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Fight, Antonio.
Fi—
I hear my father’s booming laugh from inside the gates of hell as the river swallows me.
Greed
A SINFUL EMPIRE TRILOGY (BOOK 1)
1
Daniela
SIX YEARS LATER
Getting through customs takes longer than expected, and by the time the taxi stops in front of the Moniz Law Office, light is breaking over the horizon.
“How much is the fare?” I ask, opening my wallet.
Before the driver answers, his phone rings. “One moment, please,” he mutters, holding up a finger to silence me.
What’s one more lost moment? It won’t change anything—not for me. Although lingering at the curb isn’t a good idea.
I adjust the hideous sunglasses from Dollar Mart and lower the brim on my cap before turning my face toward the sidewalk. It’s not much of a disguise, but at this hour it’s enough to get me from the car to the door without being recognized.
Once inside, I’ll sign the paperwork transferring the property and return to the airport in time to catch a flight back to the US. If all goes according to plan, I’ll be home before the end of the day, sleeping in my own bed tonight.
My own bed,yes. But Fall River isn’t home. It’s a safe harbor. The place where everyone important to me—everyone who’s left—is awaiting my return. The gritty American city has been my refuge for the past six years, but it’s not home.
I sigh deeply as the light creeps across the sky—purple hues melting into gold, casting a celestial glow on the ancient city, softening centuries of wear.
While I wait for the driver to end the call, I soak in every nuance, committing the smallest details to memory. It might be years before I see the sun rise over Porto again.This could be the last time.
As I untangle my emotions, a small box truck pulls in front of us.
The taxi headlights shine on the rear of the vehicle, illuminating the chain and padlock securing the roll-up door. From this angle, it’s the single defining feature. The truck is so unremarkable it could fade seamlessly into the landscape, coming and going without catching anyone’s attention.
My stomach roils as I study the grimy license plate.
Memorizing a series of numbers won’t do you one bit of good if you’re abducted.
I grab the door handle, prepared to bolt. But before I do, a delivery man emerges from the truck with three bags of sandwich rolls. He jogs across the street and drops the bread on a bench outside a shuttered coffee shop.
I draw a breath to quiet the trembling inside.
This might be home, but it’s not safe for me here—and it might never be. I can’t even begin to think about testing the waters until after Quinta Rosa do Vale officially changes hands, and the deed is sealed and recorded as a matter of public record.
After that, I’m not worth anything. Yes, I’ll be millions of dollars richer, but money isn’t what they want from me. It’s the priceless vineyards. It’s always been about the vineyards.
“How do you want to pay?” the driver asks, pointing to the charge on the taximeter.
“Euros. Thank you,” I murmur, handing him some bills before getting out.
My eyes dart up and down the deserted street before I climb the steep steps into the building.
This is it.After I sign the papers, we’ll be safe. No more looking over my shoulder. Despite the freedom ahead, a muscle in my chest contracts painfully.
I’m not sure the price of safety has ever been so high, but this isn’t just about me. If it were, I’d never give up Quinta Rosa do Vale. They’d have to pry it from my cold, dead hands.
