I call Rizzo the next morning and give him the news. Some hours later, while I’m wondering what to say when I call Luciano, there’s a knock at my office door.
“Come in.” I turn away from the computer just in time to see one of the staff opening the door and stepping inside.
“Mr. Rizzo is here to see you, sir.”
My stomach drops. As far as I’d been aware, the conversation was finished this morning, when we’d agreed that arrangements needed to be made for the official betrothal paperwork to be signed. The fact that Rizzo has shown up here unannounced, isn’t a good sign.
“Show him in,” I tell her, feeling my gut twist into knots. My apprehension doesn’t lessen when Rizzo walks in, and takes a seat without so much as a greeting.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.” I try to keep my expressio
