The Italian
: Chapter 21

I stare at him, lost for words.

He raises his chin in defiance.

What?

I mean, I had my suspicions, but to have him throw it in my face as if he’s looking for a fight is not something I ever imagined.

“Now, pack your things and leave,” he growls, he turns away from me.

I stare at his back for a while, my mind in freefall. What the hell is going on here? “Why?”

He turns back, curls his lip in disgust, and shakes his head. “I’m no good.”

I stay silent, unsure where he’s going with this.

“This.” He hits his chest with both hands. “This! My story doesn’t end well. Leave while you can.” He sidesteps as he tries to keep upright. “I don’t want this life for you, Olivia.”

My heart breaks.

What’s happened that has upset him so much?

I step forward and take his drunken face in both hands. “I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”

He blinks slowly, trying to focus on me.

“I love you,” I whisper, and I kiss him softly.

“Don’t,” he sighs. “Don’t love me, bella. You can’t love me.”

“Why not?’

“It’s only a matter of time.”

“Until what?”

“My days are numbered.” His haunted eyes hold mine. “They’ll kill me, like they killed my family.”

I stare at the beautiful man in front of me, so heartbroken and forlorn. “Then we go down together,” I whisper up at him.

I kiss him, and his face screws up in pain as he wraps his arms around me. We stand in each other’s arms for a long time. His head is in the crook of my neck, and I hold him tight. He desperately needs comfort. I can feel the pain oozing out of him. I have no idea what transpired today, but I know it’s upset him greatly.

After a while, he’s heavy in my arms, and I know I have to get him upstairs.

“Let’s go to bed.” I take his hand to lead him through the house, and slowly up the stairs. He’s quiet and placid as he lets me lead him—nothing like the raging bull who was downstairs only half an hour ago, fighting everyone.

I pull the covers back and take his clothes off. “Get into bed.”

He stands still, staring at me.

“Get into bed, baby. I’ll just have a quick shower and be back,” I whisper with another kiss. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

He nods, mollified for the moment, and he flops down. I cover him over, and his heavy eyelids close.

I stand at the foot of the bed as I watch him.

Holy hell… what just happened?

Enrico

The banging of my head wakes me with a start. I frown as I try to get my bearings.

Where am I?

I reach out and feel Olivia’s bare behind beside me as she sleeps. I immediately relax. I’m home.

Bang, bang, bang goes my head.

I slowly sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed as nausea fills me. I’m hot, clammy, and the taste of cigars and liquor is pungent in my mouth.

Hell, I need a shower.

I get up and stagger. What the…? Am I still drunk?

I make my way to the bathroom and get under the hot water. I lean against the tiles and try to get my bearings.

How did I get home last night?

I can’t remember anything.

I concentrate as I go back over yesterday.

There was lunch with Sophia, and then I went back to the club and poured myself a drink… more drinks.

I frown as I get a vision of myself punching someone. Who did I hit?

Fuck.

I put my arm on the tiles and lean my forehead against it as the water runs over me. I still feel as bad as yesterday—perhaps worse—because now I have the hangover of all hangovers.

He had another family and everyone knew. I feel so stupid, so betrayed. Humiliated.

I’ve never been so disappointed in my entire life. I always hero worshiped my father, and to replace out he’s just another bastard who used my mother is soul destroying.

I didn’t know him at all.

The men—his men. They knew. They kept his dirty secret for him. For two years, I’ve worked beside these men, day in, day out, and not a word has ever been mentioned about her…

About his other son.

The one I don’t know.

With a heavy heart, I wash my hair, brush my teeth, and desperately wish that yesterday hadn’t happened. The memories of my father are forever tainted. Was he watching the clock every time he was with me? Was he counting down the hours until he could leave to go and see them?

I knew my grandfather had multiple mistresses; everyone knew. He was a typical Italian bastard who wouldn’t come home for days. I expected nothing more from him. It was just how it was. He and my grandmother were hardly on speaking terms. She lived a life of luxury and was happy enough with that.

