(Luca)
Rinaldi didn’t ask for permission.
Men like him never did.
The message came from Vincenzo just after dawn.
“Don Rinaldi is at the gates.”
Not requesting entry.
Announcing presence.
I buttoned my cufflinks slowly, deliberately. Let him wait. Even old alliances needed reminding of hierarchy.
“Let him in,” I said at last. “And bring him to the east sitting room.”
Aria was already awake. She sat by the window with a cup of tea untouched in her hands, watching the grounds like she sensed the shift before it reached the house.
“You’re not hiding me,” she said.
It wasn’t a question.
“No,” I replied. “You’re not a weakness to be concealed.”
That mattered.
Rinaldi entered with the confidence of a man who had once held power equal to mine and hadn’t yet accepted that time had ti
