“Will you ever tell her the truth?”
“I don’t know.”
“She loves you. And she has a right to know.”
I folded up the letter and tucked it into my pocket, rising to stand. “She’s safer if my enemies don’t know about her.” I walked over to look out the window at the growing number of cars. “And after tomorrow, I will have enemies.”
Gia came to stand by my side.
“This is only just beginning, Gia.”
The four ofus left early the following morning, filling Lucia and Gia in on the way there.
“The agent, do you know his name?” Gia asked.
“David Lazaro. Ring a bell?”
“He was Mateo’s contact.”
“Roman will have found out by now,” I said.
“No doubt. Henderson’s house is here to the left.” We parked around the corner of a beautiful, not too large house and climbed out, the early morning damp and chilly. We walked to the house in silence. The old man, Mr. Henderson, greeted us, obviously surprised by the presence of the women.
“Ladies, you’ll stay here while we meet?” Salvatore said as if he were asking the question.
“My housekeeper will make coffee,” Mr. Henderson said.
With that, we went into his office and closed the door.
“Thank you for coming. I know we don’t have much time, so I’ll get right to business. First, I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.”
Salvatore answered while I tried to keep my face hard and unexpressive as stone.
“I realize you don’t know me, but I used to work for an agency where I had access to certain…things.”
“What sort of things?”
“Surveillance. Video, audio, a few other things.”
We both sat there, confused. “I’m sorry—” Salvatore began, but Henderson cut him off.
“We’ll get to it. But first, the will. What will be read this afternoon will come as a surprise to your uncle. I know for a fact he is unaware of this last change made just days before your father’s death.”
“What change?” I asked. “And how do you know about it?”
“I stood witness. Your father trusted me.”
“Mr. Henderson, I’m sorry, but I don’t understand,” Salvatore said.
“You will.” Henderson turned to me. “Dominic, your father is naming you as his successor.”
The words slammed into me. “What?”
“It was his wish that you become head of the Benedetti family.”
“But—”