But my father… he adored my mother. He doted on her… loved her. To know that he spent thirty years loving another woman on the side hurts. I feel betrayed.

So, so betrayed.

Did our family mean nothing to him? It mustn’t have. If he loved us, he wouldn’t have strayed.

I think back to all our times at Lake Como, where he brought me and my brothers to our house here, while my mother always stayed at home.

He came here to see her.

Did he sneak her in once we were all asleep?

My stomach rolls as I get a visual of him having sex with someone else in his bedroom upstairs, while my mother waited for him at home.

Fury begins to pump through my bloodstream like never before. He never told me because he knew I would hate him for it.

Everyone knew. Even Sophia. She went to the funeral. He had a second funeral. What the fuck?

Everyone knew to keep it from me. I feel so stupid, and I’ve never been so humiliated.

I turn the shower off in disgust. I dry myself and walk back into the room to see my blonde angel still fast asleep. She’s lying on her side, and I crawl in behind her and pull her into my arms. I kiss her temple and she slowly wakes. She turns her head and kisses me.

“Morning,” I whisper.

“Mmm,” she moans. “You’re alive.”

I smirk.

“Were you trying to kill yourself yesterday?”

I kiss her neck as I feel my arousal begin to creep in.

“I thought you were going to die of alcohol poisoning,” she says.

“Sorry.” I hate that she saw me like that. “I don’t know what happened.”

She rolls toward me and leans up on her elbow. She’s all mussed up and looks so beautiful.

“Can we finish our conversation now?” she asks.

I frown. “What conversation?”

“You told me everything, Rico.”

I stare at her as panic begins to scream through my system. “About what?”

“I know about the crimes you’re involved in. I know about the Ferrara family business.”

My face falls. I’m rendered speechless.

I wouldn’t have told her. No way I would have told her.

“I know that you think you’re going to die soon.”

I open my mouth to say something, but there are no words. I roll onto my back as I put my forearm over my face. Fuck. I can’t even look her in the eye.

She’s leaving.

We lie in silence for a while.

“I’m sorry about my behavior last night. I’m appalled that you saw me like that. I’ll have Lorenzo pick your things up and return them to Milan for you,” I say as I climb out of bed in a rush.

She sits up. “Can we talk about this?”

“No.”

“I want to know what I’m dealing with here.”

“It’s more than you can handle, Olivia.” I pull my boxers up in a rush. “Trust me.” I storm from the room and downstairs as my heart goes into panic mode.

She’s leaving.

I hit the shutters, and the sound of them rising echoes around me. Light begins to slowly flood the house. I flick on my coffee machine and close my eyes as I mentally prepare myself for her exit. My heart’s racing. I’m sucking in deep breathes to try and calm myself down.

Warm arms come around me from behind. “Rici,” she whispers, and she kisses my back.

I close my eyes. The thought of her knowing what I am is too much.

Disappointing her is my worst nightmare.

“Just go,” I sigh. “It will be less painful if we just get this over and done with.”

“Just talk to me.”

“And tell you what?” I cry.

“I’m not judging you,” she says calmly.

“Aren’t you, Olivia?” I spit and turn to her. “’Because it sure fucking feels like it.”

“You grew up in this life…” she asks.

“Yes… and no.”

Her eyes hold mine. “What does that mean?”

I exhale heavily. “I found out about everything when my father died.”

She frowns. “Up until then you thought Ferrara was a reputable family business?”

“It is a reputable business,” I snap. “There are just some unsavory aspects of it, I’m going to clean it up… but it takes fucking time.”

“Like what?”

I shake my head in disgust. “I’m not discussing this, Olivia. Leave it.”

“Like what, Enrico. Tell me what unsavory means.”

“Brothels, strip clubs, illegal gambling.” I shrug. “Shit like that.”

“Drugs?”

“No. That was the first thing I stopped.”

