Chapter 9 - THE WEDDING DATE
Massimo ordered the camera network cut from the basement.
Too late.
By dinner, Camille was suddenly affectionate.
“Two weeks,” she said. “Can you believe it?”
Massimo looked at the glass she placed in front of him.
“Feels fast.”
“We postponed twice.”
“Maybe we postpone again.”
Her smile faltered. “Why?”
“Because I’m tired of being carried down aisles.”
She touched his hand. “I don’t care whether you walk.”
“That’s sweet.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
He did not drink.
Across the table, Dean barely ate.
After dinner, Massimo asked his family lawyer to bring every trust amendment signed since the ambush.
There were seven.
The newest transferred temporary voting control of several Rinaldi companies to Dean if Massimo became “medically incapacitated.” Another created a spousal management provision that would activate thirty days after Massimo married Camille.
“Who drafted these?” Massimo asked.
The lawyer shifted uncomfortably. “Your instructions came through Mr. Foster and Ms. Ashwood.”
“My instructions?”
“They had your electronic authorization.”
Massimo stared at him.
“I never authorized this.”
The lawyer went pale.
Upstairs, Carla packed two small bags.
She had decided she and Nina were leaving before sunrise, with or without Massimo’s permission.
Nina sat on the bed hugging her rabbit.
“Are we going home?”
“Yes.”
“Uncle Massimo coming?”
“No, baby.”
Nina looked sad. “Who washes his feet?”
“He can ask Marco.”
Nina giggled.
Then the bedroom lights went out.
Carla froze.
The hallway emergency lamps did not come on.
Her phone showed no signal.
Someone tried the locked door.
Once.
Twice.
Then a man’s voice whispered from the other side.
May you like
“Carla. Open up.”
It was Dean.
