“I told him,” I say, glancing in his direction. “And all I know is that Gallo claims that she called him in a frenzy of some sort, and reported trouble in the castle.”
We step to the landing and find Giada and Marabella waiting for us at the top, Marabella’s blue dress covered by an apron, while Giada is in jeans, a sweater, and a jacket, with her purse cross-body style.
“Going somewhere?” Matteo asks her.
She glowers at him. “When a man is bleeding to death in yo
ur home, and the cartel is after him, it’s smart to be ready to run if necessary.”
“Necessary?” Marabella demands, her tone proving her kindly nature toward Giada is as tested as mine. “What’s necessary is that you respect this house and Kayden, which you did not, and do not, do.” She holds up a phone and looks to me and Matteo. “She won’t be making any more phone calls, but I can’t get her to go to her room.”
“I was trying to protect my brother,” Giada states, arguing her case, and looking to me as she adds, “You know I have to protect him.”
That’s it. She’s officially turned the pebble into a boulder, and I close the space between us, stepping toe-to-toe with her. “That man who was bleeding in your home is named Enzo, and I can still smell his blood and feel it on my skin.”
“Ella—”
“He’s barely started his life, and he, too, is mourning the loss of a father who just happened to be close to your father. And he now has less chance of surviving, because we had to move him too soon. And do you know why we had to move him? Because you let Gallo onto the property. Enzo could die because of you.”
Her chin lifts defiantly. “He could die because of The Underground.”
“If Enzo weren’t working for Kayden, he’d be working for someone else, who wouldn’t tell him to stay away from trouble.”
“He’s dying,” she hisses. “He didn’t stay away from trouble.”
“He disobeyed orders, and why is this your judgment? Why?”
“The Underground is why my father is dead.”
My mind flashes to me leaning over someone I can’t picture. Someone bloody and dead, and I’m crying and scared and certain I’m next. “You’re going to be the reason some of us are dead. If you keep bringing attention to me, you’ll be the reason I’m dead! I don’t need attention, Giada. Stop getting me attention. Just stop!”
“Ella. Ella, easy now.”
I blink at the sound of Matteo’s voice, becoming aware of him to my left and Marabella at my right.
“Ella,” Marabella repeats. “You’re okay.”
I blink again and realize I’m gripping Giada’s shoulders, and I’m not sure if I’m shaking or she is. “Ella,” she pleads, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Ella, I—”
“Need to go to your room, like Marabella said.”
I let her go, turning and starting down the stairs, my legs trembling with each step. Who was the man who was dead? Who was I afraid of? I try to replay the memory in my mind, to will the images to materialize, but they don’t. I am a blank space, and it’s infuriating. I want my memories back, and, ironically, I barely remember the walk to the foyer, or the moment I punch the button to raise the door again. But it’s lifting and I impatiently duck underneath again, making a beeline for the stairwell leading to the central tower, and hoping for good news about Enzo. I really need some good news right now.
three
I’m halfway to the landing when I’m suddenly in his bedroom, whoever he is, and I’m on my knees in front of a drawer, staring down at a gun. I blink and I’m on the landing, staring at the closed door to Adriel’s collectibles store, and it just plain freaks me out that I seem to be blacking out. What is wrong with me? Aside from a man nearly bleeding to death while I held his wound shut?
I turn left, the direction Kayden had indicated I’d find Enzo, and travel down the stone hallway, the many closed doors reminding me that this entire tower was shut for years for a very good reason. This is where Kayden’s fiancée and mentor were slaughtered. The very idea has me shoving my hands in the pockets of my hoodie, with the impossible hope of warming any part of me. I just pray that maybe, just maybe, this place can now be the tower where Enzo gets a second chance at life.
Finally I reach an open room, pausing a moment before entering to steel myself for whatever awaits me inside. Inhaling, I round the corner, finding a room one might expect to be a getaway at an inn, with crackling flames in the fireplace framed by a pair of narrow, rectangular windows, and a sleigh bed directly in front of me, sitting on a blue-and-gray rug. But any coziness it might hold is turned bitter and chilled by the sight of Enzo lying in the bed, an IV feeding a bag of blood into his arm and a beeping heart monitor sitting next to the headboard. He is pale and lifeless, and I have a bad feeling about how this is going to turn out.
“Ella.”
At the sound of my name, I look to the far left corner to find Nathan sitting in a large leather chair, his white button-down shirt stained with blood. His hands are scrubbed clean, telling me he’s done what he can for Enzo. I walk toward him and tentatively claim the ottoman in front of him. “How bad is it?”
“The next few hours are going to be touch and go.”
“Should he be in a hospital?”