Our eyes are locked.

“Murder?” she whispers. “Do you kill people?”

I roll my eyes. “This isn’t the fucking Godfather, Olivia. In the past, yes, but not anymore. We run reputable businesses in seedy places. That’s it.”

“I’m just so confused by this all.”

I throw my hands up in the air. “That makes two of us.”

She steps forward. “Why do you think you’re going to die?”

“I don’t!” I snap. “I was fucking blind drunk. Why would you listen to anything I said?”

“Because for the first time since we’ve been together, last night, you were actually making sense.” She puts her hand on my chest. “I knew something was off. Too many things don’t add up, and I knew with the amount of security you have…” Her voice trails off.

I clench my jaw as I watch her. She deserves the truth, I know she’s going to leave me anyway. I may as well tell her.

“For centuries, the Ferrara family have run Italy. They’ve done some pretty fucking appalling things. I didn’t know anything about it. I still know nothing. My father’s staff are limping me through it all until I learn enough to completely take over.”

She frowns. “Why were you so upset yesterday? What happened to make you like that?”

I stare at the floor for a moment, disgusted by what’s come to light. “I found out my father had a comare for thirty years. It turns out everything he told me was a lie and… I didn’t know him at all.”

“Comare?” She frowns.

“Another woman. Another family. They had a son.”

Her face falls.

“Even my mother knew.”

She stares at me, horrified.

“My brothers and I were the only ones who didn’t. I’m humiliated.”

Her face falls as she stares at me. “Oh, baby.” She wraps her arms around me, and I close my eyes at the comfort, even if it will be short lived. I need to get on with it. I step back from her.

“I haven’t been gifted a normal life, Olivia. I’m sorry I dragged you into this. Your discretion would be greatly appreciated.”

“I’m not leaving you, Rico.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, unable to speak.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“You shouldn’t.”

“It’s too late.”

Emotion overwhelms me, and I blink as my vision blurs from the realization of her loyalty. “I don’t even know who I am anymore,” I whisper.

“You’re the man I love.” She kisses me softly. “Just be him.”

My arms curl around her. “I wanted to tell you I loved you first,” I say into her hair.

“You did.”

“When?”

“Last night, in front of about twenty people.”

I close my eyes in disgust. “Oh.”

She smiles softly.

“Was I appalling?”

“Completely. But understandably so.” Our lips meet again, but this time I hold her tight, her tongue dancing with mine as an emotional need warms my blood. “I love you,” I whisper. Our kiss turns desperate, and I push her back against the kitchen counter. The need in me is escalating by the second. I need to taste her, and my attention drops to her neck as I suck and kiss on her perfect, creamy skin. She smells so good. She always smells so fucking good.

“Bed,” she breathes. “Back to bed.”

Before I know it, I’m dragging Olivia up the stairs, desperate to be closer to her.

Inside of her.

The need to share myself with this beautiful woman takes over, and I tear her robe off, throw it to the side, and lay her down on her back. I open her legs, and my eyes roam down over her body. Her full lush breasts. Her flat stomach.

I reach down and spread her sex open.

Perfect pink lips glistening with arousal.

I slowly slide two fingers deep into her sex, and she clenches around me. Her big blue eyes are alive with want.

My cock starts to thump, weeping in appreciation.

Olivia Reynold’s is every man’s wet dream.

Mine.

She knows everything… and she stayed.

I pump her with my fingers, and the bed begins to hit the wall with force.

She loves it when I do this—when I fuck her hard with my hands before I give her my cock.

She’s addicted to the pain.

Her back arches, and she begins to shudder. Close.

A deep moan leaves her lips, and my cock is painful with need.

I move to hover over her, and she wraps her legs around my waist. With one hard thrust, I’m deep inside my woman.

“Rici,” she moans.

I clench to try and hold it as her body ripples around mine. She’s wet and throbbing around me.

Perfect.

My lips take hers. “I’m here, Olivia. I’ll always be here.”

