Below these three lines, written in a different, more recent handwriting—Vivien’s sharp, elegant cursive—was a quick note: “The original ledger is still in the floor safe. Destroy it before Lorenzo begins the pre-wedding audit.”
My breath hitched in my throat.
Elena sank into a leather armchair, weeping softly into her hands.
– Por favor, señor.
Duca…
I saw her reading that paper weeks ago.
When she realized Mia had been playing near the desk, she lost her mind.
Me dijo que si alguna vez encontrabas ese papel, o si alguna vez te mencionaba Nápoles, Mia y yo desapareceríamos antes del amanecer.
Dijo que nadie encontraría nuestros cuerpos en el valle”.
The cold fury inside me crystallized into something solid, razor-sharp, and absolute.
I stood up, turning to Rocco, who was standing by the door with his hand resting on his shoulder holster.
“Get the armored SUV ready,” I commanded, my voice dropping an octave.
