Prologue

Eighteen Years Before

Venice, Italy

Frediano Giaccobbe was on his knees in front of Giotto Puglia. There was a huge gash on his forehead and blood trickled down his pale face, and there was a bullet wound on his side. He was dying and he knew it. Giotto pointed a gun at him and his finger rested on the trigger.

"You smell like a dead man, Frediano."

He suppressed the urge to laugh. He couldn't speak, he could only shake his head and wheeze. Already his vision was blurry. There was no more pain. He could only think of his family.Vivia, his beloved wife, and his little girls, Chiara and Amalia. The thought of never seeing them again broke his heart to pieces. The realization that he would die without holding them one last time brought tears to his eyes. He recalled briefly the last conversation he had with Vivia, to keep the girls safe and leave Venice. He begged her to leave and never return. To hide somewhere Giotto would never find them. He did not know where they would go, he asked her not to tell him. It was safer that way.

"Don't look so smug. I will find them someday. Your family will not escape my wrath. I will cut them into tiny pieces and feed them to my dogs. I will wipe all the Giaccobbes related to you from this earth." He said this through gritted teeth. "I am a man of my word."

He could only manage a small smile, and as Giotto pulled the trigger, his final thought was of his beautiful Chiara, waving at him across a valley of roses.

Someday I'll see you again, my precious.