Our body’s writhe together, each of us chasing the ultimate goal.

The rush where we become one.

I lift her leg and pull it up around my chest as I lose control. I begin to hit her hard. The sound of the bed banging on the wall is almost deafening around us. She loves it, sucking me in as she moans beneath me, begging for more.

I hold myself deep, and we both cry out in ecstasy as her body contracts around me.

My breathing is labored. My body covered in perspiration. Her hands in my hair, her soft lips on mine.

But it’s my heart that’s floating…it feels like it just left my body and nestled itself inside of hers.

She’s now a part of me—the calm, sweet, good part.

The best part.

And I am hers.

Two hours later, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I straighten my tie and dust my hands over my pants.

“We’ll talk more tonight, okay?” Olivia says as she kisses me softly. “Try and be calm.” She straightens my collar. “Just don’t say anything more until you cool down.”

“Okay.” I kiss her goodbye and walk out of my house on a mission. After two hours with Olivia in bed, I’m centered again. She calmed me enough to at least get through the day.

I head down the front steps to see Lorenzo, Maso, and four men leaning on the cars out the front, waiting for me.

I walk up to them, stoney-faced, and they all stand.

“Rico.” Lorenzo smiles hopefully.

“Olivia is going to work. I want you all with her today.”

“Okay, I’ll send a car with her. I’m staying with you.”

I glare at him, imagining myself breaking his neck. I’m so angry with him I can hardly stand it.

“That won’t be necessary.” I storm to my car as he follows me.

“Rico, you have to understand—”

I turn on him like I’m the Devil himself. “I understand. I understand everything. You have no loyalty to me or my mother, and I cannot stand the fucking sight of you.”

I turn to continue to my car, and he steps in front of me. “Rico, listen to me.”

“We will have a meeting in the morning to discuss your termination. You are no longer needed,” I growl.

“Rico, I have been loyal to your father for thirty years. You cannot fire me over this.”

My eyes hold his. “My father is dead. If he wasn’t, I would kill him myself today. I’m in charge now.”

I get into the car and slam my door. He bangs on the window.

I exhale heavily as I try to control my anger. I roll down the window. “What?” I growl.

“Go see her.”

I frown.

“Her address is 347 Lakeview Road. Go there, Rico. Please. Go now.”

I clench my jaw and speed off. My anger escalates as I change the gears with a crunch. I fucking hate them all. Tomorrow everyone goes, and I start with new staff.

An hour later, I pull the car up and peer across the road. The impressive house is gated, and I can see a security guard inside. I drove around and around as I tried to resist coming here. In the end, I couldn’t.

I needed to see this for myself.

Pain tightens my chest. His other son is guarded. His other life is guarded.

Was it so well known that even our enemies know?

Or are they guarded from me?

As I sit and watch, I see a woman and a boy walk down the street toward the house. They’re deep in conversation. She punches in the code to the gate and it opens.

That’s them.

She blonde… blonde.

She’s wearing tight denim jeans and a navy puffer jacket. She’s in runners, and has on a New York Yankees cap, with her long, blonde, thick ponytail hanging down her back. She’s laughing. She seems carefree.

She takes the football from the boy and kicks it over the fence to annoy him. He says something, and she laughs out loud.

I stop breathing all together as I watch her. She’s the exact opposite of my mother.

My mother is Italian, with long dark hair. She’s always in designer clothes and high heels. She’s always made up to look exotic—gorgeous. A Ferrara to the bone.

I frown as I watch the enigma across the street. I can’t even imagine my father with someone like her.

My eyes roam to the boy. He would be late teens. He has dark hair with a curl to it, and he looks exactly like I did at that age.

He had a football in his hand before she kicked it away. Maybe he just came from training or something.

I watch them walk in and talk to the man on the gate.

I frown as pain sears my chest. I know him. He’s one of my father’s men.

He works for me.

I drop my head, unable to watch on any longer.

