Chapter 22

TWENTY-TWO

Angelo

We find the boys in the creek by the river, fishing for trout. They fall like vultures on the food Sabella packed. I call one of the guards to bring the 4x4. After bundling the kids inside, he drives them back to the house where Heidi takes care of delousing them before scrubbing them clean.

The clothes I ordered from Bastia are delivered not even an hour later, courtesy of my reputation. The shop owner made the selection and did the drop-off himself. Once the most urgent task of fitting them out in clean clothes is taken care of, I instruct Fabien to make more elaborate purchases.

Heidi feeds the lot in the kitchen, and then I ship them off to bed. Deciding against putting each one in his own bedroom in the old house, I put them up in the dormitory in the guard's quarters for the night, which is situated a mile from the house. At least there, the men can keep an eye on them, and they won't be tempted to vandalize my furniture and wreck my house.

I'm catching up with work after dinner when Uncle Nico shows up. Heidi brings him through to the study.

I get to my feet and round my desk. "Uncle."

"Forgive me for calling so late." He unwinds his scarf and removes his hat. "I wouldn't have come if it wasn't important."

"Naturally." I go to the wet bar and take one of my father's reds from the wine rack. "Drink?"

He dumps his hat and scarf on the coffee table and lowers himself with a groan into a chair. "Why not?" Brushing back his thinning hair with his fingers, he watches me shrewdly. "I have a feeling I'm going to need it."

I unscrew the cork. I've been neglecting the vineyard. I should hire someone to manage it. Now that my father is no longer here, the vines are growing unattended, and the cellar is gathering dust.

The cork gives with a pop. I pour two glasses and carry them over to the lounge area.

My uncle takes the glass I offer and clinks it against mine. "To your health, Angelo."

I study him as narrowly as he's scrutinizing me. "And to yours."

He takes a sip and pinches his mouth. His face pulls into a sour expression that he tries to control but fails to hide. Squinting at me through one eye, he says in a thin voice, "Nice wine."

"It's our own." I suppress a sardonic grin as I take a seat opposite him. "I'll send you a case. I still have a hundred of them in the cellar."

He winces. "Thank you. That's most kind." Pulling at his collar, he cocks his neck. "About the reason for my visit…" He coughs. "Angelo, you should've told us about the girl."

I cross my legs and raise a brow. "Which girl will that be?"

Frustration enters his tone. "The one living with your wife. Your niece, I assume?"

"Ah." I smile. "Did Toma finally enlighten you?"

He puts the glass on the table and spreads his palms. "We had no idea. Why did you keep it from us?"

"My private life is hardly your business, Uncle."

"It's not that. It's that we didn't know," he stresses again. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

I sip my wine, enjoying his discomfort. "Such as thinking that Toma and Gianni aren't doing their jobs?"

"She must've slipped into the house unnoticed."

I smile wider, but internally I'm bristling because my cousins failed me. They could've fucking failed me in keeping my wife safe.

"She walked right through the front door with my wife," I say.

He pulls his shoulders up to his ears. "It could've happened while Toma was taking a piss."

"That sounds like a very convenient coincidence." I swirl the wine in my glass. Fuck. It's a mannerism I must've inherited from my father. The action is an uncanny imitation of how he used to do it. "Perhaps a little too convenient."

"It's possible. You know it can happen. Toma wouldn't be the first man who screwed up because nature called. That's why I'm here, not only to swear on my wife's grave that it was an unfortunate mistake but also to assure you that it will never happen again. From now on, Toma and Gianni will each take a man with them. There will be eyes on the house without fail."

"That's very generous of you," I muse.

"It's the least I can do." He nods solemnly, mistakenly assuming the matter is closed. "Toma will come around tomorrow to apologize in person. He's on duty tonight." He reaches for the glass, eyes the wine, and then pulls back his hand. "By the way, he told me the oldest boy showed up there this afternoon, but you already know that."

I stand. "Thank you for your reassurance."

He follows suit hastily, pushing to his feet. "For how long must Toma and Gianni carry on with this duty?"

"Until I say so."

A pained look flashes through his eyes. "Haven't we done enough already?" He picks up his hat and his scarf. "How much longer do you want us to pay?"

He's such a good martyr. The suffering old man standing in front of me is a far cry from the horny one I met in his house. It's something else I haven't realized before—what a good actor he is.

"Until I say so," I repeat.

He bows his head. "Whatever you say, Angelo."

After a humble pause, he leaves the room.

Just as well I have eyes on the men who are supposed to watch my wife. I don't trust my uncles any longer. I don't know what they're up to, but I will find out. So far, the informant I planted in Uncle Nico's household produced nothing useful. The file the investigator sent me on Emilia didn't prove valuable either. She's just a middle-class girl trying to find a wealthy, old husband who'll leave her a fortune when he dies. One thing is certain, I'm not fucking around with Sabella's safety. Tonight still, I'll triple the men who watch the new house, and I'm not saying a word about it to my family.