“Don Miguel was always a threat to him. It was no secret he wanted to expand his business, and your grandfather refused to allow it. Carlo Bianchi had formed an alliance with Don Miguel, mostly because Carlo had grown weak and Don Miguel was eating away at the edges of his territory. By cementing his relationship with Don Miguel, Carlo could keep his territory together. Or so he thought.”

“So it was all about power plays. They weren’t really friends at all, after what? Fifty years? Sixty? For money?”

“Mostly for power,” Elijah said. He slid the grilled cheese sandwich onto a plate, added a few chips and took it to the table. “Come eat, sweetheart.”

“Why would my grandfather use me to deliver the wine?” She uncurled her legs and seated herself at the kitchen table. She’d seen the long, gleaming oak table with inlaid wood as they’d passed the formal dining room. This was much smaller, but no less beautiful. She ran her hand over the glossy surface before she slipped into the wide, padded chair.

Elijah sighed. Went silent.

Her gaze jumped to his face. “Elijah?”

“How much do you remember about the second kidnapping attempt?”

She swallowed hard. Shook her head. “Not much. I remember more about the first one. The second one I think I went into shock. They stabbed a needle in my arm, and everything was fuzzy after that. Not much,” she repeated lamely, because she really didn’t and it bothered her a lot.

“Don Miguel was always suspected of that attempt on you by most of the bosses.”

Siena gasped and went still. She’d known Don Miguel all of her life. He had been friends with her grandfather. Close friends.

“He convinced your grandfather that it wasn’t him. Truthfully, your grandfather, being leopard, would hear a lie. So if Don Miguel was guilty, and I’m fairly certain he was, your grandfather would have known. It would be very like Antonio to want revenge on Don Miguel—and no one else would ever suspect you of distracting someone while a hit man entered their home. Because you truly were innocent, you wouldn’t give off anything that would tell the mark he was in danger. Antonio would like that. You delivering his reserve while Marco enters the house. What a sweet revenge.”

“That’s awful.” But she could see Antonio waiting patiently for years for her to grow up. He would do that. He liked his petty revenge on anyone he thought had slighted him. It would be just like him.

“The other very real reason is if you were part of the murder, he could force you to do what he wanted because you would be tainted. Your grandfather liked to control everything and everyone in his world.”