The Don’s Wife, The Godfather’s Heir

Aziza had rehearsed three ways to introduce herself to Daniel Asherway.

None involved being dragged out of his casino, but the guard watching her from the bottom of the stairs seemed willing to improvise.

“Don’t look at him,” Rebecca said in her ear.

“Which one?”

“The large one deciding whether you’re trouble.”

“He has good instincts.”

“Aziza.”

“I’m walking.”

She continued down the staircase, one hand resting on the rail. The midnight-blue dress had seemed like a sensible choice in the fitting room. Now the narrow skirt restricted her stride, the heels pinched, and she could feel every eye that followed her across the Grand Venetian.

At least nobody could see the weapons beneath the silk.

Below her, a woman in a silver dress laughed as a dealer pushed a stack of chips towards her. A waiter passed with champagne. Somewhere near the bar, a pianist was playing a song Aziza recognised but couldn’t name.

Ordinary people having an expensive evening.

She hoped they would all get to finish it.

“Any change?” she asked quietly.

“Nothing confirmed. Stay focused.”

That wasn’t an answer she liked.

Rebecca had been watching the information coming in all evening. Too many unfamiliar faces. Too much movement around the building. They knew Daniel’s enemies were planning something; they didn’t yet know how much time they had.

Aziza reached the casino floor.

Beyond the gaming tables, a raised dining area sat behind a low red-velvet partition. Daniel occupied the corner table, his chair turned just enough to give him a view of the room.

He looked more relaxed than he had any right to be.

One hand rested beside a glass of whisky. His jacket was open, his dark hair slightly untidy, as though someone had persuaded him to leave work for an evening he hadn’t wanted. He was listening to the woman on his right, but his attention kept shifting towards the casino floor.

Lilian.

Aziza recognised her from the files. Mathew sat on Daniel’s other side, his untouched drink pushed well away from his hand.

Neither of them was here for dinner.

“You have eyes on him?” Rebecca asked.

“Yes.”

“Remember, we need a conversation. Try not to insult him before he agrees to listen.”

“You make me sound difficult.”

“I’ve known you too long to make you sound anything else.”

Aziza resisted a smile.

Daniel was the last of the three men she needed to reach. She had studied his businesses, his habits and the people he trusted. On paper, she knew exactly how to handle him.

Unfortunately, people had a habit of refusing to behave like their files.

Her grandfather’s deadline wouldn’t move simply because Daniel proved inconvenient. Ninety days. Three families. No room for a mistake that exposed what she was doing.

She passed the roulette tables and headed for the partition.

The guard stepped into her path.

“Private dining.”

Up close, he was even larger than he had looked from the stairs.

“I’m here to see Mr Asherway.”

“Name?”

“Aziza.”

He waited.

She waited with him.

“Is he expecting you?”

“No.”

“Then you’ll need to make an appointment.”

“Will tomorrow morning do?”

“You’ll have to contact his office.”

“That may be a little late.”

The guard’s expression changed. Barely, but enough.

She had his attention. Unfortunately, she also had Lilian’s.

Across the partition, the woman stopped speaking. Her gaze settled on Aziza, then moved briefly to the guard.

Daniel noticed the silence at his table and looked over.

For a moment, he simply watched her.

Aziza had expected to feel assessed. She hadn’t expected how irritating she would find it.

His eyes travelled from her face to her empty hands, then back again. He didn’t smile. He didn’t wave the guard aside.

He let her stand there.

“Tell him it concerns Trade Inc.,” she said.

The guard glanced towards the table.

Daniel set down his glass.

There it was.

“Stay where you are,” the guard told her.

“Gladly.”

“Less attitude,” Rebecca murmured.

Aziza pretended not to hear.

The guard approached Daniel and bent to speak to him. Mathew’s gaze found her immediately. Lilian hadn’t looked away once.

Whatever Daniel said was too quiet to catch. The guard straightened and returned.

“Five minutes.”

“Thank you.”

“Your bag.”

She handed him the small evening clutch. He checked it, found lipstick and a phone, and gave it back.

