Swallowing hard, Allegra nodded. ‘Your leukaemia is back? And the prognosis is a year if we’re lucky?’ Her voice shook with the question, and the pit in her stomach she’d been struggling to keep from widening yawned open as she stared back at her grandfather. With every fibre of her being she had wanted it not to be true, but heart in her throat, she watched Giovanni nod.
‘Sì,’ he confirmed, his eyes steady on hers in a way that told her he wouldn’t let her shy away from the reality of the situation. ‘And this time, there will be no medical intervention. The last time was risky enough, or so the doctors tell me.’
‘There’s absolutely nothing they can do? Are you sure? I could make some calls...’
‘Allegra, cara mia, that is not why I asked you to come home. I have beaten the odds for over fifteen years since I was first diagnosed. I’ve had a good life, and been blessed in so many ways. I’ve accepted my fate. But before I go...’
‘Please don’t speak like that,’ she pleaded.
Her grandfather regarded her with sympathy, then shook his head. ‘You will accept this, much as you’ve accepted so many hard things in your life. You are strong, Allegra mia. You will be even stronger for this challenge. I know it.’
Allegra wanted to childishly shut her ears, to dismiss the old man’s philosophical waxing. But she’d never been one to bury her head in the sand. She’d been ejected from childhood to a role of responsibility over her younger siblings almost overnight. Alessandro, her oldest brother, and Dante and Dario, the twin hellions who’d made the life of every single person they came into contact with at the Di Sione mansion a misery, had been sent to boarding school as soon as they were old enough, but her three younger siblings had been her responsibility. And while she knew deep in her heart that she hadn’t succeeded in her efforts to be the best role model for her sisters and brothers, she’d tried her damnedest to make their orphaned lives as easy as possible. In a world where nannies had come and gone with the frequency of a revolving door, and a grandfather who’d been fully immersed in building his empire, Allegra had tried to bring stability to her younger charges.
More often than not, she’d failed, and Giovanni had had to
step in. While with each failure, she’d doubted her ability to be what she needed for her family, she’d never shied away from doing the right thing.
And the right thing was her family. Grandfather and her siblings came first and foremost. Always.
Stemming the pain slashing her heart, she took a deep breath and nodded. ‘What do you need me to do?’
Whether it was the briskness in her voice or the hard acceptance that she couldn’t change the wiles of fate that did it, her grandfather sat upright, his face showing a trace more colour than it had a few minutes ago. Allegra was grateful for it, even as her heart hammered at whatever he was about to ask of her. Giovanni wouldn’t have summoned her if it weren’t important.
‘I need you to recover something for me. Something rare and precious that I lost a long time ago.’
Allegra nodded. ‘Okay, I’ll call the head of the investigative firm I use...’
‘No, you misunderstand. I don’t want this item found. I need it recovered. I already know where it is.’
She frowned. ‘If you know where it is, then why don’t you just send for it?’
Giovanni relaxed in his bed with a slight shake of his head. ‘I need you to go and get it.’
‘I don’t understand.’
Her grandfather exhaled. ‘Perhaps I need to elaborate. You remember the story of my Lost Mistresses?’
Warily, she nodded. ‘The collection you told us about when we were kids? Matteo said you asked him to find one of them for you. So it’s really true? They exist?’
A sad smile flitted over the old man’s lips. ‘Yes, my dear, it’s true. I sold them off to get the capital to start our family business. But now...’ His gaze drifted off and Allegra’s heart lurched at the bleakness she witnessed. ‘Now, I need them back. I must have them back before I die!’
Unable to deny the man whose love—even when it was distant and buried beneath the huge responsibility of caring for his numerous grandchildren—had never dimmed, she nodded. ‘I’ll find it for you, whatever it is.’
Giovanni sighed deeply. His head lolled against the snow-white pillow, but his gaze never wavered from hers. ‘I knew I could count on you. If my memory serves me right, my beloved box was sold to a sheikh decades ago. He wanted it for his bride and, at the time, he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.’ He smiled, although it was tinged with an even deeper desolation. ‘Besides, who was I to stand in the way of true love?’
‘Do you remember his name? Where he was from?’ Allegra pressed, partly because she wanted the facts as quickly as possible so she could pull her grandfather from the memories that were clearly causing him such great sadness. The grandfather she remembered had always been focused very much in the here and now, the future of his family business and the welfare of his grandchildren, his paramount concern. To see him dwelling on the past he so rarely talked about heightened the fear of impending loss.
‘I don’t recall his first name, but he was the Sheikh of Dar-Aman. When we met, he was about to marry the woman of his dreams. He wanted the box as part of his wedding gift to her. It was one of many he’d accumulated over the years.’
‘Nonno,’ she murmured the Italian term she hadn’t used in a long time. ‘I’ll do all I can to get it back, but you have to bear in mind that this was a long time ago. The box may have been sold on.’ The last thing she wanted to do was disappoint her grandfather, but she had to prime him in case she hit a dead end.
Giovanni shook his head. ‘No. I tried to buy it back after the sheikh lost his wife. He refused to part with it. He swore that he would never give it up. I tried one more time a few years ago without success. But it’s still in the Dar-Aman palace.’
The conviction with which he said it made Allegra suspect her grandfather had been keeping a close eye on his precious box. Which made her wonder why he hadn’t made moves to reacquire it before now.
The Di Sione name alone could open the most hallowed doors, never mind the fortune that went with it.
‘Will you find it for me, my dear?’ The plea in his voice was hard to miss. And hard to take in that he’d yearned secretly for this box, which he’d let go in order to lay a foundation for his family.