Harbinger Of Glory

The Fiorella Foundation, named after the D’Averna household’s only daughter, Vittoria, was a private, family-hosted charitable event traditionally held on the eve of New Year’s.

For generations, the D’Avernas had used the occasion to draw together the people within their wider social circle.

Other old families, business figures, longstanding family acquaintances, patrons, and people from the worlds of art, fashion and culture would make their way to whichever residence was hosting that year’s gathering.

It was not a public gala, and the foundation itself was not some enormous organisation with offices scattered across Italy.

At its heart, it was a family effort, supported by the network the D’Avernas had built over generations.

The purpose, however, extended well beyond the family.

The evenings, when well spent, usually raised money for children’s welfare, education and healthcare, with a portion of the foundation’s work also directed towards communities outside Italy where assistance was needed most.

Donations were collected throughout the evening, while a handful of auctions and private pledges provided some of the larger contributions.

The event had gradually become one of those gatherings that people expected to see on their calendars.

Not because attendance was mandatory but because it was difficult to say no.

And, as Leo had discovered while reading through the information on his phone, the D’Avernas appeared to have accumulated an impressive number of people to whom that rule applied.

”Old money.”

The words left his mouth with a slight chuckle he couldn’t help.

Leo sat in the back of a black Mercedes-Maybach S-Class, one arm resting against the door as Milan passed quietly beyond the tinted glass.

He glanced back down at his phone, scrolling once more through the page Noah had sent him earlier.

He’d already read most of it and was simply reading it again.

Perhaps because he still wasn’t entirely sure what he had gotten himself into.

The car turned away from the busier roads and onto a quieter stretch lined with old trees, the last of the evening light catching between their branches.

Eventually, a pair of wrought-iron gates appeared ahead, flanked by low stone walls and discreet security and at that, the Maybach slowed.

Beyond the gates, a long gravel drive curved through the grounds before the residence finally came into view.

Leo lifted his eyes from his phone and nodded.

”Okay.”

He leaned slightly towards the window, and it was right there.

The house sat at the end of the drive, large enough to make the word villa feel almost understated.

It had the proportions of an old country residence rather than a modern mansion, with pale stucco walls, tall shuttered windows and a broad central entrance reached by a series of shallow stone steps.

The exterior had clearly been restored rather than newly built, perhaps to keep the old family’s style alive.

The stonework had been cleaned without losing its age.

The wooden shutters looked freshly maintained, and just beyond them, Ivy climbed portions of the outer walls, carefully trimmed around the windows.

At the same time, several mature cypress trees stood along the approach as though they had been there long before anyone currently living in the house had been born.

Even from inside the car, Leo could see the amount of work that had gone into preserving the place.

As the car moved by, a small stone plaque beside the entrance bore the name.

VILLA D’AVERNA

Leo stared at it for a moment and then nodded.

The residence had been restored only recently, after Vittoria’s father had bought it back several years earlier.

The property had once belonged to the family before slipping out of their hands, and apparently bringing it back was important enough to justify the considerable work required to restore it properly.

Leo looked around again and smiled to himself before looking back at his phone.

The Fiorella Foundation.

His thumb hovered over the screen for a moment before he locked the phone and placed it face down against his thigh.

Then, after a second thought, he picked it up again and switched it to silent.

Whatever happened tonight, he wasn’t going to spend the entire evening answering messages.

The Maybach continued up the drive.

Ahead, several cars were already parked around the front of the villa, ranging from understated sedans to the sort of expensive cars that did not need badges to announce what they were.

Staff moved between them with quiet efficiency, taking coats, directing arriving guests and keeping the flow of people moving without ever seeming rushed.

The car finally came to a smooth stop beneath the covered entrance where another vehicle was leaving.

The moment it stopped, a valet stepped forward and opened the rear door.

Leo slipped his phone into his pocket before stepping out.

He straightened his jacket, glanced towards the valet and gave him a small nod.

”Grazie.”

(Thank you.)

The valet returned the nod with a polite smile and dipped his head slightly.

Leo gave him the charming little smile he had learned to use whenever he wanted to be polite without making a whole thing of it, then turned towards the entrance of Villa D’Averna.

He stood still for a second, taking in the grandeur before he began making his way forward.

.....

Just beyond the gates of Villa D’Averna, Vittoria had settled into the role she had been given for the evening.

She stood near the entrance with a glass in one hand, greeting guests as they arrived, offering the same warm smile and familiar welcome to each person before directing them towards the house.

She knew most of them well enough to ask about their families, their journeys, or how the holidays had been, and those she didn’t know were usually introduced to her within seconds.

”Buonasera, è un piacere vederti.”

(Good evening, it’s lovely to see you.)

Another guest stepped through the gates.

”Felice anno nuovo.”

(Happy New Year.)

And another.

”Buonasera, benvenuto.”

By the time the latest car disappeared farther up the drive, a voice came from beside her.