than a year ago, but somehow he’d never managed to find the time to enjoy it. Not that that bothered him. It was a sound investment—as was the island itself.
One of several islands he owned off the north coast of Sicily, this was the one he favoured most. Dramatically beautiful, it had fine, dark-coloured sand—a result of centuries of volcanic activity. One day he would take the time to enjoy it, but not yet. Right now he had other things on his mind.
He scrolled down the long stream of new emails, scanning them quickly for information. Everything appeared to be progressing as planned. Proceedings would soon be reaching the most critical stage. Everything he had been working towards for so long was finally about to come to fruition. Finally—finally—his vile adopted family were going to get what was coming to them.
The organisation, the meticulous planning, the months of painstaking work that had gone into this scheme were finally going to pay off. His legal father, his so-called brothers, his uncles—the whole damned lot of them—were going to get caught. No mistakes, no one slipping through the net. It was all or nothing.
Jaco had masterminded the whole plan, and his determination to bring his abominable corrupted family to justice coloured his every waking moment. Luckily he knew their biggest weakness—greed. He also knew that to stand any chance of winning he had to play them at their own game. So, with the backing of international drug enforcement agencies and the Italian police, who had been trying to bring the Garalino family to justice for years, Jaco had set up a daring sting operation.
Using the dark web and bitcoin—the preferred currency of the underworld—he had come up with a deal his family couldn’t refuse: a massive cocaine smuggling operation. Under the cover of exporting olive oil to South America, and importing coffee beans to Europe, the cocaine would find its way into Sicily to be distributed around Europe. It was a massively risky strategy—not least because only a few carefully prepared and positioned sample sacks would actually contain cocaine. Something his family wouldn’t discover until they had fully implicated themselves.
The stakes were so high that if the sting went wrong—if they found out Jaco was behind it, which they undoubtedly would—he had effectively signed his own death warrant. But Jaco had calculated it as a risk worth taking. Francesca was safely in hiding. He was a single man with no dependents, so at least he would be their only target. And he could take care of himself.
But now everything had changed. He had a son. And Jaco knew he had to take immediate steps to protect him.
As far as he was concerned you didn’t cross your family—or if you did you could expect reprisals of the very worst kind. Family on family. With no mercy. And, like an unprotected baby bird in its nest, Jaco Valentino’s infant son would be seen as a prime target.
Behind him he heard Leah walking down the corridor towards the kitchen, the angry slap of her sandals on the marble floor. Even though she was clearly ignoring him, he instinctively closed the lid of his laptop. Sitting back, he spanned one hand across his forehead.
If the Garalinos ever discovered he had a son, Gabriel would be in immediate danger—even without the sting operation. Merely by virtue of being Jaco Valentino’s son he would be of great interest, seen as a possible weakness in Jaco’s armour, a way of paying him back for leaving the firm.
Jaco had had nothing to do with his adopted family since the age of eighteen, when he had finally managed to escape their clutches. His only regret was that he hadn’t been able to take his younger sibling with him—not then.
Leaving Sicily, he had moved to New York, started a new life, and successfully built up a business empire that had rapidly made him a billionaire. A combination of astute intelligence, an unerring nose for a great deal, plus more than his fair share of good looks and easy charm, had got him far.
But beneath the urbane exterior and the effortless manners lay a very different man. Although he had made his home in many different countries his heart had always remained in Sicily, and slowly he had returned—anonymously at first, but then, as his wealth and power grew, with more authority, buying land, property and, most significantly of all, the Capezzana vineyard.
Capezzana had been in the Valentino family for generations. It had been Jaco’s family home until the age of five, when his world had imploded. When both of his parents had died when their car had plunged over a cliff. Jaco and his younger brother, who had been only a toddler at the time, had been taken into care, and finally adopted by the evil Garalino family when Jaco was eleven.
Although Capezzana had been left to Jaco in his parents’ will, he’d had no claim on it until he was eighteen, so it had been run by a co-operative trust for several years—as the Garalinos had known it would be. This had been their chance to infiltrate the business and put into practice the nefarious schemes that Jaco’s parents had so steadfastly refused to comply with.
Their bravery had eventually led to the ‘unfortunate accident’ that had seen their car plunge over a cliff.
The co-operative had been no match for the notorious Garalino family, and soon the prized Capezzana wines had been adulterated by harmful chemicals, and inferior wines had been relabelled and sold to investors at vastly inflated prices. The Garalino family had got rich quick and their greed had known no bounds.
Luigi Garalino had decided that to have total control over the vineyard he would need to do something about the Valentino boys before the elder one came of age. So he’d come up with a master stroke: he would adopt the two of them. As their legitimate parent he would be able to oversee Capezzana legally for the next few years—plenty of time to induct them into the ways of the Garalino family. And a couple of healthy young boys were always useful in his line of business. The elder one in particular, a strong lad of eleven, had looked to him as if he might be a useful asset.
Wine production at Capezzana had gone into overdrive, with the Garalinos churning out hundreds of gallons of adulterated wine—far more than the land could ever produce. But their greed, as ever, had been their downfall. The government had got suspicious and eventually requisitioned the estate. But with friends in high places the Garalino family had never been prosecuted, and Capezzana had been left to fall into ruin.
That was until Jaco had got involved. After lengthy negotiations he had finally managed to buy the estate back from the government and his inheritance had finally been his. It had taken years of hard graft, but now it was prospering again, its reputation restored. And of all the businesses in his packed portfolio Capezzana was far and away the one of which he was most proud.
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