Seated at the head of the polished walnut table was Nicolò Conti, the head of the company. He was in his mid-sixties, with a full head of white hair, and a tanned face indicating he spent a lot of time outdoors. He was also Marco’s father-in-law, and Daniela’s grandfather – Marco had been married to Nicolò’s daughter, Stephana, until the terrible accident that had claimed her life three years ago.

On Nicolò’s right-hand side was his son, Edoardo – Marco’s brother-in-law. He had jet-black hair, like his sister and niece, and he wore it long, tied back in a ponytail, along with a neatly trimmed goatee beard and moustache. His eyes were dark brown, but whereas Stephana’s had been full of light and mischief, Edoardo’s were narrowed and suspicious.

Marco had already been a trained stuntman when he’d met Stephana on the set of an Italian TV crime drama. Originally from Rome, he followed Stephana to Venice, and work and love blended into one, as he gained his pilot’s licence and joined the family company once they were married – two years to the day since their first date. Marco swiftly made an impact on Elicotteri Conti, playing a crucial part in transforming it from a small, local business to a global firm that was the go-to choice for film companies around the world. Stunt work had always been his favourite part of the job: nothing could beat the adrenaline rush of leaping from a burning building, or piloting a speeding chopper through a dramatic explosion.

Marco had an excellent relationship with his father-in-law; he knew Nicolò respected his ability and his work ethic. Even after Stephana’s death, Nicolò and his wife Grazia had continued to make Marco feel he was still part of the family, and they adored Daniela, their only grandchild.

‘Marco, my boy,’ Nicolò beamed, as Marco strode into the room and took the seat on his father-in-law’s left-hand side. ‘How’s my favourite granddaughter this morning?’

‘She’s good. High as a kite after a Carnival party at her friend’s house last night.’

‘Carnival party? She’s growing up so fast.’

‘She certainly is.’

‘She looks more like Stephana every day.’

‘I know,’ Marco sighed, and a sombre mood fell over the room as they remembered what Stephana had been to them: wife, daughter, sister.

‘How was your Carnival party?’ Edoardo asked, breaking the silence. ‘Any useful contacts?’

‘A few … I spoke to Paola Favaro, the head of the tourist board; the Ca’Sagredo Hotel are eager to retain us as their preferred partner. But I didn’t stay too late in the end.’

‘I could have gone instead of you, if you couldn’t be bothered to stick it out,’ Edoardo snapped.

‘You’d have been welcome to. But I don’t think I missed any big opportunities. Do you remember Romano Rinaldi? He’s setting up a concierge service for the city, for high-net-worth individuals, CEOs, VIPs. We’ve arranged drinks next week – he’s keen to have us on board.’

‘Good job,’ Nicolò beamed. ‘You see, Edoardo, this is why Marco attends. Everyone must make the most of their skills, and Marco is a people person.’

Edoardo glowered beneath his dark brows, simmering at what his father was implying; that he should stay in the background, dealing with the mechanics, while Marco got to drink champagne and swan around the city.

‘So, what’s the point of this meeting?’ he snapped. ‘Why have you called us both here this morning, Papà? Half the fleet are due for servicing, and we’ve got back-to-back bookings during Carnevale.’

‘Don’t harass me, Edoardo. I might be an old man, but you can take the time to listen for once …’

Nicolò trailed off as Francesca entered, bringing coffee and biscotti for all of them.

‘Thank you, Francesca.’ Nicolò took a sip of his coffee and sat back in his chair, looking from side to side at both men. ‘I’ve been thinking about my retirement.’

Edoardo gasped. Marco didn’t react, but his eyes never left Nicolò’s face.

‘I’m not getting any younger,’ Nicolò shrugged, ‘And life is short. I’m getting to the stage where I don’t want to spend every day in the office. I want to be able to take my granddaughter to school in the mornings, to drop everything and take my wife on holiday—’

‘But …’ Edoardo began, but Nicolò held up a finger and Edoardo fell quiet.

‘I know that I have an exceptional team in the two of you. Marco, it’s no exaggeration to say that you’ve revitalized this company, taking us from strength to strength. Your piloting ability and stunt skills are, quite simply, some of the best in the entire world.’

