‘Allegra?’
She stopped and turned back to Alma. The distress on her slightly wrinkled face was pronounced enough to send a cold shiver down Allegra’s spine.
She hadn’t doubted her brother for one moment, but truth be told, Matteo had been a little preoccupied with the woman he’d attended the foundation gala with. In a secret part of her, Allegra had hoped he was exaggerating the severity of the situation when he’d spoken to her in Dubai.
The expression on the housekeeper’s face now confirmed to Allegra that Matteo hadn’t been exaggerating.
‘He’s not as he was the last time you saw him. Be prepared.’
Mouth dry, Allegra nodded, ran her damp palms on her knee-length navy blue linen dress and continued down the west hallway, neither seeing nor appreciating the light that filtered through tall windows onto priceless works of art that graced the walls.
All she cared about was making it to the end of the corridor, and through the double French doors that led to the pillared terrace.
Be prepared.
Despite the warning, Allegra gasped as she stepped out into the sunshine. She’d expected her grandfather to be sitting in his favourite outdoor armchair. The sight of the bed, rigged with what looked like an oxygen canister, was such a shock to her system she froze in the doorway.
In the bed, her grandfather lay, with folds of cashmere blankets tucked up to his waist. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths and his lids were lowered. But it was his normally vibrant complexion, now turned pasty and shrunken, that hit her hardest. Against the thick white hair, since the last time she saw Giovanni two months ago, the transformation was startling in the extreme.
‘Are you going to stand there like a statue all day long?’
Allegra jumped at the gruff query. Her platform-heeled feet freed themselves from the shock and moved towards the figure, whose frailty was outlined harshly in the morning sun.
‘Grandfather.’ Allegra stopped, not sure of the appropriate words to tackle what was in front of her.
‘Come. Sit down,’ Giovanni Di Sione urged, patting the side of the bed with a gnarled hand.
She closed the gap and perched on the edge, swallowing a sob when her eyes met her grandfather’s. She couldn’t have borne it if the spirit of the indomitable man who’d arrived on Ellis Island over half a century ago had dimmed. But thankfully, his clear grey eyes were as piercing as ever, if a little shadowed with pain.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she whispered, her voice hoarse from the emotions she was trying to suppress. ‘We’ve spoken on the phone so many times since I was last here. And why didn’t you send for me sooner?’
‘You had other things on your mind.’
Allegra frowned. ‘Things like what?’
‘I know how important the foundation gala was to you, and from the reports I’ve heard it was a rousing success. I didn’t want you to worry about an old man when you had a big event needing your attention.’
‘My work will never be as important to me as you are. You know that. You should’ve sent for me!’
A wry smile twisted his thin lips. ‘Consider me suitably berated.’
Chagrined, Allegra shook her head. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. Your quiet fire is one of the many things I’m proud of you for, piccola mia.’ He held out a large hand and she placed hers in it. His touch was warm and reassuring, but her heart dipped to notice that it lacked its usual gripping strength. ‘So, Matteo spoke to you?’
Swallowing hard, Allegra nodded. ‘Your leukaemia is back? And the prognosis is a year if we’re lucky?’ Her voice shook with the question, and the pit in her stomach she’d been struggling to keep from widening yawned open as she stared back at her grandfather. With every fibre of her being she had wanted it not to be true, but heart in her throat, she watched Giovanni nod.
‘Sì,’ he confirmed, his eyes steady on hers in a way that told her he wouldn’t let her shy away from the reality of the situation. ‘And this time, there will be no medical intervention. The last time was risky enough, or so the doctors tell me.’
‘There’s absolutely nothing they can do? Are you sure? I could make some calls...’
‘Allegra, cara mia, that is not why I asked you to come home. I have beaten the odds for over fifteen years since I was first diagnosed. I’ve had a good life, and been blessed in so many ways. I’ve accepted my fate. But before I go...’
‘Please don’t speak like that,’ she pleaded.
Her grandfather regarded her with sympathy, then shook his head. ‘You will accept this, much as you’ve accepted so many hard things in your life. You are strong, Allegra mia. You will be even stronger for this challenge. I know it.’
Allegra wanted to childishly shut her ears, to dismiss the old man’s philosophical waxing. But she’d never been one to bury her head in the sand. She’d been ejected from childhood to a role of responsibility over her younger siblings almost overnight. Alessandro, her oldest brother, and Dante and Dario, the twin hellions who’d made the life of every single person they came into contact with at the Di Sione mansion a misery, had been sent to boarding school as soon as they were old enough, but her three younger siblings had been her responsibility. And while she knew deep in her heart that she hadn’t succeeded in her efforts to be the best role model for her sisters and brothers, she’d tried her damnedest to make their orphaned lives as easy as possible. In a world where nannies had come and gone with the frequency of a revolving door, and a grandfather who’d been fully immersed in building his empire, Allegra had tried to bring stability to her younger charges.
More often than not, she’d failed, and Giovanni had had to step in. While with each failure, she’d doubted her ability to be what she needed for her family, she’d never shied away from doing the right thing.
And the right thing was her family. Grandfather and her siblings came first and foremost. Always.
Stemming the pain slashing her heart, she took a deep breath and nodded. ‘What do you need me to do?’
Whether it was the briskness in her voice or the hard acceptance that she couldn’t change the wiles of fate that did it, her grandfather sat upright, his face showing a trace more colour than it had a few minutes ago. Allegra was grateful for it, even as her heart hammered at whatever he was about to ask of her. Giovanni wouldn’t have summoned her if it weren’t important.
‘I need you to recover something for me. Something rare and precious that I lost a long time ago.’
Allegra nodded. ‘Okay, I’ll call the head of the investigative firm I use...’
‘No, you misunderstand. I don’t want this item found. I need it recovered. I already know where it is.’
She frowned. ‘If you know where it is, then why don’t you just send for it?’
Giovanni relaxed in his bed with a slight shake of his head. ‘I need you to go and get it.’
‘I don’t understand.’
Her grandfather exhaled. ‘Perhaps I need to elaborate. You remember the story of my Lost Mistresses?’
Warily, she nodded. ‘The collection you told us about when we were kids? Matteo said you asked him to find one of them for you. So it’s really true? They exist?’
A sad smile flitted over the old man’s lips. ‘Yes, my dear, it’s true. I sold them off to get the capital to start our family business. But now...’ His gaze drifted off and Allegra’s heart