I agree with Daniele that security is a major concern. You’re underestimating how dangerous Caballeros can be. I suggest we bring Felipe in.’
Daniele straightened like a poker. He looked at Matteo and nodded slowly. ‘Yes. I can go with that. He’ll be able to keep Francesca safe when she’s ordering dictators around and protect any staff we hire for it.’
‘Wait, wait, wait,’ Francesca interjected. ‘Who is this Felipe?’
‘Felipe Lorenzi is a Spanish security expert. Pieta used his services many times.’
‘I’ve never heard of him.’ She supposed this wasn’t very surprising. She’d only started her traineeship in Pieta’s law firm a few months before, after graduating. Up until his death she’d never had any direct involvement in his private philanthropy.
‘He’s ex-Spanish Special Forces,’ Matteo explained. ‘He set up his own business providing security to businesses and individuals who need to travel to places most right minded people run away from and earned a fortune with it. Pieta thought very highly of him and I imagine he would have brought him in to act as security for this project if he’d...’
If he’d lived.
‘Then we bring him in,’ Francesca said after a pause she could see was painful for all of them. She would never admit it but the thought of travelling alone to Caballeros did scare her a little. She’d never travelled alone before. But she would be brave, just as Pieta had always been. ‘But I don’t need a babysitter.’
‘You might have to wait a few days for him to organise his men,’ Matteo said, ‘but whoever he sends will be ex-special forces like himself and trained to handle any situation.’
‘I can’t wait,’ she told them. ‘I’m not being difficult but I have a meeting set up about the sale of the land tomorrow. If I cancel it, I don’t know when they’ll let me rearrange it for. We can’t afford any delays.’
The whole project rested on her getting the sale of the land agreed. Without it there would be no hospital and no legacy. She had to get that land.
Daniele’s eyes flashed on her. ‘And you can’t afford to take risks.’
‘Pieta did,’ she informed him defiantly. ‘I can decide for myself what risks I’m willing to take and personally I think the risks are exaggerated.’
‘You what...?’
The fight between them was diffused by Matteo raising another hand for peace. ‘Francesca, we both understand how much you want to honour Pieta’s memory—we all want to—but you need to understand we are only concerned for your safety. Felipe has a large network of men working for him, I’m sure it won’t be a problem for him to put something in place for your arrival in Caballeros tomorrow.’
She caught the warning look he gave Daniele.
Daniele must have understood whatever the look meant for he nodded shrewdly before turning his attention back to her. ‘You will do whatever they tell you. You are not to place yourself at unnecessary risk, is that understood?’
‘Does this mean you’re in?’
He sighed. ‘Yes. I’m in. Can we return to the rest of our family now? Our mother needs us.’
Francesca nodded. The cramping in her chest loosened a little. She’d got everything she’d wanted from them and now she wanted to find her mother and hold her tight. ‘To summarise, I’ll take care of the legal side, Daniele takes care of the construction and Matteo takes care of the medical side. What about you, Natasha? Do you want to handle publicity for it?’
Although only married to Pieta for a year, they’d been engaged for six years and she’d thought her shy sister-in-law should have the chance be involved if she wanted. Publicity was important. Publicity brought donations and awareness.
Natasha shrugged her slim shoulders. ‘I can do that,’ she whispered.
‘Then we are done.’ Francesca got to her feet and rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the tension in them. Knowing she had Daniele and Matteo onside meant she could now, for one night only, mourn the brother she had loved.
From tomorrow, the hard work began.
* * *
Francesca clumped up the steps of the jet, shades on to keep the glare of the sun from her bleary eyes, to be greeted by the sombre flight crew. Her brother had been a man to inspire devotion and loyalty from his staff, and their obvious grief touched her.
If her heart didn’t feel so heavy and her brain so tired from all the wine she’d drunk and the two hours of sleep she’d managed to snatch in the freezing room she’d always slept in when they’d stayed at the castle in her childhood, she would be excited to be on Pieta’s personal jet. She’d never been in it before and it saddened her that now she would never travel in it with him.
The document Natasha had signed gave her carte blanche to do whatever was needed and use whatever resources were necessary from Pieta’s foundation and personal estate for the project. She knew Daniele was angry with her for taking advantage of Natasha’s fragile state and she did feel guilt for it but honestly, if she’d asked Natasha to sign over her house, car and bank account to her, she would have done so with the same glassy-eyed look. Before leaving the wake Francesca had pulled Matteo to one side and asked him to keep an eye on her. Matteo was more than just a cousin to them. He’d lived with them since he was thirteen and, being the same age as Pieta, had been his closest friend. Like the rest of the world, he’d been devoted to him. He would look out for Natasha.
Francesca was led into the main area of the jet, which was as luxurious as she’d imagined but before she had a chance to take it all in, she was startled to find a man sat on one of the plush leather chairs, a laptop open on the foldaway desk that covered what she could see were enormously long legs.
She stopped in her tracks.
Not expecting to be travelling with anyone, she glanced from the stewardess, who showed no surprise at his presence, back to the stranger before her.
The darkest brown eyes set in the most handsome face she had ever seen stared back.
Her breath caught in her throat.
It seemed as if an age passed before he spoke. ‘You must be Francesca.’
The English was spoken with a heavy accent and from firm, generous lips that didn’t even hint at a smile.
She blinked herself back to the present, realising she’d been staring at him. ‘And you are?’
‘Felipe Lorenzi.’
‘You’re Felipe?’
When Matteo and Daniele had spoken of the ex-special forces man she’d formed a mental image of a thuggish squat man with a shaven head and a body crammed with tattoos who wore nothing but grubby khaki trousers and black T-shirts.
This man was something else entirely. This man had a headful of thick hair that was darker even than his eyes and touched the collar of his crisp white shirt, which he wore with an immaculate and obviously expensive light grey suit with matching waistcoat and thin green checked tie.
He