‘Thank you, Nicolò. That means a lot,’ Marco said quietly.

‘And Edoardo, I know your passion for helicopters is second to none. You’ve been playing with the toy ones in your room since you were a child, taking them apart and rebuilding them, understanding everything about them. You’re the technical wizard who keeps everything up in the air.’

Edoardo couldn’t help but look smug, revelling in the rare praise from his father.

‘But I can’t deny that life has lost its sweetness since Stephana was taken from us.’ His head drooped and for a second he looked ten years older than he was. ‘I don’t know how long I have left on this earth, and God willing one day I will see Stephana in heaven but, until then, I want to make the most of the family I have left.’

He paused and eyed them both. ‘So, I’ve made my decision. I’m stepping down from the day-to-day running of Elicotteri Conti, effective as of today. I’ll still retain a controlling share of the company, but will act as a silent partner. Marco, you will become interim head of the company, the acting CEO.’

‘What?’ Edoardo burst out, jumping to his feet. ‘But that’s not fair.’

Nicolò looked furious at the interruption, once again holding up a finger to silence his son. ‘For now, Marco is best placed to take over. He has the experience and the ambition required. He is the one that has grown this business, and what’s fair,’ he continued, quoting Edoardo, ‘is that his work is recognized and rewarded.’ Nicolò turned to Marco. ‘I haven’t asked you – are you willing to take on the responsibility?’

Marco blew out the air in his cheeks, looking from Nicolò’s questioning expression to Edoardo’s furious one. ‘It’s a surprise, Nicolò. I thought you’d continue for another decade at least,’ he smiled wryly. ‘But I’m honoured by your trust in me. You know I’m committed to this family and this company. I’ll do everything I can to take it to even greater success.’

‘Thank you, Marco. I knew I could rely on you. You’re like a son to me.’

Edoardo slammed his fist on the table, his face turning puce with rage. ‘But he’s not your son!’ he burst out. ‘I am. I’m your own flesh and blood. And we all know that if it wasn’t for him then Stephana wouldn’t be d—’

‘That’s enough!’ Nicolò roared, cutting him off. ‘Say one more word and I’ll throw you out of this room and out of the company.’

Father and son stared at one another, both breathing hard, lips clenched tightly and foreheads furrowed in anger.

‘My decision is final,’ Nicolò continued. ‘If you can’t work under Marco, then you’re welcome to resign.’

Edoardo didn’t say a word, but his fists were clenched, his knuckles white, as he fought to bring his temper under control.

‘Fine,’ he spat, through clenched teeth. ‘Whatever you say, Father.’

‘Good,’ Nicolò retorted, getting to his feet. ‘Now, I’m taking my wife to Palermo for a few days. I’ll check in with you both next week.’

He walked out, leaving the two men alone in the room, the tension thicker than the Venetian fog.

Chapter 7

‘Look, I know the budget’s kinda spiralling, but you gotta trust me. Have I ever let you down before? This movie’s gonna be the biggest and the best yet. I know we’ll make it all back at the box office, the returns will be huge …’

Issy watched as Brad Redford paced across his suite, talking intently on his BlackBerry.

‘Sure, sure,’ he was saying. ‘But you gotta understand …’

He seemed engrossed in the conversation, and Issy decided to take her opportunity. Casually, she took her purse out of her bag, sliding out the work credit card that Brad had given her to pay for anything he needed – from coffees and protein bars to designer clothing and even, on one memorable occasion, the deposit on a Lamborghini. The last thing she’d used it for was the snow globe that Brad had bought for her on the opening night of Carnevale, and she felt a wave of guilt for what she was about to do.

But what choice do I have?

Grabbing her laptop, Issy went through to the dining area of the suite, sitting down at the table and positioning herself opposite the door so she would see Brad if he appeared. Glancing down, Issy tapped in the numbers from the credit card with shaking fingers.

Just a few hundred dollars, she told herself. Brad would never notice, and besides, she’d return it just as soon as she got her next pay cheque.

She clicked confirm and the transfer was completed. A sick feeling swirled in her stomach.