The grand dining hall of the Corleone castle was too big for four people. Twenty-four chairs sat around a table long enough to seat a small army. Crystal chandeliers hung from a ceiling painted with angels and scenes of battle. Gold-rimmed plates waited in perfect lines. The morning light came through tall windows.
Lady Valentina walked in first. She had spent an hour choosing her outfit: a simple but expensive cream dress, pearls at her throat, hair pinned up neatly. She wanted to look respectful, not desperate. She needed the old man to listen to what she had to say today.
Her daughters were already there.
Sofia sat on the left, legs crossed, wearing a black crop top that stopped just under her ribs and tiny denim shorts that barely covered anything. Her phone was in her hand, the camera pointed at the plate of pastries in front of her.
"God... This looks so delicious,"
