Veretti’s Dark Vengeance Read Free

knew how to have a good time. Perhaps he overdid it a little with too many women. His poor wife certainly thought so. Salvatore also takes his pleasures freely, but he’s more discreet, and no woman is allowed to impinge on his real life.
‘Everyone’s afraid of him. Even me. Venice wasn’t big enough to hold both of us, so I left, travelled the world, went to England, met you, and have been happy ever since.’
Salvatore’s picture showed that he was handsome, slightly fierce, with a face that was a little too firm and a mysterious air about him that Antonio told her attracted women.
‘They all think they’ll be the one to soften him, but none ever has. I keep meaning to take you to Venice to meet him, but I dare not.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘You’re so beautiful he’d make a play for you in minutes.’
‘Then he’d be wasting his time,’ Helena had told him, laughing. ‘Let’s make that trip. I should like to see Venice.’
Now she was seeing Venice, but not in the way she’d hoped.
‘We should have come here together,’ she told Antonio, and on the words she awoke.
At first she didn’t know where she was. Then she saw the high painted ceiling, elaborately decorated with cherubs, and the exotic furnishings that might have come from the eighteenth century. Slipping out of bed, she pulled on a light robe and went to the window, pushing it open to find herself bathed in dazzling light.
It was like stepping into a new universe, brilliant, magical, and she stood entranced. The water that flowed past the building was busy with boats. The landing stages were crowded with people, and everywhere she looked there was activity.
A shower brought her fully back to life, ready to go out and explore. She chose clothes that were elegant but functional, being particularly careful about the shoes.
‘The stones of Venice are the hardest in the world,’ Antonio had groaned. ‘If you’re going to walk-and you have to walk because there are no cars-don’t wear high heels.’
To placate his nagging ghost she selected a pair that were flat and efficient and that looked good with hip-hugging winered trousers and a white blouse. Her glorious hair was swept back and fixed so that it hung down her back. Then she stood before the mirror to regard herself critically.
Neat, slightly severe, nothing that would hog attention. Good.
Having breakfast in her room would be too dull, so she went down to the restaurant to confront the banquet there.
It was one of the pleasures of her life that she could eat whatever she liked without putting on weight. Now she enjoyed herself to the full, then went to the information desk to collect some leaflets about the city. Serious business could wait while she had some fun. The young man behind the counter asked politely if she had any special reason to come to Venice.
‘I’m interested in glass,’ she said casually. ‘I believe there are several glass factories here.’
‘They are on the island of Murano, just across the water. Murano glass is the very finest in the world.’
‘So I’ve heard. I believe there’s one called Larezzo that’s supposed to be the best of all.’
‘Some say it is, some say that Perroni is the best. They’re about equal. If you’re interested in seeing a glass works there’s a tour going to Larezzo today.’
‘Thank you, I should like to join it.’
An hour later a large motor boat drew up by the hotel landing stage and she boarded it, along with five others. Ten tourists were already there, and the driver proclaimed that they had now made the last stop, and could head for Murano.
‘Once the factories were in Venice,’ Antonio had told her. ‘But the city fathers were afraid of those roaring foundries, in case they started a fire that would consume the whole city. So, in the thirteenth century, they banished the glass makers to Murano.’
There they had remained ever since, dominating the art with their inventive techniques and the unrivalled beauty of their