I start the car, and with a million vile visions of my father with her and him, I drive to Milan.

This can’t be happening.

There must be something. I’ve missed something. How didn’t I notice this in the will?

When I arrive at my offices, I head straight in.

“Good morning.” Rosalie smiles.

“Morning,” I say. “No visitors today, please.”

“Yes, Mr. Ferrara.”

I walk into my office, move the light switch and hit the button. The bookcase slides to the side, and I put the code into the safe. The will. I want to look at the will.

The large metal door clicks open, and I walk inside the room-sized safe. It’s filled with transactions, money, and paperwork.

I know where the will is. I saw it in here last week when I was retrieving something else. I look over the shelving until I see a large, dark brown, leather box way up high.

It’s in there, I remember it from back when they were going through everything with me. I stand on the stepladder, take it down, and go back to my desk to open it. It’s a large leather-bound book. I flick through the handwritten pages, and I frown. Title deeds, ownership papers, the properties I own… businesses…

What the fuck am I looking for here?

At the bottom of the box are loose papers. I take them out, and that’s when I see a large yellow envelope.

FOR ENRICO FERRARA TO OPEN

WHEN HE FINDS THIS.

My heart stutters.

I stare at it for a moment.

How haven’t I seen this before?

I tear open the large envelope to replace three smaller envelopes in side, titled in my father’s handwriting. Each one has a name on it.

Enrico

Andrea

Matteo

I put my hand over my mouth, hesitant to open it—Frightened that every memory of my father is about to be crushed.

I open the letter addressed to me.

My darling Enrico,

If you are reading this my son, I have left this world.

I want to start this letter by telling you how proud I am of the man you have become.

Emotion overwhelms me and I blink through my tears.

I miss him.

God, how I miss him.

Hopefully, you will never read this and we will have had this conversation face to face. But, in the tragic event that both my father and I go together, I needed to leave this letter for you.

I’m guessing that you are reading this letter in the days after my death…perhaps weeks.

I didn’t want this handed to you until you were searching for answers. I know you would have had enough to deal with at the time of my sudden passing.

I’m so sorry, son. I wish we had more time together.

I can hear his voice.

I have no idea how to write this or what to say, so the beginning seems like a good place to start.

You may ask why I kept the Ferrara business from you, Enrico—why I didn’t prepare you better.

It was my greatest dream that, by the time you learned of this, I would have held the helm for a good period of time and the violence would have been a distant memory for our family. I knew that one day you’d replace out who your ancestors really were, and I wanted you to be prepared.

Although I didn’t train you for our business, I did prepare you in my own way. The day you became a policeman, Enrico, was the proudest day of my life. You learning that side of the law will help Ferrara greatly in future generations.

I’m guessing that you are searching for this because you have found out about Angelina.

I’m sorry I disappointed you, son. I felt this burden every day of my life.

A tear drops on the letter in front of me, and I stop to try and focus on the familiar handwriting.

Your mother and I were promised to each other on your mother’s birth, when I was only three years old. We met a few times over our lives, and we were to marry when I was twenty-two.

When I was seventeen and visiting an aunt, I met an English girl in Lake Como who was an exchange student. Her name was Angelina Linden, and she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. We talked, and I convinced her to let me take her on a date. One turned into two, two turned into three.

I fell hopelessly in love with her. We spent two wonderful years together in Lake Como, and when she had to return to England, I ran away to go to her. I couldn’t stand the thought of a life without her in it.

My family were appalled. I was promised to another. Many financial deals had been negotiated from this arranged marriage. Stefano came to London and made me return to Italy without my beloved Angelina.

It broke my heart. I never thought I would recover.

Your mother and I began the courting process and I told her I loved another. We spoke often of Angelina. There were no secrets between us. She was a dear friend who helped me through the process. In fear that I would run away again, the marriage was brought forward, and your mother and I exchanged our wedding vows. By this time, we were close friends and I began to have feelings for her. Not the same as my feelings for Angelina, but feelings all the same.

