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Not that it would have been hard to remember, she mused, seeing as he took his exactly the same.
The same thought must have run through Francesco’s head because his eyes suddenly met hers, a look of consternation running through them before he jerked his head back to what he was doing.
It amazed her that he would allow her in his inner sanctum when such a large amount of money was, literally, on the table. Then she remembered the gun in his jacket, which he had placed over the back of his captain’s chair.
Peering less than subtly at his henchmen, she thought she detected a slight bulge in the calf of the black trousers one wore.
Unnerved by the massive amounts of money before her and the fact she was alone in an office with three men, two of whom were definitely armed, she reached for her phone to smother her increasing agitation.
Working through her messages, Hannah’s heart sank when she opened an email from an excited Melanie, who had finally, after months of debate, settled on the wedding-breakfast menu. She could only hope the response she fired back sounded suitably enthusiastic, but she couldn’t even bring herself to open the attachment with the menu listed on it, instead opening a work-related email.
It was the most significant event in her little sister’s life and, much as Hannah wanted to be excited for her, all she felt inside when she thought of the forthcoming day was dread.
‘What are you doing?’ Francesco asked a while later, breaking through her concentration.
‘Going through my messages.’
‘Again?’
‘I like to keep abreast of certain patients’ progress,’ she explained, turning her phone off and chucking it back into her bag.
‘Even at weekends?’
‘You’re working,’ she pointed out.
‘This is my business.’
‘And the survival and recovery of my patients is my business.’
She had no idea what was going on behind those chocolate-fudge eyes but, judging by the set of his jaw and the thinning of his lips, she guessed it was something unpleasant.
A few minutes later and it appeared they were done, the two henchmen having placed all the money into a large suitcase.
‘Before you leave for the bank, Mario,’ Francesco said, speaking in deliberate English, ‘I want you to show the good doctor here your hand.’
The guns hadn’t made any overt impression on her, other than what he took to be a healthy shock that he armed himself in his homeland. He felt certain the next minute would change her impression completely.
Mario complied, holding his hand with its disfigured fingers in front of her.
She peered closely before taking it into her own hands and rubbing her fingers over the meaty skin.
A hot stab plunged into Francesco’s chest. He inhaled deeply through his nose, clenching his hands into fists.
She was just examining it like the professional she was, he told himself. All the same, even his mental teeth had gritted together.
‘What do you see?’ he demanded.
‘A hand that’s been broken in a number of places—the fingers have been individually broken, too, as if something heavy was smashed onto them.’
‘An excellent assessment. Now, Mario, I would like you to tell Dr Chapman who broke your hand and smashed your fingers.’
If Mario was capable of showing surprise, he would be displaying it now, his eyes flashing at Francesco, who nodded his go-ahead. This was an incident that hadn’t been discussed or even alluded to in nearly two decades.
‘Signor Calvetti. He did it.’
Hannah looked up at Francesco. ‘Your father?’
Deliberately, he folded his arms across his chest and stretched his legs out. ‘No. Not my father.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You?’
‘Sì. I caught him stealing from my father. Take another look at his hand. That is what we do to thieves in my world.’
CHAPTER FIVE
FRANCESCO KEPT HIS gaze fixed on Hannah, waiting for a reaction other than her current open-mouthed horror.
See, he said with his eyes, you wanted proof? Well, here it is.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. When she snapped them back open, she gave Mario’s hand another close inspection.
‘These scars look old,’ she said.
‘Nearly twenty year,’ Mario supplied in his pigeon English. ‘Is okay. I ask for it.’
‘What—you asked for your hand to be smashed?’
‘What he means is that he did the crime knowing what his punishment would be if caught,’ said Francesco.
