He felt and heard her sob, and then she was making a fist of his shirt.
He kissed her lips gently before pulling away. “It’s time now,carina.”
Tears were pouring down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry for what I said. I…”
He pressed his finger to her lips to stop her from saying anything more. He knew what was in her heart, and that was all that mattered. “I have to go now, so dry your eyes because I will not be able to concentrate if I think you won’t be able to see any danger coming through your tears.”
She sniffed a sad laugh. “Just come back to me, please.”
“I will do my best, I promise, but whatever happens, never forget that I love you.” He kissed her forehead. “Keep the gun in your hand and keep alert.”
She wiped her eyes as he pulled away from her, sniffed even more deeply and gave a brave mock salute. “Yes sir.”
Niccolo’s last image of Georgia before he climbed out of the car was of her tear-stained eyes and the determined jut of her jaw.
Niccolo walked through the gate and took the path through the trees until he reached the cemetery proper. Half-hidden behind a yew tree, he scanned his surroundings.
With a tight breath of relief, he saw the mourners were just stepping out of the mausoleum that marked Lorenzo Esposito’s final resting place.
May he rest in hell.
He fingered the grip of the gun placed face down in the back pocket of his trousers. He carried it for Georgia’s peace of mind because he did not doubt that the majority of the mourners also carried weapons. He guessed there were around a hundred of them. Official mourners that was. Probably close to the same number of weapons, too.
About to step out into the sun and reveal himself, he noticed another figure hiding in the trees, roughly ten meters from where he stood.
He wasn’t the only one to notice. One of the Esposito sons… he thought Tommaso… was indicating the figure to Rico, and as it dawned on Niccolo that the figure was Marisa, the sister of his brother’s wife and the woman he believed responsible for Rico’s newfound conscience, Rico started walking… make that staggering… towards her, his expression that of the utmost disbelief.
But there was no time for Niccolo to wonder why Rico should look so disbelieving at Marisa’s appearance. Tommaso and Mattia were heading towards the cars.
Niccolo stepped out into the open.
Unsurprisingly, it was Siena who noticed him first. She’d always been more observant than any of the men in her family gave her credit for. Maybe she would be the one to try and shoot him first. But no, she caught Mattia’s eye and nodded in Niccolo’s direction.
To see Mattia come to such an abrupt stop that Tommaso walked into him was almost comical.
Niccolo lifted his hand in greeting. He even creased his face into a smile.
Georgia couldn’t stop looking at her watch. Exactly ten minutes had passed. She’d known days that had passed more quickly.
Please, God, keep him safe.
Had Niccolo made contact with the Espositos yet? The first cars had started leaving the cemetery, a convoy of gleaming black limousines filing out that she assumed belonged to Lorenzo’s mourners. But she shouldn’t assume. For all she knew, Niccolo could have been stuffed into the boot of one of them.
But no. A check of her phone, which was linked to his, showed he was still in the cemetery. At least, his phone was still in the cemetery.
Her mind was a whirl of everything. Of the present and the past. It was all converging. Time ticking slowly, but her head a speeding reel of images of memories.
Twelve minutes had passed.
Please, God, keep him safe.
She’d once dreamed of Niccolo proposing. That once had lasted all the wonderful months of their relationship, idle daydreams when she was still oblivious to the fact that she was in love with him. She’d hugged her love close inside herself, a precious secret locked away so tightly she hadn’t even known it herself.
Thirteen minutes.
Please, God, keep him safe.
If anything happened to him…
