“I know. We saw the blood.”
Oh, my God. No wonder why Emma looked upset. “Are you okay?” I asked her, studying her face carefully.
Instead of answering, she said, “I need to talk to you. Alone.”
“Gia, go away,” I said. “I’ll deal with you in a minute.”
“Okay.” Gia closed in to kiss my cheek. “Sorry, Frankie, I couldn’t resist. There aren't any dungeons in Toronto, that’s for sure. At least none that I know of.”
I wasn’t swayed. Gia was definitely of the “act first, apologize later” variety, but she knew better. “That still doesn’t make it right.”
We waited for Gia to leave, then Emma put her hands on my shoulders. “You have to do something.”
“About what?”
“That man down there.”
I blinked at her. “Excuse me?”
She stepped away and began pacing. “He’s . . . really bad off, Frankie. I can’t believe he’s still alive. There’s blood everywhere. Sharp instruments and chains. Medical equipment. It’s like the movie Saw, but in real life.”
Was she kidding me right now? Was I seriously supposed to pity Enzo? “Emma, that is a bad man. I told you what he did to me. I have absolutely no sympathy for him whatsoever.”
“Come on. Don’t be like that. You aren’t one of these mafia types. You know what’s happening down there is wrong.”
Did I? I hadn’t lost a wink of sleep over Enzo’s fate since arriving back at the castello. I was more than content to let Fausto handle it as he saw fit. “Enzo’s a murderer, too, babe. Who knows what might have happened if Fausto didn’t rescue me? Enzo probably would have killed me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Oh, sure. He would’ve just let me walk out the door in Naples. Think, Emma. If this man goes free, I’m at risk. Fausto is at risk. Giulio, Zia, everything and everyone here is at risk.”
Emma crossed her arms and hunched her shoulders. “Can’t they, like, negotiate a peace treaty or something?”
I wasn’t sure Enzo deserved peace of any kind.
I gentled my voice. “Remember how I said things were different here? This isn’t the United Nations. These men are brutal killers. It’s very old school.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I know. I just . . . I can’t stay here knowing that man is going to be killed at any moment.”
“Then why did you go down there? You knew what you were going to see.”
“Because I had to know. I’m telling you, I can’t celebrate your engagement and have a nice vacation here when a man is murdered right under my nose.”
I rubbed my forehead, the beginnings of a headache settling in my temples. “Emma, you’re being a pain in the ass.”
Her eyes went glassy and tears pooled. Oh, crap. I made her cry.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out as I dragged her into a hug. “Just send me home.”
“I’m not sending you home. You just got here.”
“But I can’t stay, Frankie. I can’t stay if they are going to kill him while I’m here.”
“What if . . . ?” I swallowed hard. “What if I could get them to hold off on dealing with Enzo until after you leave?” Fausto would need to agree, but I could convince him. Hopefully.
“Oh, please, Frankie. Please, talk to Fausto.”
“I’ll talk to him, okay? But I can’t make any promises.”