"Paolo, you're the most loyal man I have," said the don. "I trust you more than I do a blood relative."
"Thank you," Paolo replied, wondering what the conversation was leading to. His employer was squinting and rubbing his temple as if he had a headache. An uncharacteristic stubble of whiskers dotted his chin, showing a great deal of gray within what had recently been the darkest of five o'clock shadows.
"I have a problem that requires your attention," the don continued. "You've always been one of my best enforcers. This matter is ... especially delicate." He brushed his fingers along the marble balustrade that surrounded the villa's courtyard, staring out at the serene waters of the Tyrrhenian Sea. The best view in all Palermo, he often called it--a place to forget his duties as head of the family. This afternoon he seemed oblivious to its beauty.
"I am here to serve," Paolo said, paying keen attention. He had never seen the don so ill at ease.
"Good, good. It concerns my mistress, Angelica."
"She's the one in Rome, yes? Or is it New York?"
"You're thinking of Amelia and Antonia," corrected the don. "I'm speaking of my woman in the Riviera."
Paolo's eyebrows went up. He'd thought he'd known about all his patron's ladies. He was kept informed in order to provide better protection against agents of other families, and so that if the don's wife or elderly mother showed up unexpectedly, he would know to get a warning to his boss.
"I've kept her a secret, even from you," the older man admitted. "She is ... special."
So that's why he'd been spending more time in Monaco this year, thought Paolo.
The don continued. "She is so precious that when I am not with her--and sadly, I can never be with her often enough--I have her guarded around the clock. Earlier this year that was Eduardo's duty."
"Eduardo ... disappeared," said Paolo apprehensively.
)
