Chapter 3

I didn't have the cleaning staff pack my things. I took only the old photo album my father had left me and walked out of the building.

Without my own driver, I hailed a cab.

"14 Mulberry Street, Little Italy, please."

It was a century-old redbrick building on the corner, the first property my father had ever bought and the family's old headquarters.

Every year during the festival, I'd go back there and have an espresso at the café downstairs.

Half an hour later, the cab pulled up on the cobblestones in front of the old headquarters.

The moment I opened the car door, I saw the place was bustling with activity.

A dozen or so construction trucks were parked outside, and workers went in and out, hauling all kinds of building materials and old junk.

The building's old oak doors had been torn off and replaced with sleek, modern motion-sensor glass doors.

The brand-new sign over the entrance read, "Gallo International Logistics Consulting."

I stood at the bottom of the steps and watched a few workers carry a huge wooden crate out.

Inside was my favorite antique chess set, along with some of my father's old nautical charts.

The crate was so full that a yellowed chart fell out, and a worker's boot tore it to shreds.

"Hey, careful. Just throw that junk straight into the dumpster out back."

A familiar voice came from inside.

Vince stood in the middle of the courtyard directing the workers, wearing a fitted trench coat and gold-rimmed glasses.

When he saw me, he froze for a second, then put on a flawless smile.

"Isabella, what are you doing here?"

He strode over to me, his voice as warm and gentle as ever.

"Didn't I tell you not to worry about things over here?"

I looked at the trampled chart on the ground and didn't say anything.

"The old headquarters was just sitting empty anyway. Victoria said the location was perfect for hosting our VIP clients from Wall Street."

Vince followed my gaze to the scraps of paper on the ground and kicked them aside without a second thought.

"The furnishings here are too old-fashioned. They don't fit the upscale image we're trying to project.

"I hired a designer from Milan to redo it all. Come back in a few months, and I promise you'll be impressed."

He took a set of keys out of his briefcase and held them out to me.

"Oh, and I know you like peace and quiet.

"I rented an apartment for you in Brooklyn.

"It's only a studio, but it's close to the subway. Getting around will be easy.

"I've already paid six months of rent for you.

"It's time you got a taste of how ordinary people live."

It was a plain brass key, with a cheap plastic tag still hanging from it.

I looked at the key and had to admit he was good.

He'd boxed me in step by step, without a fight, a raised voice, or a drop of blood.

A few of the workers who'd been carrying things stopped and looked at us curiously.

"Who's that girl? She's dressed so well. Why does someone else have to pay her rent?"

"I heard she's that useless freeloader Victoria keeps around."

"Victoria's got a good heart, paying out of her own pocket to rent the girl a place."

"Right? And look how ungrateful she is about it."

Their voices were pitched just loud enough to reach me.

Vince had obviously heard them too, but he didn't stop them. Instead, he gave me an indulgent look.

"Isabella, they put it crudely, but they've got a point.

"You can't keep coasting on past glory.

"Victoria built this logistics empire with her own brains and hard work."

He leaned in a little closer and spoke so only the two of us could hear.

"Face reality.

"Without Victoria running things, you're nothing."

I didn't take the key. I just looked up and studied his handsome face.

"Vince, aren't you forgetting something?"

I pointed to the redbrick building behind me, already gutted beyond recognition.

"This building and the land beneath it are deeded to Isabella Moretti.

"You took over and remodeled my private property without my permission. That's illegal."

Vince faltered, as if he hadn't expected me to bring up the law.

But he quickly regained his composure and even laughed softly.

"Isabella, you're upset. You're not thinking straight."

He took a document out of his trench coat pocket and waved it.

"Yesterday afternoon, Uncle Silvio signed the long-term lease and renovation authorization for the old headquarters as your authorized representative.

"Did you forget?

"He's been signing your important papers since you were a kid."

I looked at the signature on the document and fell silent.

My uncle had completely taken their side.

When Vince saw I wasn't saying anything, he thought I'd given up, and he pressed the cheap key into my hand.

"Be a good girl and take it.

"Getting a taste of real life will help you grow."