“Hello, I’m Violetta.” I used my fake name before Francesco could introduce us. “Nice to meet you.” My tongue burned at the words.
“You as well.” A photographer came up and held up his camera. “Photo?”
I wanted to protest, I wanted to smash my champagne flute and ram the jagged glass into his cold, black heart for killing my little brother, but instead I waited for him, his wife, and his son to gather around while a fake photo of happiness was snapped. I glanced at Oscar, who stepped in behind the photographer and snapped a photo for me. Who knew, I might just need it someday.
I pointed my camera at the dome of the church and snapped a few photos as we walked around the outside of it.
“It’s nice.” Ugo followed me.
“The temple took twenty-seven years to build, finishing up in 1545.” I motioned for him to follow me inside the Tempio di San Biagio.
“That’s a long time.”
“It was built by Antonio da Sangallo.” I snapped some more photos of the artwork on the wall, careful not to use a flash. “They say that two maidservants, Antilia and Camilla, and a peasant named Toto were passing in front of a fresco that depicted the Madonna and Child, and St. Francis saw the Virgin open and close her eyes.” I waited for a woman to leave, then I leaned way back to admire a particularly beautiful painting on the ceiling. “Lord bless the world, give health to bodies and comfort to hearts. Do not leave us at the mercy of the storm.”
“I know that…” He trailed off while he thought.
“It’s Pope Francis’s prayer.”
“How do you know this stuff?”
“It’s part of my job to dig, and I retain a lot of stuff, plus I find it fascinating.”
“Our ideas of fascinating are very different.” He laughed, and I forced a smile. “So, did you drag me here to look at this church or to escape what’s happening back at the house?” I lowered my camera and looked at the floor, hating that he could see right through me. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been waiting to spend some time with you for a while now. I feel a kind of sadness about you. You want to talk about it, maybe? You’ll feel better.”
“Doubtful.” I turned and snapped some more photos, needing something to do. Something caught my eye, and I zoomed in on the photo I had just taken.
What the hell!
When I locked eyes with him, he motioned for me to meet him outside. I pulled out my phone and held it up to Ugo.
“I need to take this. I’m going to step out for a moment.”
“Okay, I’ll be here.” He shrugged.
I tucked my camera back in its bag as I made my way outside. I looked about and spotted him. He had his back to me.
“Why does it feel like you’re following me?” The Finder turned, and by the way his face twisted, I knew I wasn’t going to like what he had to say.
“Because I needed to talk to you.”
“Well, here I am.”
“I heard your mother found you.” My mouth suddenly went dry. How in the world would he know that? “It’s my job to know these things.”
“No,” I shook my head at this sudden invasion of privacy, “it’s not.”
“Look,” he stepped closer, “I know you don’t know me, and I want to keep it that way, but the truth is you are caught up in a very dangerous game of tug of war. You can’t see the wolves that are circling you, pawing at the sidelines, waiting in the mist for their turn to pounce.” The skin around his eyes deepened. “You need to be very careful, Sienna. Your mother is a very dangerous woman, and the secrets she carries are not in your best interest.”
“Rather dramatically stated, don’t you think?” I was rattled by what he said but didn’t want to show it. “And how do you know all of this?” I tried to speak matter-of-factly, even as I felt a chill spread to my fingertips.
“Because it’s what I do.”
“Anything else?” I lifted my chin, trying to look confident while I absorbed what he was telling me.
“Yes.” He paused when Ugo called out my name. “You need to be careful with the Santoro brother.”
“Which one?”