PROLOGUE
PROLOGUE
Six months ago
O NE WOULD HOPE that on a day like this the sky would be dark and dreary. At least then it would reflect how Enzo De Luca felt. Instead, it was offensively bright.
The weight on his shoulders was heavier than he could ever have imagined. It wasn’t just because of the polished mahogany coffin that rested there; it was the guilt of not having been present for his mother’s last days. It was the grief of losing his only remaining parent. It was the knowledge that their family estate would hardly feel like home again. Not that it had for a while.
Enzo, the Conte del Perlano—a beautiful, lush region in Calabria with rolling hills of vineyards as far as the eye could see—tried to push away the thoughts and grief as he walked. One step at a time, in perfect sync with the other pallbearers. With his brother, Emilio. His mother’s coffin rested between them. Enzo knew his brother would be grieving openly, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t show any of the emotions he felt. He would keep his thoughts shielded as he always did. He could trust no one with them, and all of Perlano would be looking to him, the conte, for reassurance.
One foot in front of the other he walked with the three other men, away from the chapel and towards the meadow behind, where his family had been buried for generations. Enzo wished he could look around. See it all one last time because he knew he wouldn’t return. Not to this place that he loved so much, that held so many painful memories of what he had lost. How painfully he had been betrayed.
Mechanically, Enzo and the others placed the coffin over the hole in the ground and stood back, watching as straps were looped through the handles. Everyone gathered around the gravesite with a stem of pink oleander. It was winter and the oleander shrubs had died for the season, but Enzo had them brought in so his mother could be around her favourite flowers just one more time. Not an easy task on short notice given the strict rules around its importation, but Enzo had made it happen.
He stepped forward as the mahogany box began to lower and tossed his flower in. Everyone else must have joined him because the wood was slowly disappearing beneath a carpet of pink. Heart breaking, he watched only as his mother was lowered and once she reached the bottom, he turned his back and began walking away.
‘Leoncino...’ He heard a voice call to him, but he would not look back. Let Emilio deal with everyone. Enzo was done. He could feel the burning gazes on his back as he walked away, but he ignored them all.
A black car waited for him outside the chapel. He opened the back door and slid in.
‘To the airport,’ he instructed. Enzo hadn’t said a single goodbye. All he needed was to return to Sydney.