The following night stretched long and tense inside the estate's security office, four monitors casting pale light across Isabella's face as she cross-referenced the last of Enzo's financial trail.
Valentina sat beside Damien, watching the feed from a camera positioned discreetly near the estate's private chapel — an odd location for a standing appointment, until Isabella had explained that Enzo had personally overseen its restoration years earlier, and had kept a private office in its adjoining building ever since.
"He's punctual," Marco said quietly, checking his watch. "Always has been. If the appointment holds, he'll be here within the hour."
"And if he suspects we're watching?" Valentina asked.
"Then he won't come at all, and we'll have lost our only advantage." Damien's jaw was t
