‘ARE YOU WITH ME?’ Francesca Pellegrini tightened her ponytail and glared at the two men sitting opposite her in the small draughty room of the family castle. ‘Will we work together and build the hospital in Pieta’s memory?’
Daniele threw his hands in the air. ‘Do we have to discuss this now, in the middle of his wake?’
‘I am talking about building an enduring legacy for our brother,’ she reminded him crossly.
Francesca had known Daniele and Matteo would need a little convincing but had complete faith she would get their agreement. Hurricane Igor had decimated the Caribbean island of Caballeros only ten days ago. Twenty thousand people had died and the island had been left with only seven working hospitals for a population of eight million. Pieta, the eldest of the Pellegrini siblings, had seen the devastation on the news and had sprung straight into action in the way she had always so admired.
Despite running an international law firm, he’d always looked at practical ways to help those suffering at the hands of natural disasters, donating money, hosting fundraisers and getting his hands dirty. He’d been famed and honoured for his philanthropy and she’d been so proud to call herself his sister. She could hardly believe she would never see him again, his life cut short when his helicopter crashed in thick fog.
‘I’m not asking you for the moon,’ she continued, ‘I’m asking you to put your skills into building the hospital Pieta was planning for a country that has lost everything and to do it in our brother’s memory.’ Daniele earned a fortune—he’d just taken delivery of a brand-new yacht!—but what good did he do with it? Who did her brother serve other than the god of money?
Francesca knew she was being unfair to the brother who’d always doted on her but what did it matter? Pieta was dead and the only thing she could focus on to endure the pain was continuing with his plan and thus continuing his legacy.
‘I’m not saying it’s a bad idea,’ he snapped back. ‘Just that we shouldn’t be rushing into anything. There are security concerns for a start.’
‘The country has been flattened. The only concerns are dysentery and cholera.’
‘Don’t be so naïve. It’s one of the most dangerous and corrupt countries in the world and you want me to send my men to work there and for Matteo to send his staff there.’
Matteo Manaserro, their cousin, owned private medical clinics across the western world, performing vanity services for people who refused to age gracefully. He’d also launched a range of youth enhancing products that had made him world famous and as rich as Croesus. Francesca’s mother was an enthusiastic wearer of the entire range and swore she’d only had a couple of nips and tucks since using them. Pieta had often said Matteo could have been one of the greatest and most eminent surgeons in the world but that he’d thrown it away in the pursuit of money, just like Daniele.
‘I’m travelling to Caballeros tomorrow. I’ll confirm myself that your security fears are unfounded,’ she informed him without dropping her stare.
Daniele’s face went the colour of puce. ‘You are not.’
‘I am. It’s all arranged. Pieta had already earmarked the site to build the hospital on and put aside money for it and arranged meetings with government officials and...’
‘You’re not going. You don’t have the authority for a start.’
‘Yes, I do.’ She played her trump card. ‘Natasha’s given me written authority to act as her representative as Pieta’s next of kin.’
Her sister-in-law, who had sat in on the meeting like a mute ghost, looked vaguely startled to hear her name mentioned. Francesca knew she’d taken advantage of her fragile state of mind to get the authority but squashed her conscience. This was Pieta’s legacy and she would do anything to achieve it. She had to.
Maybe if she finished what Pieta had started her guilt-ravaged dreams would stop.
I’m so sorry, Pieta. I didn’t mean it. You were the best of us and I loved you. Forgive me, please.
‘It’s not safe!’ Daniele slammed his hand so hard on the old oak table that even Matteo flinched.
But Francesca was beyond listening to reason. She knew it but could do nothing about it, like a child thrown into the deep end of a pool and needing to use its limited strength to swim to the shallows. That’s how she felt; that she needed to reach the shallows to find forgiveness.
‘Come with me and keep me safe if you’re that concerned. That hospital will be built with or without you even if I have to build it myself.’
Daniele looked ready to explode. Maybe he would have done if Matteo hadn’t sighed, raised his hand in the gesture of peace, leaned forward and said, ‘You can count me in. I’ll work with Daniele, if he agrees, on how the basic set-up should work, and when the construction’s complete I’ll personally come in and get it up and running, but only for a month and only because I loved Pieta.’
‘Excellent.’ If her cheeks had been able to curve upwards, Francesca would have smiled.
‘But 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