Page 7 of The Fall Affair

My blood began to pulse in my veins. “Excuse me?”

“Just because you work hard and hustle a little doesn’t mean you deserve a promotion.”

I stared at him, feeling my face light on fire. “I don’t just work hard and hustle. I’m good at my job, and I run circles around most of the people you gave partnerships to. I want the same respect you automatically get just for coming to work on time.”

His jaw tightened.

“And one more thing,” I said. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but you gave partnership to six people—five men and the woman who blows you. I’d say that makes the person who feels entitled you.” I tossed my napkin on the table and stood.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Harry bit out.

“Anywhere but here.”

Chapter 3

Allegra

I HAVE NO idea what to do with myself.

Less than a week into my unemployment and I was already going stir crazy. I’d cleaned out my closet, washed the windows, bleached the grout in the bathroom, joined a new gym, and signed up for a cooking class, even though I hadn’t turned the stove on in years. I’d also redownloaded two dating apps, but I couldn’t bring myself to sign on. After six years of being in the middle of ugly divorces and now the Harry mess, men weren’t on my agenda in the near future.

A two-mile run had nearly killed me after lunch today, so I added train for a marathon to my to-do list and walked the remainder of the way back to my apartment.

“Afternoon, Ms. Bianchi.” The doorman nodded at me.

“Hey, Ray. How are you?”

“Bald, fat, and underpaid, but I can’t complain.” He smiled. “Mail just arrived. You have an envelope that didn’t fit in your box. I’ll grab it for you.”

Ray handed me a thick manila envelope, which made me think about my last day in court with Mrs. Whittaker. Cassie told me the case had been reassigned to Sierra, which I was happy to hear, since it had turned into a complete shit show.

Upstairs, I took a shower, made a smoothie, and sat down to go through today’s mail. The last time I hadn’t had at least two or three weeks of mail piled up was probably before I’d started law school. Most of today’s stuff was junk—a bill from the cable company that was already on autopay, a glossy real estate postcard telling me an apartment in my building had been sold for $1.5 million, and I should call this number to sell mine while the market was hot, a preapproved credit card offer that I opened before I realized it was addressed to my ex, who’d lived here with me for a short time. And last but not least, was the thick envelope. Fanelli, Otoni, and Armonk, it read. I wasn’t familiar with the firm, but I assumed it had something to do with my separation from work since HR had emailed yesterday to let me know they’d sent some papers for me to sign.

I sighed and opened it.

Dear Ms. Bianchi,

This office represents the estate of Sophia Bianchi of Montepulciano, Italy, who died earlier this year on January 2nd.

My heart squeezed—my late grandmother. Though I couldn’t imagine what estate they were representing. My nonna didn’t own much, just her antique store in Tuscany, which I’d assumed she’d left to her sister. But I continued…

A legally valid will has been located and filed with Italian authorities. In the document, you were named as the sole beneficiary of the estate, which contains real property located in the province of Sienna, Italy, as well as certain personal property. Attached is a copy for your reference, along with a certified English translation for your convenience.

Please be advised that the will contains specific conditions that are attached to the inheritance. These are outlined in the will itself, as well as in a personal letter that was annexed and is addressed to you.

We recommend reviewing the letter, which may influence how and when your inheritance will be accessed, and contacting us after. We are here to guide you through the legal process at your earliest convenience and look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

Antonio Fanelli

Curious, I rifled through the papers until I found the personal letter. Unlike the attorney’s typewritten letter, this one was on lined paper, covered in my grandmother’s distinctive, graceful handwriting. I did my best to translate, as she’d written in Italian.

My Dearest Allegra,

If you’re reading this, it means I’ve finally kicked the bucket. About time, huh? Eighty-four at this writing, and it’s not looking like I’m going to make too many more birthdays. I’ve been flirting with the Grim Reaper for some time now. Don’t judge. There’s no one else my age alive anymore who will flirt back.

I laughed, and tears formed in my eyes. I’d only read the first paragraph, yet I felt like my nonna was with me again. She was such a big, unique personality. I took a deep breath and scanned the page to find my place again.