Gabriel’s Inferno Trilogy by Sylvain Reynard Page 0,464

“Look at it this way. There will be lots of older kids for our children to play with during Christmas and summer vacations. Eventually.”

“Christmas and summer vacations. All those kids. Holy shit.”

“Exactly.” Gabriel smiled. “Holy shit.”

Chapter Twenty-three

That same day, Christa Peterson strode into the Department of Italian at Columbia University a few minutes early for her appointment with Professor Lucia Barini, the chair. Christa had successfully escaped Professor Pacciani and returned to New York, nursing her wounds (both internal and external) and vowing her revenge.

When she thought about what had happened to her at the Malmaison Hotel in Oxford, she did not use the word rape. But she had, in fact, been raped. He’d forced her to have sex and used violence to subdue and overpower her. For various reasons, Christa chose to think of what happened to her as a loss of control. He took power away from her and used it against her. She was going to do the same to him. Only she was going to make sure he suffered more.

He’d sent an email offering a halfhearted apology. She’d ignored it.

In fact, she’d decided to dedicate her considerable energy to ruining him. She wrote a long letter to his wife (in Italian), detailing their affair from the early days when she was Pacciani’s student in Florence. She enclosed photographic evidence (some of which was pornographic), along with copies of salacious emails. If that wasn’t enough to make his life difficult, she intended to bide her time until she could do something really damaging.

Which was why when she heard a rumor that Professor Pacciani intended to apply for a job in her very department, Christa made an appointment to speak with Professor Barini.

Because she was so intent on revenge, she hadn’t had much time or energy to devote to Professor Emerson and Julianne. In fact, she’d almost forgotten about them.

Since she was early for her appointment, Christa decided to check her departmental pigeonhole. From it, she retrieved a business-sized envelope, emblazoned with the name and address of a prominent New York law firm. She hastily ripped open the letter and read the contents.

“Damn it,” she muttered.

The Professor hadn’t been kidding when he said that he was going to shut her up. She held in her hand a cease-and-desist letter that accused her of several incidents of public defamation of character. Each incident was described in painstaking detail, along with the legal implications of her statements. The letter threatened further action if she persisted in making slanderous remarks about Gabriel or his wife, reserving the right to take action on those incidents that had already occurred.

Fuck, she thought.

Part of her wanted to pen a saucy reply to the law firm. Part of her wanted to continue her crusade to ruin the Emersons simply out of spite.

But as she looked at the other pigeonholes, she realized that such an act would be foolish. If she ever wanted to be admitted to the PhD program and actually graduate, she couldn’t do anything that would embarrass her department.

(And besides, she had a much larger fish to fry.)

As she crammed the letter into her purse, she resolved to forget about the Emersons and focus her attention on ending the career of one Professor Pacciani. To do this, she was going to expose her affair with him.

And, playing the part of the insecure and easily controlled graduate student in Professor Barini’s office, that was precisely what Christa did.

Chapter Twenty-four

Across the ocean, Gabriel switched the light off before pulling Julia into his arms. He began to kiss her neck ardently.

She tensed.

He paused. “What’s the matter?”

“I can’t, remember? I’ll probably be finished the day after tomorrow.”

“I’m not kissing you because I expect sex.”

She arched an eyebrow in the darkness.

“I have a fairly good memory. I remembered that you were on your cycle.” He pulled away, sounding chippy.

She tugged at his arm. “Sorry. I didn’t want you to get your hopes up.”

He lowered his voice to a husky whisper. “Hope springs eternal.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Tomorrow, I’ll show you. Eternally.”

She laughed and curved herself into him.

“So much witty repartée, Professor. I can almost imagine I’m in a Cary Grant movie.”

“You flatter me.” He kissed her eyelids. “Are you excited about being a big sister?”

“Yes. I want the baby to know me. I want to spend time with him or her. I’ve waited my whole life for a sibling.”

“We were planning to spend part of our vacations in Selinsgrove, anyway. As Rachel’s and Scott’s families expand, we’ll want to spend