Elena barely had time to breathe when she walked through the mansion doors that evening before three women descended on her like a swarm of perfectly manicured bees.
"Miss Russo, come with us quickly," said Maria, one of the household staff she vaguely recognized. Her tone was urgent, brooking no argument.
"What's going on?" Elena asked, confusion mixing with exhaustion. After the confrontation at the gallery, all she wanted was to hide in her room and figure out what that cryptic note about her mother meant.
"Mr. Valenti's orders," Maria said, already guiding Elena toward the stairs. "You have thirty minutes to get ready."
"Ready for what?"
"No questions, miss. Mr. Valenti was very clear."
Elena's temper flared. "Of course he was. God forbid he actually explain anything to me."
But
