Page 7 of Enzo DeLuca

Enzo nodded.

"Well, boss, can I leave now?"

"You will not speak to the don that way," Stefan told her, voice cold, detached.

"Don? I thought you said the guy I saved was the don."

"The guy you saved?" Enzo asked.

"Yes. I'm the one who pulled him from the car before it caught fire, and then I called 911. No, here, it’s 113. I called 113. I don't know when the man was shot. All I know is that a car was driving off when I turned onto that street. I took down the license number and helped the old man from the car. I went back to help the driver and realized he was already dead." Her voice dropped. "I'm sorry I couldn't save him too."

"You didn't save anyone," Enzo told her and realized that, like Stefan's voice, his had turned cold.

"What do you mean? I called the police. When we made it to the hospital, Mr. Don was still alive. When I talked to the police in the lobby, he was still alive. What happened between when I saw him last and when I was brought here? And why was I brought here? I went to the restroom, and someone stuck a needle in my arm. When I woke up, I was in a warehouse. Now, I’m here. Where is this place? Why won't anyone tell me anything? How long have I been here?"

Enzo strode closer to the bed. "The man youthoughtyou saved was my grandfather. He was the don of the DeLuca famiglia. He died two days after he arrived at the hospital. We buried him today."

Tears welled in her eyes. Was she faking, or were they real? He was tired of playing that game. Yet, seeing the tears in her eyes made him feel strange. He blamed it on fatigue. Unable to help himself, he lifted his hand and wiped a tear from her cheek. She jerked her head away from him. Enzo stared down at his finger, wondering why he’d done that.

Clearing his throat, he asked, "Why would you cry for a man you don't know?"

"I don't have to know him. He was a human. Why wouldn't I cry for him?" She sniffed. More tears fell. For some reason, they angered him. Her watery gaze met his. "I'm sorry for your loss. No one deserves...."

"Silence," he ordered. Her lips snapped shut. "I don't need your tears, and I damn sure don't need your empathy." Her eyes widened in fear. "All I need are your memories."

"I've told you everything I remember."

"What were you doing on that road that night?"

"Like I toldTall and Silentbehind you, I'm vacationing. I arrived in Italy two days before the car accident. I wanted a picture of the full moon over the cathedral. I went there to take photos."

His grandfather had gone to the cathedral to meet a friend. Only a select few had known about that meeting. According to the two guards who'd trailed the don that day, on the way home from the cathedral, they'd gotten a flat tire and lost sight of the don. They’d tried calling the don’s driver.

The call was never answered. They’d called backup, but by the time backup arrived, the don was already in the hospital. That flat tire was another clue Enzo was investigating. And the guards who’d lost sight of the don were being interrogated. The don had died on their watch. Enzo would never forgive them.

"What did my grandfather say to you after you saved him?" Enzo asked his only witness.

“He was out most of the time,” she replied. “When he did wake up, he whispered some words I couldn’t make out. I’ve already told your friend this.”

“What did he whisper?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t understand him.”

“Try to remember.”

“I do remember. I remember that I didn’t understand what he was saying. Look, I may not have saved him, and I apologize for your loss, but I haven’t done anything wrong. Why am I being kept against my will?”

“You may not believe it, but this is the safest place for you.”

“Thank you for your concern. But I’d rather go home.”

“Where’s home? You’re not from Italy.”

“America.”

“How long do you plan to be in Italy?”

“I don’t see how that is any of your...”

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