But Emiliano’s attention had shifted from Graziella. ‘Piero and I will do it. It’s important that all the members of the family—’ he lingered over the word as if to highlight that Graziella didn’t come into that category ‘—should be confident we have equal opportunity for seeing and understanding everything.’

Piero remained silent but inside his chest his heart was drumming with triumph. It felt like a turning point, no longer him against the others, anxious that questioning Graziella was, by extension, questioning his father. Everyone had woken up to the fact there was a problem. He couldn’t quite hide his smile.

With a show of offended pride, Graziella rose to her feet, tossing corkscrew curls. ‘Excuse me.’ Tucking her designer bag beneath her arm, she stalked through the door. Judging by how soon they heard the engine start up followed by the swish of tyres, she must have broken into a sprint across the yard to escape the hammering rain.

Slowly, Salvatore turned back to his sons. He looked older than Piero had ever seen him as he gestured for them to take his place at his computer. Piero hoped that at least his father’s stone-faced embarrassment presaged change so far as Graziella’s role was concerned.

The day proved arduous.

The first thing Piero did was to disable remote access on his father’s machine. He wasn’t saying that anyone would log in remotely and change or remove files … but saw no downside in making sure they couldn’t.

A major discrepancy came swiftly to light. In line with Zia’s thoughts on the matter, the lawyers had not given the opinion that the owner of Il Rifugio could control access to Bella Vista. In fact, they’d advised the opposite – access was properly agreed, documented and difficult to overset.

‘But the Binotto Group has money. They could probably force the issue,’ Emiliano observed in a tone that suggested he were making a wish.

Stung by the hint of hope Piero retorted, ‘Or they could creep up on Lucia and Durante and slit their throats because their heirs might be happy to sell. Unethical, unlawful but cheaper.’

Emiliano looked abashed.

Salvatore was almost silent, perhaps shocked by his girlfriend’s deceit and mortified that he hadn’t seen it coming. He contributed to discussions only when necessary, his words slow and heavy. By the end of the day the lines on his face all seemed to be pointing south. With a jab of alarm, Piero patted his arm. ‘Tired, Papà? I’m sorry if I forget you’re seventy.’

Salvatore managed a wintry smile. ‘Only seventy.’ The smile faded. ‘I need to sleep on all this.’ He offered no opinion on what might happen after that.