Andriette walked solemnly across the dark courtyard, crumbling statues of half-nude young women were being grown over by the twisting vines of once cared for gardens. The florentine wore a long red silk robe, and a pair of ribboned, black stilletos, the soft clicks of the heels muffled by the overgrowth that covered the floor in a green carpet.

This had been her home once, she'd played in these gardens, climbed on these statues, this had been her heaven, her place of innocence. Until Nic had come along, but he was gone now, out of her life, there were other things to occupy him now.

She moved towards the family tomb, out the gate at the bottom of the hill if front of the villa, she'd even get to stay with her mother here.