Something flashed in her eyes, making Piero pause before he replied. Had that been … fear?

‘Papà?’ he said, still eyeing Graziella with the uncomfortable feeling he was missing something crucial.

Salvatore was also staring Graziella’s way, a half-frown on his face. ‘Of course, we must explore this option.’

Graziella’s knuckles turned white.

Now Emiliano’s gaze was on her, too. ‘I think we should approach asset finance companies directly. We don’t seem to be having much luck with agents.’

Graziella cast her gaze down. Piero looked from her to his father.

Salvatore wore a perplexed frown but said, ‘Great work, Piero.’ He rose, a signal that the meeting was over and, after a pause, Graziella followed suit.

Piero watched Salvatore take her hand as they left the office, smiling but with an enquiring lift of his brow. Then they passed from Piero’s view.

How odd. But Piero shrugged the apparent anomaly off and got on with his day’s work.

It was well into the afternoon when Salvatore reappeared. He had Emiliano with him. The latter was wearing the black frown he usually reserved for interruptions when he was blending wine. The morning’s good humour had vanished from Salvatore’s face, too. He shut the door and seated himself stiffly. Emiliano propped a shoulder against the wall.

‘Alberto Gubbiotti has just called me,’ Salvatore said heavily.

Piero’s heart plummeted at the sound of the name of the man he’d come to think of as his nemesis. ‘Oh?’

Salvatore rubbed his hand over his mouth, rasping his moustache. ‘He offered me more money for my share if I committed to his deal now. Right now.’

Silence.

Piero’s pulse kicked up. He prayed his father hadn’t decided this was one of the opportunities in his life that needed grabbing. ‘Like a … a sweetener because you’re the major shareholder and he thinks you can force his deal through?’

Salvatore inclined his head, the grooves around his mouth making his expression grim. ‘There are uglier words but “sweetener” will do.’ His eyes flicked between his sons.

Piero swallowed. ‘What did you tell him?’ Despite the air conditioning, sweat prickled between his shoulder blades.

‘That I needed time to think.’ Salvatore sucked air in then puffed it out as if he’d suddenly developed asthma. ‘He urged me to act. Said the offer wouldn’t remain on the table for long.’

Piero murmured, ‘Hardball.’

Emiliano muttered unhappily, ‘This feels off.’

Outside, the tractor clattered across the yard.

Only one explanation suggested itself to Piero. It would open a can of worms but he was prepared to act as tin opener if it might save his home. ‘It’s exactly as if Gubbiotti knows we’re exploring another solution and is acting to head it off.’

A great, exaggerated oh, I get it …! look shot Emiliano’s eyebrows up to his hairline.