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She scanned the bar. Lucia had noticed the man as soon as she’d sat down – a morose figure with a dark ponytail and goatee beard, working his way through a whisky on the rocks, clearly drowning his sorrows. It had taken her a second to place him, but then she remembered: she’d seen him from her window, walking with Brad and Marco in the hotel gardens. She wondered what his story was. Perhaps he had some interesting information that she could use.

‘Waiter,’ she snapped, clicking her fingers at him as he began to walk off. ‘Ask that man at the bar to join me.’

‘Very good, signora.’

She watched as the besuited waiter approached him, speaking to him discreetly. The man’s head snapped up then swivelled in her direction. As his eyes landed on Lucia he grinned, picking up his glass and walking towards her with a swagger. He clearly thought his luck was in. Pathetic.

Lucia pasted on a smile and took the hand he was extending. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, and Lucia suppressed a shudder of distaste.

‘La Leonessa, I am honoured,’ Edoardo drawled, his slurred voice betraying the fact that this wasn’t his first drink of the afternoon. ‘I am Edoardo Conti. How may I be of service to you?’

Conti … The name rang a bell. Of course! ‘You work for Elicotteri Conti?’

‘The very same. My father founded the company.’

‘How wonderful, take a seat,’ Lucia purred. Edoardo slid into the booth, getting slightly closer to her than she would have liked, but she was prepared to endure it. ‘I’ve met one of your colleagues – Marco DiMaggio.’

Edoardo’s face instantly darkened. ‘I know. I heard about it.’

‘And do you and Marco work closely together?’ Lucia asked, wondering if Edoardo could be her ticket to seeing Marco once again.

Edoardo snorted. ‘Not if I can help it.’

Interesting, thought Lucia, noting Edoardo’s shift in manner when she’d mentioned Marco.

‘I imagine you’re in a much more senior position than he is,’ she smiled, leaning forwards to give him the benefit of her cleavage in the closely fitted, low-cut dress she was wearing. ‘What with you being the son of the founder.’

‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you?’ Edoardo said tightly. ‘But for some unknown reason, my father thinks that my brother-in-law is the perfect person to take over the company now he’s retired. It’s bullshit.’ He downed his shot of whisky in one.

Lucia took a moment to digest this new revelation. ‘Marco is your brother-in-law?’

Edoardo raised his dark eyebrows. ‘What is it they say? You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your relatives.’

‘Oh, do I detect some family tension?’ Lucia probed, her face the picture of understanding and empathy.

‘È uno stronzo!’ Edoardo swore, resentment spiking his words. ‘He’s so arrogant and smug. He thinks he’s so superior, just because my father thinks the sun shines out of his backside, and …’ Edoardo broke off as the waiter brought Lucia’s Spritz.

‘A top-up for my friend here,’ she instructed.

Edoardo smiled lazily, his eyes hazy. ‘Are you trying to get me drunk?’

‘Not at all,’ Lucia lied smoothly. ‘You seem as though you’ve had a tough day.’

Edoardo laughed hollowly. ‘You could say that. I was supposed to be in Murano with Brad Redford and his assistant, and Marco and Gina, all of us acting like we’re best friends and doing this ridiculous tourist crap. It was bullshit, so I told them to screw it.’

‘Gina and Marco?’ Lucia demanded, a bolt of fury shooting through her, but she tried to keep her expression neutral. ‘Marco told me they weren’t together.’

‘I don’t know if they are, but they couldn’t keep their eyes off one another, and I overheard them arranging dinner together as well. My dead sister deserves better.’ Edoardo’s voice was getting louder with every word, and he balled his fists angrily.

‘Marco told me about her. I’m sorry.’ Lucia was genuinely sympathetic.

‘Yeah?’ Edoardo’s head snapped up, and he looked her straight in the eye, his eyes black. ‘Did he tell you that he killed her?’

Lucia gasped. ‘What do you mean?’

‘He let her go up in one of the ’copters when the weather was bad. She should never have gone out that day, and he knows it. The crash was inevitable and, as far as I’m concerned, he was entirely responsible. He killed my sister.’

Lucia was shocked. Marco had seemed like such an upright and decent man, a poor widower who’d suffered a devastating loss. In reality, it seemed he was hiding secrets of his own. ‘I had no idea.’