“Listen, I was told that one man did lose control of himself briefly but there was no sex—”

“But—”

“I understand this is shocking to you, all of this, but there was so little chance she was your daughter—”

“That is no excuse. Perhaps it is better if she was killed rather than be shamed like this. I gave my handshake, but perhaps I have to take it back.”

Buda looked Burim in the eye. Was he serious or was he just shaking him down for more money? Ten minutes ago the guy didn’t even know he had a daughter, and now he was concerned about her honor? Some of these guys really were peasants.

“I will punish the men, you can be assured of that.”

Burim shook his head and pulled back his jacket, exposing his shoulder holster.

“It can only be put right if I get to do the punishing. Do you want me to call Berti?”

“No, of course not. The reason I called you was to avoid this kind of situation. A killing will only lead to more killing—that is always the way. Punishment, yes. Killing, no. I will apologize to her myself.”

“I doubt she is going to accept any apology. That’s how I knew it was her, she has the same temper as her mother.”

“Listen, I will apologize. I will pay money to her and to you, money I will take from the three men in there. But I will not have a blood feud over this. It shouldn’t have happened. I regret the situation. Ultimately, I am to blame. But I need you, Burim, to live up to your handshake and for her to give up her investigation.”

Burim paused to think. Buda wouldn’t allow a man from another crew to punish his own men. A blood feud was in no one’s best interests, and he didn’t want to be the cause of a dispute between Aleksander Buda and Berti Ristani.

“Okay. Let me talk to her.”

Burim went back to the bedroom. Pia knew she had to accept Burim’s help, however distasteful it was to her. Now she wanted more than anything to get out of there, to go and find George. Burim closed the door and relayed what Buda had said. Would she be willing to forgo the revenge she was entitled to? Pia knew justice was being twice denied—she was being prevented from implicating Rothman’s killers and also from seeing some street retribution brought down on the person who attacked her.

“If that’s the way it has to be, I want to talk to those men outside,” Pia said.

“Okay,” Burim said. “But I want to shake on our agreement: an Albanian shake.”

Burim thrust out his hand. Pia eyed it. She didn’t care. She shook hands, and her skin crawled when she touched his.