Chapter 690

• Ria sat at the breakfast table at Pier’s home, Hila beside him. The house Piers had shifted into was large and airy, the sunlight falling onto the floor as they sat, sipping Arabian coffee, that had been ground, brewed and served, with cardamom, the way her brother and his wife seemed to enjoy it. The table also had an array of dried fruits, and candied nuts, possibly because the coffee was a little bitter, as Ria thought, sipping carefully. Piers looked lean and in control, his eyes glinting distantly behind his glasses, but his face remained a cold mask as Ria related what the Capo had found out.
• Hila sat beside him, breaking the rolls into bits, half-heartedly popping bits of avocado toast into her mouth, her eyes on the square patch of the garden visible through the window. Her hand snaked out for a handful of dried fruit and she leaned back in her chair, studying Ria as she listened.
• But clearly, her mind was elsewhere.