The Italian Inheritance (7 page)

A thought struck her. Hang on a minute! What was it Vialli had said about
ten
million dollars? She stood up and made her way to the wash basin. He’d said Giovanni had left
ten
million dollars to his unknown heir.

An unknown heir
!

Could he have meant her? Was it possible that Giovanni had known about her all along?

Anna splashed her face with cold water and felt better. More questions. Would she ever find the answers to
all
her questions?
Well, there was one way to find out.

“What was it you said about an inheritance?” she asked him the second she walked back into the kitchen.

“Oh, so now you’re interested?”

Anna ignored his jibe. “Please. I’m interested in
whether
he knew he had an heir. Did he know it was a daughter?” She could scarcely breathe, waiting for him to reply.

“I believe so,”
Rafael
said carefully.

“How?” Anna asked immediately. “How did he know he had an heir?”

Had he always known, she wondered. Imagine if Giovanni had been aware all this time that her mother had given birth to his child, yet he had chosen not to contact her, not to have anything to do with his child while she was growing up. Was that even a possibility?

She stared at Rafael with undisguised anticipation.

“I don’t know,” admitted Rafael. “He never told me the details. I was as surprised as anyone when a few days before he died
,
he called me into his room and told me he had a daughter. He said he’d made a terrible mistake and wanted me to find her.”

“Yes?” Anna was enraptured. Giovanni had known about her! He’d known the whole time that he had a daughter, but had refused to acknowledge the fact until he knew he was going to die.

“Isn’t it amazing how death can make people want to right past wrongs,” she mused. At Rafael’s scornfully raised eyebrows she elaborated. “It was guilt, you see. He knew all the time that I existed, yet he’d done nothing to contact me. He obviously didn’t want to disrupt his cushy lifestyle  by admitting my existence to the world.”

“Giovanni wasn’t like that. He wasn’t a coward. He would never have shirked his responsibility.”

“So you say
,
and yet he knew he had an heir he’d never bothered to find. How do you explain that?” She stared at Rafael defiantly.

Rafael couldn’t. He didn’t know any of the details. By the time Giovanni had told him his fantastic story, his mind had become confused with fever. Rafael had asked for details, anything that would help verify Giovanni’s amazing claim.

Giovanni, however, didn’t know enough, and if he did, he couldn’t recall at the time. The old man had mumbled about a woman he’d loved a long time ago. A grave mistake, he’d called it. But there was a child. A daughter. He didn’t know her name.

“What was the woman’s name?” Rafael had pressed urgently, sensing time was running out.

But Giovanni had only shaken his head. “English rose,” he’d whispered. “My pure English rose.”

H
e’d gripped Rafael’s hand. “Find her,” he’d rasped, the pneumonia making it difficult for him to breath. “Find my daughter and make her my heir.”

Then he’d fallen into a restless sleep. The following day Rafael had altered the will and given it to Giovanni to sign. The man had been so weak at that point his signature was barely legible.

The next day he’d succumbed to the infection and died. Rafael had been at his bedside. He’d never mentioned the woman or his daughter again.

To be honest, Rafael was completely confused as to why Giovanni had chosen now to divulge this important information. Surely it was a conversation they could have had at anytime over the last twenty years. But Giovanni had obviously had his reasons, and Rafael had to respect that.

The thought had crossed his mind that perhaps Giovanni was delusional by that stage and didn’t know what he was saying. Rafael still had the old will in which he was the sole benefactor of Giovanni’s fortune. The full
twenty
million would go to him. How easy would it have been to simply destroy the new will and quietly inherit his mentor’s fortune? But Rafael couldn’t do that to the man that had saved his life, schooled him and then nurtured him into the adult he was today. So instead, he had to be content with his half of the money.
Ten
million dollars was nothing to scoff at and Rafael, who at one stage in his life had not even a penny to his name, was immensely grateful.

What he wasn’t so grateful for was the impossible task of locating the missing heir to the Albertosi fortune. He studied the beautiful woman in front of him. She’d had him going there for a minute with her stricken expression and visible grief. But then she’d turned on him and demanded to know about the inheritance. An amateur’s mistake. A true conman
,
or in this case woman
,
would have let it go for a few days, knowing he’d make enquiries. Then
,
if her story checked out, he’d have to go to her.

“Look, I don’t know why Giovanni suddenly decided to leave half his fortune to an illegitimate daughter,” he finally said. “It may, as you pointed out, be guilt, but it’s more likely a sense of obligation on his part. Like I said
,
Giovanni was an honourable man. I knew him well. He wouldn’t run away from a problem like that.”

“A problem?” Anna spluttered in disbelief.

Okay, bad choice of words. Rafael sighed. This was getting messier by the second. “Do you see my problem
,
though
?
” he insisted. “
Giovanni made me executor of his will. That means I have to vet every girl that comes along claiming to be his illegitimate daughter.”

“What do you mean every girl?” Anna had reclaimed her position at the table. Rafael noticed she hadn’t touched her coffee. It was now stone cold. He wanted more. Half turning he put the kettle back on.

“Have there been others? Is that why you’ve been so suspicious of me? You thought I was lying like the other girls?”