“The phone stays with me.”

Aziza paused.

“Problem?” he asked.

“No.”

She surrendered it and stepped through the opening in the partition.

“Still here,” Rebecca said softly.

Aziza kept her eyes on Daniel.

He was handsome. Annoyingly so. That detail had been obvious in photographs, but photographs hadn’t captured the stillness of him, or the feeling that everyone at the table was waiting for him to decide what happened next.

She stopped beside an empty chair.

“Mr Asherway.”

“You have me at a disadvantage.”

“Aziza.”

“I heard. It doesn’t tell me much.”

“Neither does Daniel.”

Mathew looked down at his drink.

Lilian’s mouth moved slightly, though Aziza couldn’t tell whether she was amused or annoyed.

Daniel glanced at the chair.

“Sit.”

She did. Slowly, mindful of the dress.

“You mentioned Trade Inc.”

“I’m its owner.”

“That’s interesting. I was told the owners were dead.”

Aziza placed her clutch on the table.

“My father and his family were killed. Apparently, being the daughter he never acknowledged has its advantages.”

Daniel studied her face.

She let him.

Rebecca had made the history convincing. There were records, photographs and people willing to remember a childhood Aziza had never lived. But none of them could sit in this chair for her.

“My condolences,” he said.

He sounded as though he was reserving them until he knew whether she deserved any.

“Thank you.”

“And now you’ve inherited a company you know nothing about.”

“You’ve decided that already?”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

She glanced at Lilian, then Mathew.

“Can we speak privately?”

“No.”

The answer came without hesitation.

“What you say to me, you can say to them.”

That matched the file. It was still useful to hear it from him.

Aziza rested her hands in her lap.

“I have a proposal.”

Daniel leaned back.

“Of course you do.”

“Trade Inc. has distribution capacity you could use. You have the resources to keep the company operating while I put its affairs in order.”

“You mean protection.”

“Among other things.”

“And what makes you think I need your company?”

“I think you need options.”

This time, he smiled. It wasn’t friendly.

“Your father left you a business and a collection of people who want it. You’ve come looking for someone they’re afraid of. That doesn’t give you much room to negotiate.”

She could have agreed. Played frightened. Let him enjoy explaining her circumstances to her.

Instead, she said, “You’re assuming you’re in a better position.”

Mathew’s hand moved beneath the table.

Aziza noticed. So did Daniel.

He raised a finger, and Mathew stopped.

“Careful,” Daniel said.

Rebecca spoke in her ear. “Movement at the lower entrance. We’re checking it.”

Aziza kept her expression still.

“Tomorrow morning,” she said, “you’re meeting at the northern docks to sign an oil distribution agreement.”

Nobody at the table moved.

The pianist reached the end of his song. Applause rose from the bar, absurdly loud in the silence between them.

Daniel’s smile disappeared.

“Who told you that?”

“The agreement is a trap.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“The Greens and the Forks are working together. If you go to that meeting, you won’t be signing anything.”

Lilian put her napkin on the table.

“Daniel.”

“I heard her.”

His attention hadn’t left Aziza.

“You understand,” he said quietly, “that very few people know about that meeting.”

“Then you should probably ask yourself which one of them sold you out.”

“Or whether the woman who walked into my casino is part of it.”

Fair enough.

“If I wanted you at the docks tomorrow, warning you would be a strange way to arrange it.”

“Unless you want me somewhere else.”

Aziza stopped.

For the first time that evening, she felt she was speaking to the man she had expected from the files.

He saw the pause.

“There you are,” he said. “Now we can stop wasting each other’s time. Who sent you?”

“Boss.” Rebecca’s voice had changed. “We have a problem.”

At the edge of her vision, Aziza saw a waiter abandon a tray on an empty table.

He didn’t look back for it.

“Aziza,” Daniel said.

She looked past him towards the balcony.

A man stood by the railing where there hadn’t been one a moment before. His hand was inside his jacket.

“Daniel,” she said. “Get down.”

His eyes narrowed.

Above them, the glass dome shattered.