Your mother is the most beautiful, selfless person I have ever met. I adore her with every sense of my being. Over the next four years, we had three beautiful sons together. We traveled along and I was comfortable… but there was a part of me missing.

I close my eyes. I don’t think I can read on. After a moment, I force myself to.

I went to France for business. You can imagine my shock to run into my Angelina, who was there for business also.

In the ultimate act of betrayal, I spent a week in Angelina’s arms and feel deeply in love with her again.

This time, there was no end in sight. I couldn’t live without her.

I returned home and told your mother everything. I asked her for a divorce, to which she declined. She wanted me to be with her for our children’s sake. She wanted the security of having me at home. Your mother didn’t want me to leave her completely. She put forward the idea of Angelina moving to Lake Como, and that I live between the two houses. At first, I declined. It wasn’t fair to either woman. But my heart was with Angelina, and I couldn’t leave your mother with three small children alone.

Finally, it was agreed on. I would become your mother’s companion. I moved into the spare room of our family home. Your mother and I became just friends, and Angelina became my partner.

For many, many years, the three of us were happy with this arrangement. Your mother had my full support and devotion, and I got to live with my sons as they grew. Angelina had my full heart. But Angelina was missing a part of her life.

At the age of thirty-two and running out of time, she wanted a child.

I begin to hear my heartbeat in my ears as I read on.

I wanted to give Angelina a family of her own. She had given up her whole life and family to be with me.

To have half of me.

Angelina’s family disowned her when they found out she had moved to Italy to be a married man’s mistress.

When I wasn’t with her in Lake Como, she was completely alone.

It was a heavy burden to carry for her, and yet her devotion to me never wavered… not once.

She paid the ultimate price for my love: her dignity.

I loved her desperately, Enrico, please understand that this was not something that was created out of lust. I am a bigger man than that. I couldn’t fight my love for her.

I tried. For six years, I tried.

It only got worse with time, not better.

I agreed that she could have a child, and a year later, Angelina became pregnant. For the first time in my marriage, your mother was furious—crazy like I had never seen her before. She wanted to have my only children and she didn’t speak to me for three months. We fought. She showed me a side of her I hadn’t seen before. Heartbroken, I worked desperately hard to get my best friend back. I missed her. I missed your mother’s love, and then the unthinkable happened. For the first time ever, I fell in love with your mother. It was a different love to what I had with Angelina, but love nonetheless.

She deserved better than I gave her.

I don’t know how my life turned out the way it did. I was in love with two women.

My beloved wife and my devoted soul mate.

The three of us suffered, but Angelina ultimately sacrificed the most.

How could fate be so cruel?

The day Giuliano was born, my heart sang with happiness.

The joy that he brought to my Angelina was indescribable.

My biggest regret in all of this is that he didn’t get to grow up with his brothers. Enrico, when I look at him, I see you.

Brave, strong, and loyal.

I love you, son… more than you could ever know.

I drop my head as the tears roll down my face.

I hate to admit it but I can relate to this story. It was almost my own.

I sit and stare at the bookcase in front of me as I try and prepare myself to read on.

You may ask why I didn’t tell you any of this, Enrico.

The answer is simple: it changes you. It changes every part of who you think you are. Knowing that your family’s money comes from crime, knowing that your father has committed adultery for all of your life… it’s soul destroying.

Trust me, I know first-hand.

I was eleven years old when I found out about the family business. I was eleven years old when I witnessed my first murder. I was eleven years old when Stefano brought his mistresses into my life and paraded them in front of me as if I should be proud. There were multiple women—too many to remember. Sometimes three or four at once. This was his normal. This was how he was brought up. This was how he was going to bring me up.

He had no respect for my mother or me. It changed who I was, and for a long time, I hated him for it.

I vowed that I would never let my sons be tainted and bitter the way I was.

I wanted my sons to be proud of who I was.

I’m not perfect.

