Eight
Make sure of my ring.
How many times had Bett said some variation of these words in the last few months? No, not just the last few months, but since Bettino became aware of the existence of Nell Whitby.
What was the deal with the ring? Guido wrenched back the curtains and stared out into what used to be his uncle’s garden.
His now. All of it. The house, the garden, the business. The power. All his.
Except the ring.
He would have cursed his uncle, but why waste the words? His final destination had been determined long before he died. It was a reunion Bett had not feared.
Why the ring? It was such a small thing, easily lost, at most a symbol of something old and long gone. It was a pity he couldn’t talk it over with Claude or Afoniki. Oh yes, Afoniki would know what the ring mea
