Somewhere far away, Enzo Nuvoloso was scheming, too. Scheming and brooding, mostly brooding.
The comforts of his private lounge and the wine from his cellar barely helped to quell the irritation that had been heaped upon Enzo time after time for the last few weeks.
First, Ginevra—HIS Ginevra—had to fail what was a simple enough mission in the most spectacular way. He thought Enzo taught her better.
Of course, the viscount Oliveira knew better than to release her, despite Enzo's vague threats. Enzo didn't even try ransoming her. Clearly, his failure of a daughter wasn't worth the exorbitant sum Gianni would ask for her.
Then, that Royal Inspector of Finances—a truly troublesome nuisance. He had to stick his nose everywhere, that glory hound—and like most glory hounds, refused to even hear about bribes. Enzo had to throw him a bone to make him leave—an embezzling steward.