Venice
“This is very ambitious, Lucretia,” gasped Giuseppe as they sat at the small coffee shop in St Mark’s Square, the one place Lucretia would go in public satisfied that no one would see her amongst the crowds. She sat in her favoured chair in the corner so that she could see everything and be seen by no one. Giuseppe, a balding rotund individual with a permanent frown on his face, was finding the sheer scale of his boss’s plans difficult to comprehend. All he wanted was to make a lot of money and then retire to his beloved mountains.
“My brother went on a fool’s errand; my way is legal, Giuseppe, providing I can keep hot heads like Sabine in their place.” She privately wondered whether she had made a big mistake with the red head, but the girl had been strongly recommended. Their ca
