I would have been surprised if they let me go alone, honestly.

Used to having guards nearby since I was a little girl, I went along, ignoring Marco and the other man, whom Marco introduced me to and whose name I instantly forgot. We boarded our flight within the next half hour, and I settled in. I read the coverage of my father’s funeral in the newspaper reports, saw my face in the photos along with Salvatore’s and numerous others plastered across page after page of both local newspapers I’d picked up. We made big news here. The reining Mafia family, coming to bury their biggest rival. The daughter of the fallen man, now on the arm of the opposing family’s son. Most of the articles actually told the story of how we’d met and fallen in love. That would be Franco Benedetti’s work. It wouldn’t look good to tell the public the truth.

I folded the paper and tucked it into the pocket of the seat in front of me. I closed my eyes. I felt my bodyguard’s gaze on me, but I ignored him as best as I could.

With a three-hour delay in Rome, by the time we arrived in New Jersey and then drove the hour and a half to Salvatore’s home in Saddle River, I was exhausted. Evening fell, and it took an effort to keep my eyes open, to take in the surroundings of my new home. I was grateful it was Salvatore’s house and not the Benedetti family home.

Salvatore’s estate was large and very private. Tall iron gates opened upon our arrival. Only moonlight illuminated most of the grounds, until we drew closer to the house, and I got my first glimpse of the mansion with its huge garage, outbuildings, and extensive and various types of landscaping lights. The grounds, from what I could make out, were expansive, with woods circling most of the property. It seemed to me that the driveway was at least a mile long before it finally circled at the main entrance to the residence. A woman came outside and waited for us. As soon as the car stopped, I climbed out on my own, needing to stretch my legs after so many hours of sitting. I’d grown up surrounded by wealth, but I’d never lived in a house this grand. It seemed pretentious of Salvatore, maybe another weakness. I walked toward the woman.

“Ma’am.”

“Just Lucia,” I answered, attempting to give her a warm smile. I’d need allies. I didn’t want to be hated.

The woman smiled back and nodded. I turned to the guard who’d flown with me. He looked as tired as I felt.

“When will Salvatore arrive?” I asked, wanting information.

“I’m not sure.”

“Come inside,” the woman said.