“Yes,” Rafael admitted, “There have been four others already. You’re the fifth. The story made the national news. Everybody knew about the unclaimed fortune.”

“So the other four...?”

“All fakes.” Rafael
leant forward onto the plunger. Steam hissed into the air
. “Every last one of them.”

Anna was all ears now. “How did you know?”

“I had them checked out,” he said vaguely. She didn’t need to know about his private investigator.

“Well
,
I can assure you I’m not
a fraud
.
”

That remains to be seen, thought Rafael, pouring himself a fresh cup. He offered her another
,
but she shook her head. Taking his mug, he joined her at the table. She looked pale, but the way she held her head was so elegant, almost regal, that it was hard to believe she was in any distress.
She certainly didn’t appear to be grieving.

“Look, I’m going to have to verify your details,” he said bluntly. “It’s procedure.”

She gave a small nod.

“Will you come to my office tomorrow morning and I’ll get the relevant information from you. I’ve already got your name and address, I think. But I’ll need copies of your birth certificate, your mother’s death certificate and so on...”

“You won’t find any reference to Giovanni,” she told him quietly. “My birth certificate only carries my mother’s name.”

“It still verifies who you are,” he insisted. “I’m going to need it.”

“Do you mind if we
continue
this
conversation
another time
?” she asked suddenly, getting to her feet. “I’m sorry, but it feels wrong talking about the money now. I’ve just found out my father’s dead. It’s a lot to take in.” Her voice faltered. “Especially since I never even got a chance to meet him.”

At Rafael’s quizzical look she repeated, “Do you mind?”

“No, of course
not
.
”
He drained his cup and stood up. “I’ll show you out.”

He walked her to the front door. The key
clattered i
n the lock as he turned it. Anna followed him silently to the gate, which he held open for her.

“See you tomorrow,” he confirmed, hoping he wasn’t doing the wrong thing by letting her go. If she was
lying
, she’d be long gone in a couple of hours
now that her ploy had been discovered
.
“Come in around eleven
tomorrow
. I’m afraid I’m not in the office today,
otherwise we could get
all
this cleared up sooner.”

She gave him a brief nod,
but no smile touched her lips.
As he watched her walk slowly up the path
,
Rafael wondered if he’d ever see her again.

“You have one week.”

The words echoed though Rafael’s mind over and over again. Damn Antonio Mancini. The man would not budge. In fact, his building plans had all been approved and there was nothing Rafael could do to stop the process. Rafael’s modest shelter for street kids would now have to be moved.
That meant he needed to
start looking for new premises immediately.

He got Christina, his P.A.
on the phone and ordered her to start contacting estate agents in the area for viewings this afternoon. No sense in wasting any time. This was one fight he wasn’t going to win.

The thought irked him immensely
. He
wasn’t used to losing.
Looking back over his career so far, there weren’t many situations in which he’d been out manoeuvred. Usually it was the other way round. Rafael had learned the fine art of manipulation early in life. As an orphan, he’d had no choice. It was necessary to do whatever he could to survive. That was the reason he didn’t trust anyone either. Always watch your back. If you didn’t, you opened yourself up to surprise attacks.
He’d learnt that the hard way.

Rafael sat down at a street cafe with a view of the bustling
Naples
harbour and ordered an espresso. Soon he spotted his old friend,
Rico
, striding towards him through the throngs of harbour workers.

“Ciao, Rafael.”

Rafael shook his friend’s hand and gestured to the seat opposite.
Rico
eased his long frame into the chair and immediately the hovering waiter came over and took an order for another espresso.

“What can I do for you today, amigo? Some more spying on our friend,
Signore
Mancini?”

Rafael grinned. “No, not this time. I need information of a more personal nature. A woman.”

“Ah, let me guess. Another lost daughter comes in from the cold, huh?” He laughed at Rafael’s nod.  “Who is it this time? I hope she is at least English, no? I’m not wasting my time again.”

“She is very English,” confirmed Rafael reluctantly. “She presents a compelling case.” He pulled the letter from his pocket. “She had this with her.” He handed it over to
Rico
who
read
it
with interest.

“Seems legitimate enough,” he concluded. “Is there a reason why you doubt her
story
?”

“What makes you think I doubt her,” asked Rafael frowning. “You know I’m obligated to check them all out, no matter how unlikely they may seem.

“I know you my friend.
I can tell you’re not sure
.”

Rafael sighed. “It is true. One minute I think she is being truthful and then she does something so suspicious that I can’t help but doubt her innocence.
”

“Intriguing...”
Rico
sipped his coffee
, eyes on his friend.

“
I need you to
do a standard check for me. Place of birth, parents, school, that sort of thing. Oh, her mother’s passed away, so I’ll need the death certificate
,
too
.
Dig up anything that might be useful.  I’ll
call you
later
with some details. It should all be pretty easy to verify.”

“That still doesn’t mean she’s
the legitimate heir
,” pointed out
Rico
.
“She may be who she says she is, with no connection to Giovanni at all.”

“I know,” agreed Rafael. “
But it’s a start. At least it verifies her
.
After that I’ll have to get a paternity test done. It’s the only way to prove the connection.
”