Chapter 21
Amalfi, 1939
Nino pushed in the clutch and shifted gears, steering the Lancia sports car down the steep, tightly curved cliffside road. Lauro gripped the leather seat to steady himself. Though the brisk night air blew through the open windows, a cold sweat bathed his flushed skin.
“Why the hell couldn’t you have left Isabella alone?” Lauro yelled.
Nino clenched his jaw as he leaned into a sharp turn. “You’ve got that backward.”
“Conceited bastard,” Lauro sneered. But it was probably true. Resisting Isabella’s passion until their marriage took every shred of restraint he had.
Nino slowed as he wound around a hairpin corner. The acrid smell of burning rubber hung in the air. When they cleared the turn, Lauro’s pulse quickened.
The headlights shone on a mangled car smashed a
