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“None of that makes any sense,” frowned Nash. “She didn’t want anything to do with her, didn’t even want to see her photo, and now she wants to throw her a grand ball?”

“We agree, brother. There’s something suspicious happening here, and we’re going to need to dig a little more. I can’t remember a time that we’ve struggled finding the information that we needed on someone,” said Ghost.

“It does feel odd,” said Nine. “Who do we know on that side of the pond that might be able to tell us about the families?”

“Not sure,” frowned Gaspar. “Torro’s uncle passed a few years ago. He might know someone.”

“Wait. We know someone. Our friends in Italy at the house we stayed at. They were terrific and seemed to know everyone,” said Ian.

“Let’s give them a call.”

Gathered around the screen, the men dialed the number and waited for a response.

“My friends!” yelled the young man on the screen.

“Enzo, how are you?” smiled Gaspar.

“I am very well, sir. Business is good, and I’m enjoying my life very much.”

“I’m very happy, Enzo. Listen, I hate to get down to business, but I need a favor.”

“Anything.”

“Can you tell me anything about the Cipriani and St. Martine families?” he asked.

“I think I should get my uncle for this.” He stepped away and, a few moments later, returned with his uncle. Gaspar asked him the question again, and Uncle Aldo nodded.

“You certainly pick strange friends,” frowned Aldo.

“They’re not really friends. The St. Martine baby that was kidnapped is a friend of ours.”

“Is? But she’s dead,” he frowned.

“I assure you, she is not.”

“It was all over the news when it happened. Rumors swirled that the Ciprianis had kidnapped the child and murdered her or sold her into a trafficking ring. It was terrible. At the news conferences, Mrs. St. Martine was inconsolable. Her husband seemed cold. Distant. He kept telling her to be quiet, to gather herself together or leave.”

“What a dick,” frowned Nine.

“Yes,” laughed Aldo, “I think you could consider him that. He had quite a reputation for philandering. Many women at a time, sprinkled with a few men. He was known to test his own drug products. Then, when all this happened, he suddenly had legitimate businesses.”

“Maybe the Ciprianis agreed to keep Jenna alive if he backed out of the business. Do something else but allow them to control the markets.”

“Perhaps,” nodded Aldo. “But Jacques St. Martine is not the kind of man to take orders from a man like Cipriani.”

“What about his wife?” asked Ghost.

“Ah, Lydia. A vicious viper of a woman who would rather kill a man than pay him what he was worth. She was the person feared in their relationship. Not him.”

“Wait, so she was the one doing business with the drug dealers?”

“Yes. She traveled all the time to Africa, South Africa, even Asia to find buyers, dealers, anything to make their business bigger. She wants to rule the world.”

“I see. But not Claudia St. Martine?” asked Ghost.

“She doesn’t want to rule that world,” said Aldo. “She wants to rule the world of fashion, chateaus, parties, and jewels. There was never enough for her. Never. Perhaps it was her way of getting back at Jacques.”

“The Ciprianis never had children, and the St. Martines only had the one daughter, correct?” asked Nine.

“That’s right. Rumors had it that Jacques had, what do you call them, SMZs.”

“SMZs?” frowned Ian. “Do you mean STDs? Sexually transmitted diseases?”

“Yes. Yes, that’s it. Rumor said he’d caught many things from his partners, possibly even HIV or AIDs. That was why they only had one child.”

“Damn,” muttered Ghost.

“What about the Ciprianis? Why no children?” asked Ian.

“Again, only rumors, but everyone assumed it was because she was too mean. She was selfish, gone all the time. I think she could not have children. Nothing to base that on, just a thought.”

“And Cipriani’s brother? What about him? They said he died in a plane crash carrying drugs. Accident or intentional?”

“I think in their world, nothing is accidental. Anthony Cipriani was very, very close to his brother. South Africa and Africa were dangerous places for drug dealers at that time.”

“Why would he send him then?” asked Ghost.

“He didn’t. Lydia did. They were caught on film arguing at the graveside of his brother. You couldn’t hear what was being said, but photos were taken and sold to the papers. Suddenly, the newspaper shut down, the photos were lost, and no one knew where they went.”

“Holy shit, what have we found ourselves in the middle of?” asked Gaspar.

“A mess, my friends. I would not trust either woman, but you know that. They have no one left in their families. Single women with no one. Widows.”

“That’s not true,” said Nine. “Genevieve is alive, and she’d like to meet her mother.”

Aldo nodded but pursed his lips.

“What do you want to say, Aldo?” asked Ian.

“Do you remember the stories of terrible mothers in fairytales?” The men nodded at him. “Keep those in mind as you meet these women.”