Epilogue
Stephano waved at the security guards in the gatehouse of Astorre’s estate as their limo left the house.
To him the fact that nothing in there had been touched was a sign. There was no way his friend would bring his bride back to that disaster. It needed a good sweeping of the cobwebs.
No, his friend was not getting married.
Stephano drank his champagne in his black leather-seated limo as they rode back to his house.
His new mother-in-law held her flute carefully and said, “That house cannot be haunted.”
Rosalind reached over and squeezed her mother’s hand as they sped down the street toward his adjoining estate. It was obvious when they entered his land in comparison. The grass and villages were well taken care of it. Rosalind hadn’t noticed before now just how meticulou
