joining and ultimate union of man and woman. It expressed his feelings toward love and marriage.
L’amore Vero.
True love. The most sacred type of marriage.

Tito carefully pocketed the ring. “You are seriously talented, Rom. There’s something about your designs….” He paused while he thought it through, sipping his coffee. “If a dozen rings were set before me, I could pick out the one you had made. Hell, I could single out yours even if there were a hundred rings from which to choose. I think I would recognize them anywhere.”

Rom flinched. He’d designed this ring for Tito’s marriage to Julietta, a woman he intended to steal away. Guilt threatened to overwhelm him, and a confession trembled on the tip of his tongue, fighting for escape. He ruthlessly bit it back. “You humble me, Tito.”

His friend grinned. “I hope someday you will be able to say the same about my wines. One sip and you will know it is a Rossi.”

Relieved the moment for confession had passed, Rom lifted his cup of coffee and tapped it against Tito’s.
“Salute
. May we both find success in our endeavors.”

“And may we both live our dreams.”