Nico came to her room on Monday morning without knocking.
"Get dressed," he said. "We're going to my father's quarters."
No preamble, no explanation beyond that.
She was already dressed, having been up since six to finish the Morozov file. She simply closed the folder. "I am dressed."
He glanced at her black trousers and cream blouse, her hair neatly pulled back. "That works," he said before turning away from the doorway and she followed.
The private quarters were located in the north wing, one floor above her own room, in a part of the estate she hadn't been to before. The corridor was quieter here and the carpet thicker… the kind of heavy silence that filled a space used to being important.
Two of Nico's men stood outside the door. They had been posted there since the night Don Gio died, or perhaps reinstated after the incident at the groundskeeper's building.
Either way, they stepped aside without a word as Nico approached.
