Dante's Honour-bound Husband

Sev’s expression darkened. “They did that a lot right before…” He shook off the memory. “Go on, Gianna.”

“Uncle Dominic told her he planned to leave and wanted a divorce. Aunt Laura started crying. She said…” Gianna swallowed. “She said ‘But what about The Inferno? You told me it would last forever.’“

Sev stiffened. Primo closed his eyes. Nonna lifted a trembling hand to her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Gianna whispered. “I’m so sorry to tell you this.”

“Continue,” Primo prompted.

“Uncle Dominic said that he’d experienced The Inferno with someone else. If he mentioned her name, I don’t recall it. He said it happens sometimes. That it was beyond his control.” She felt the ripple of disbelief sweep through her cousins and brothers. She didn’t dare look at any of their wives to see how they were taking the news. “Aunt Laura was still crying, but she was also angry. She said that he’d told her when they’d married that he’d felt The Inferno for her. That Primo had told her it only happened once in a lifetime. That she’d never have married him if they hadn’t felt The Inferno for each other.”

“The Inferno does only happen once in a lifetime,” her grandfather said gently.

Gianna shook her head. She looked at him miserably, the pain of disillusioning him worse than anything she’d ever experienced before. “Uncle Dominic said you didn’t know because you’d never felt it for anyone else the way he had. He said that Dantes can feel it for more than one person, but that he could fix things. Take away The Inferno so Aunt Laura wouldn’t love him anymore. He took her hand in his and he released her.”

“What?” The question came from more than one of her relatives.

“He released her,” Gianna repeated. “And it worked.”

For the first time in her entire life she heard Primo swear. She was so shocked she could only sit and stare, openmouthed. Her grandfather spared Sev a brief, sorrowful look. “It pains me to say this about my own son, but Dominic lied.”

Gianna shook her head. “No. No, he didn’t. He left after that and Aunt Laura called a friend. She said that The Inferno was gone. She said she felt it leave when Uncle Dominic released her. And she was glad. Glad The Inferno couldn’t force her to love someone against her will any longer. Now she could go sailing with him in the morning while they discussed the divorce and it wouldn’t interfere with her decisions.” Gianna started to cry. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to tell any of you this because you were all so happy. Now I’ve ruined it for everyone.”

Constantine swept her into his arms and cradled her close. “Shh, piccola. You haven’t ruined anything.”

“Yes, I have. I released you. The Inferno is gone. You won’t love me now.”

“Is it gone?” he asked tenderly. “All this time I have been sitting here listening to your story and my palm has itched and throbbed just as it always has. Even more important…” He took a deep breath. “I have never in my life told a woman I loved her. I’ve even resisted saying it to you. Pride, I suppose. A last defense against something beyond my control.”

She fought to free herself from his hold, but he wouldn’t let her go. “You don’t want to love me, do you?”

“I don’t want to be controlled by love,” he corrected. “So much of my life was spent being controlled by others, by circumstance, by my family’s financial difficulties, that I fought what cannot be fought. What I wasn’t willing to admit until this moment is that love doesn’t mean surrendering control.” He looked at her then, his dark eyes filled with an emotion impossible to mistake. “It means surrendering your heart into the safekeeping of someone you love and trust more than anyone else in the world. And that I do freely. Ti amo, piccola. I love you.”

Helpless tears flowed down her cheeks. “I don’t understand. I took away The Inferno.”

He laced their hands together. “Stop and feel with your heart. Is it still there, or not?”