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His words from last night play on my mind.

It’s only a matter of time before they get me, too.

What did he mean by that? Who’s going to get him? Is that why there’s so much security around him? And me? Why am I guarded too now?

Maybe I’m in danger by association. To be honest, it’s kind of freaking me out.

I snap myself out of my worried thoughts and text Nat back.

Do you want to catch up for drinks and dinner? Tomorrow after work?

She replies.

Sounds great, see you then.

I write:

Good luck today, babe.

Knock them dead.

________

It’s 2:00 p.m. when we pull into the driveway of Villa Oliviana in Lake Como. My fabric sample–finding mission didn’t take all day like I expected. It’s amazing how quickly you can get things done when you have four personal assistants driving you everywhere. They all seem lovely, and we even stopped for lunch.

The maintenance man is tinkering with the lock on the big iron gates, and they are off their hinges.

Lorenzo pulls the car to a stop in the driveway. He seems unimpressed that the work isn’t finished.

“I’ll just walk in,” I say.

“My apologies. It won’t take them long to put the gate back on,” he tells me.

“It’s a beautiful day. I’ll walk. Thanks for taking me today.” I smile.

He turns in his seat toward me. “You are most welcome.” His kind eyes hold mine, and I can tell he’s concerned about Rico and his grudge but doesn’t want to speak out of turn.

“I’m going to try and talk to Rico tonight,” I say.

He exhales heavily. “I only tried to protect him, Olivia.” He shakes his head sadly. “I love him like a son.”

“I know.” I reach forward and put my hand on his shoulder. “He’ll come around. He just needs some time.”

He shrugs as if knowing I’m right but he only half believes it.

I get out of the car and walk through the gates. I make my way up to the house. The gardens here truly are spectacular. I walk in through the large front doors. The wind catches them, and they slam harder than I thought.

“Oops.”

I walk into the living area and put my handbag on the side table, and then something catches my eye at the top of the stairs.

Sergio is looking flustered and coming down the stairs. “Hello, hello.” His face is flushed. “I thought you weren’t getting back till late?”

I frown. His demeanor is off, or maybe that’s just me being suspicious of him.

“What were you doing up there?” I ask.

He glances up the stairs. “I was checking one of the security shutters. It was making a crunching sound. The maintenance man wanted it checked so, if needed, he could fix it before he left.”