At the last valuation, it’d been estimated to be worth over three billion dollars.
Just another reason the various government agencies were creaming themselves to find a reason to snatch it from under us. And the reason Orazio had made sure he had past, present and future generations of politicians and law enforcement officials firmly in his pocket.
It had everything from four swimming pools, a bowling alley, stables, shooting range and full golf course, to underground bunkers the size of three football fields – in case of the nuclear attack Orazio predicted was imminent – and a miniature cathedral where we were all required to attend mass on religious holidays and family occasions.
Beside me, Rafaelle tensed as we swooped over the mausoleum where several loved ones were eternally resting. Including Isabella Salvatore. Mama.
Security was stationed at seven different points around the compound, and soldiers and attack dogs patrolled with military precision, armed to the teeth with the latest in armament of the mostly illegal kind.
The air was brisk and fresh when we alighted and I chose not to vocalise that I would’ve preferred the fumes of New York City that still managed to rise up to my fifty-fifth luxury duplexin Lower Manhattan. Or any fuel-laced air pumped from hybrid engines in any pit lane in the world for that matter.
Bibi, the twins and a handful of soldiers landed two minutes after we did on an adjacent helipad.
Another of Orazio’s paranoia-fuelled orders was that no more than two of his grandchildren were ever to travel in the same vehicle at any time in case of an assassination attempt. Since the twins refused to be separated and Bibi grumbled about travelling on her own, she’d called ‘fuck it’ and jumped on the jet and chopper with the twins. It was a toss-up as to whether Orazio would lose his shit over that, but I was hoping she didn’t catch any heat since he would be directing his rage at me.
We all had a tough dinner to get through tonight and she’d been through enough.
I felt for her as I watched her wearily trudge the short distance from the helipad to her wing of the sprawling mansion.
The twins peeled off to the hunting lodge they’d unofficially commandeered on their twenty-fifth birthdays, even though for Orazio’s sake they spent enough time in the main house to fool him into believing they still lived under his roof.
The moment we stepped into the grand foyer, Rafaelle slapped me on the shoulder and headed down the right hallway. To the kitchen. His favourite place in the house.
Because it had been our mother’s favourite place.
It was a ritual he never broke whenever we returned to Fallbrook, no matter what. I suspected Rafa would storm through fire or a category-five tornado, risk life and limb to rescue Matri’s beloved pots and pans if it ever came to it.
I hoped it never did because I sure as fuck wouldn’t let him.
No matter how badly her terrible death had shattered all of us, but especially him, life was worth infinitely more than a handful of crockery.
And yes, I got that there was a certain irony in my thinking when I willingly risked my own life every time I slid behind the wheel of a Furia Racing car.
His footsteps trailed off and I exhaled, letting the very rare silence wash over me. Lifting my head, I stared up at the rotunda and the fancy mosaic Orazio had had some Sicilian painter etch into the domed ceiling.
Somewhere up there, all our names were inscribed onto scrolls and saints’ robes and arrows carried by fat little winged cherubs in a celebration of family, Catholic benevolence and love.
A ludicrous lie.
The Salvatores hadn’t known peace since a woman named Valentina Baglioni had met her mysterious end in a dirty alley in Palermo on Valentine’s Day some six decades ago.
Her name too was up there, notably closer to Orazio’s than even my grandmother’s.
I dragged my gaze from the ceiling as footsteps approached.
Fabiana, the housekeeper, and as close to a surrogate mother as I was allowed without Orazio deeming it mollycoddling, smiled. ‘Cesare, welcome home.’
‘Grazii.’
‘YourpapaandNonnoare on the golf course with Bagio and Pietro. They will be back in an hour. Dinner is at the usual time.’
I allowed her enveloping hug and a kiss on both cheeks before, predictably, her eyes moved past me, searching.
I smiled ruefully. ‘He’s in the kitchen. You should get in there before he rearranges everything.’
‘Diu miu.’ She shot off with a yelp and a swift sign of the cross, and I turned towards the stairs.
If I was lucky, I would be left alone for an hour.
