Page 27 of Highball and Chain

Shanna

The sea breezesoftened the afternoon heat. Unlike the hazy early summer sky in New Orleans, the heavens over Sicily remained a consistent deep blue. And Donnafugata Castle… My God. The images I’d seen on the internet didn’t do it justice.

Like the villa, the pale stone walls reflected the sunlight and chased away the shadows. For the first time since my plane had touched down, I felt at ease.

Dahlia threw her arm around my shoulders. “We’re going to the stone maze. Do you want to come?”

“You guys go ahead. I’m going to wander around and get some more pictures.”

Marco had remained by my side, and uncharacteristically quiet, since leaving the villa. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

Dahlia glanced between us. “Okay, I’ll call when we’re on our way back.”

Leo motioned to me. “Stay in the tourist areas with Marco. Don’t wander the property alone.”

“Will do.”

Marco watched them go before turning to me. “What are you thinking?”

“Honestly? That I’d give my left arm for someone to look at me the way Leo looks at her.” I could imagine them happily married. They were perfect for each other.

“You realize Enzo gazes at you like you’re the Mona Lisa.”

His words hit me in the solar plexus.

“And I’ve seen you stare at him the same way.” He shrugged.

I grinned, not because I found any of this amusing, but because I needed to get off the topic before I did something humiliating like cry. “Your brother’s a jackass.”

“Agreed, but that only makes him sexier, no?”

I laughed and lied through my teeth. “No.”

We wandered along the walkways in silence. Me stealing photos of everything and nothing in particular, and him scanning the area as if waiting for an armed gunman to leap around the next corner.

I couldn’t ignore the topic another minute. “How much danger are we in? And don’t treat me like I’m stupid. I know someone fired a gun near Enzo and me yesterday.”

“It’s hard to say. Believe it or not, this sort of thing doesn’t happen here.”

“You say it like people in Ragusa don’t own weapons.”

His spine stiffened. “Violent crime is far rarer here than in the States.”

“I’ve seen plenty of mafia movies that say differently.” I’d meant it as a joke, but his expression told me I’d insulted him. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You didn’t.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away.

I rested my arms on the balcony railing and soaked in the history. The baroque carvings of angels and gargoyles intrigued me. From a distance, they looked beautiful, but up close, their bulging eyes and toothy grins took on a sinister quality. They reminded me of the elder Marchionnis.

“Shanna.” Enzo stood on the lawn and waved his arms over his head. “Stay there. I will be right up.”

“Great.” I debated going inside the building and hiding.

Marco leaned close. “Remember, bella. You’re the Mona Lisa.”

“And he’s a jackass.” I elbowed his ribs.

“Sounds like a match made in heaven.” Marco winked. “On that note, I’ll go find Leo and Dahlia.”

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