Slowly, Salvatore nodded. ‘I think so too.’ A tiny bead of moisture formed at the corner of his eye. ‘Someone has passed information to Gubbiotti. Gubbiotti, and possibly the “someone”, sees me as the one most easily influenced.’ A flush of rage suffused his face. ‘Me!’ he barked, making Piero and Emiliano jump. Then quietly, brokenly, ‘They think I’m a stupid old man to be manipulated.’ The moisture formed into a tear and followed a wrinkle down his cheek.

‘I’ll get you a drink.’ Piero dropped a comforting hand on his father’s shoulder as he passed, feeling the bones and sinews that might be aged but were still strong. He hurried to the water cooler, thoughts flying, hopes rising – so long as Salvatore’s anger proved not to herald a false dawn.

On his return, Salvatore sipped the water, frowning unseeingly at Piero’s desk until the beaker was half-empty. Then he raised a hand and Piero thought he meant to dash it against the wall …

But he paused.

His gaze became fixed, almost as if seeing something Piero and Emiliano couldn’t. Then slowly, slowly, he let his arm drop. And groaned.

‘Papà?’ Piero had retaken his seat but now he half-started up again.

Salvatore covered his face with his sinewy, age-spotted hands. ‘I can’t hide it any more. There’s a reason we can’t go ahead with Piero’s leaseback idea.’

‘What?’ Piero couldn’t stifle the cry of dismay, though he could see there was something badly amiss with his father.

Salvatore shook his head violently as if throwing off something vile. ‘I have been keeping something from you. Bad news about my health.’

‘Merda,’ Emiliano breathed. He slipped slowly into a chair and stared at his father, eyes enormous.

Salvatore continued in the same weighty, sorrowful manner. ‘I’m losing the use of my left arm. The doctors tell me I have a condition that affects the brain. My body will gradually break down, my muscles spasm. There will be problems with recognition and with speech.’ He groaned. ‘It’s an unpleasant condition. But at least I have Graziella to care for me. She’ll nurse me. And—’ he drew in a deep breath ‘—I’ll have several years before I die.’

Piero gasped a shocked, ‘Papà!’ He felt as if someone had reached in a giant hand and given his world a spin.

Salvatore reached out and grasped his sons’ arms. ‘I’ve been trying to pretend it isn’t happening but it’s time to face facts. We should take Tenuta Domenicali off the market. If I die as a deal is going through it will cause you horrible complications. Wait until … I’m not here.’ His face worked and he swallowed hard. ‘When you inherit my part of the property, you’ll own half each and can choose the right deal then.’