She’d just unknowingly saved her parent’s life.
“If he did, he wouldn’t love him anymore.”
She let out a ragged breath. “If no other lives have to be ruined besides mine, I’m willing to live with that. Besides, my parents are in prison. They would be in agony to hear it, knowing they could do nothing about it.” She hesitated. “You know what, never mind what I said. My life isn’t ruined. I shouldn’t have said that. I’ve overcome it and thankfully have wonderful friends, another wonderful uncle, wealth, and a good life.”
“Except when it storms.”
She closed her mouth tight and didn’t utter another word.
“Is his last name Cattaneo?”
“I’ll tell you if you promise not to get him in trouble.”
“I can’t promise that.”
“Then I can’t tell you.”
The standoff between us went on for longer than I liked. I let the silence linger until she finally spoke.
“Caruso.”
I squinted. “Caruso is Italian. You have Italian blood in your lineage?”
“Yes.”
Penelope was becoming more and more interesting. But Cattaneo nor Caruso sounded familiar to the Italians I knew, and I knew them all—mostly.
“Hmmm.”
“Can we change the subject now?”
“Yes.” She nodded, relief washing over her face.
“Let me introduce you to someone.” I led Penelope into the grand palace kitchen. As we entered, the staff greeted us formally.
“Mr. Lucas, it’s wonderful to have you back in Italy.”
“Speak English, Edgar.”
“Very well. Greetings, it’s wonderful to have you back in Italy.” He glanced at Penelope. “Who do we have the pleasure of serving this afternoon?”
“Ms. Cattaneo?—”
She broke in. “Please, call me Penelope.”
I paused, then regarded Edgar. “You heard the lady.”
“Penelope, it is nice to meet your acquaintance.”
“It’s nice to meet you too, Edgar.”
“My staff and I were informed of your visit, and we have prepared a few lunch options for your choosing.”
“I’m sure it’s delicious, whatever it is,” Penelope murmured with a smile.
“You’re very kind. Would you like a tour of the kitchen?”
She glanced at me. “Do we have time?”