I know I loved two women, Enrico. The three of us were victims of circumstance. I know that I am still a Ferrara.

But I hope you remember the good in me, and how much I loved you.

My face creases together as pain tears through me.

Please listen to what I am about to tell you. I know you will be angry, but I have my reasoning.

Giuliano does not know anything about my other life. Like you, I have tried to protect him. He knows me as Papa—his father who worked away for a few days a week. The one who idolized his mother.

Enrico, I need you to be the strong man I raised and step up and look after my beloved Angelina and Giuliano.

They are all alone.

I have taken precautions, and they have been guarded up until you replace this letter, but they are now in your care.

I have thought long and hard about this, Enrico, and I have made my decision based on personality alone. I have four sons, but only two are strong enough to be leaders. Giuliano is to be your successor, Enrico.

He will one day follow in your footsteps and lead Ferrara.

“No, Papa,” I gasp.

When Giuliano Ferrara Linden is twenty-one, and not a day before, he will receive a letter similar to the one you are reading now, and he will learn of everything. He will be publicly claimed as my son, and his name will be legally changed to Giuliano Ferrara. He will then hate me, I have no doubt.

I need you to take him under your wing and remind him of how much he was wanted and loved.

My love for his mother has not waned in death, he was my gift to her. Love personified.

Care for him, love him, and teach him what I have had the time to teach you.

Look after my beloved Angelina, and your beautiful mother.

I miss them both dearly.

I love you, my son. More than anything, I love you.

Be brave, be strong, and try to understand my life and why I haven’t always been honest with you. My only goal was to protect your sense of self.

I pray that I have.

All my love,

Papa.

x

Jessica

I hook the microphone onto my shirt. “Can you hear me?” I ask.

The large screen flickers in front of me, and three men come into view. They’re sitting in a boardroom with a screen behind them.

“Ciao, Jessica.”

“Hi.” I smile.

“My name is Alexander, and this is Smithson and Ray. As you know, we are in the Carabinieri.”

“Hello.” I smile as nerves bubble in my stomach. The Carabinieri is the Special Forces of Italy. This call up is a big deal.

“We’ve gone over your resume with the Australian Federal Police with great interest, and we feel that you are perfect for this mission.”

“I’m excited about the opportunity. How can I help?”

He brings up an image onto the screen behind him. It’s an Italian man. He’s very handsome—in his thirties.

“This is Enrico Ferrara.”

I stare at the man on the screen as I listen intently.

“He’s the head of organized crime in Italy. The Don. His family has been untouchable for centuries, even though they are involved in gambling, prostitution, murder, money laundering, and narcotics.”

“Okay,” I reply.

“Enrico is different to the past Dons. He’s smarter, more business-minded, and…” He pauses. “He’s an ex-policeman. He has inside knowledge that nobody has ever had. If his reign over Italy continues, we are in dire straits of losing all control. He controls most of the police force and judging system as it is now. This mission is top secret.”

“Ouch,” I wince. “I’m confused, though. How can I help from Australia?”

“Up until now, we’ve had no way of getting close to him.” They bring up an image of a beautiful blonde woman. She’s around my age, and she’s getting out of a car with what looks like a bodyguard beside her. “Meet Olivia Reynolds. Enrico’s new love interest.”

I stare at the woman on my screen.

“We interviewed her on Friday, under the guise of a missing person she knew.”

“And?”

“She lied for Enrico. She pretended she didn’t know him.”

“Which means she’s on the inside.”

“Exactly. We want you to become her new best friend. You will move to Italy. Go to her gym, pretend that you, like her, have moved to Italy to be with your boyfriend. You will mix with her socially.”

I smile.

“You’re the same age as her, come from the same country, and you will have a lot in common. You need to gain her complete trust.”

I smile broadly.

“We need full access to Enrico Ferrara to be able to bring him down. Can you help us, Jessica?”

Excitement rushes through me. “Assignment accepted.”