Siena pulled on her clothes as fast as she could with her ribs screaming at her. They hurt far more now than earlier and she knew shifting had somehow aggravated whatever damage Paolo had done. Quickly she moved the dresser and chair and hurried out of her room to the landing to lean down over the railing.

Men moved in the house, guns drawn, as if searching. She recognized Alonzo as he raced up the stairs. His eyes were moving around, searching every alcove before coming back to rest on her face. For the first time ever that she could remember, there was compassion in his gaze.

Her knees sagged. She gripped the bannister for strength. “Nonno?” She hadn’t kissed him when she left the room. She hadn’t told him she loved him. She did love him. He was her only relative. The only person in her life that cared about her. He’d done terrible things, but she loved him.

“Siena.” Alonzo said her name. And that told her everything.

She started down the stairs. He caught her arm, bringing her to a halt. “He was executed, sweetheart, and it isn’t pretty.”

She nodded, swallowed hard and inhaled the scent of gunpowder. It was on his clothes. All over him. She didn’t react, but moved away from him, down the stairs. She had to see for herself.

Paolo met her at the doorway to the sitting room, reaching for her. She evaded his hand, but she caught the scent of gunpowder again. It was much stronger and she knew. Siena raised her eyes to the man who had murdered her grandfather. Maybe both had. Alonzo and Paolo.

Paolo ignored her attempt to elude his grip. He caught her bicep in a strong grip and tugged her to him. “He’s dead, Siena,” he told her.

She knew that already without looking. Death smelled. Her leopard recognized the unique scent. She smelled the blood as well. She nodded and looked away from Paolo to the chair where her grandfather always sat. He was slumped back, blood pouring down the back of his head into the fine material of his chair.

“You can’t touch him, we’ve called the police.”

“I want to go to him.”

“It’s a crime scene, Siena,” he explained, as if she were a child. “You can’t touch him or anything around him.”

“What happened?” She already knew what happened. “I heard you arguing.”

He didn’t deny it. He nodded. “Yes. We argued.” His grip on her tightened. “Over you. What I did to you. It got heated. I was angry and I went to the kitchen to cool off. He wanted his nightcap, and Alonzo had come in to take over for me and he went to the bar to get it for Tonio. We heard the shot. Both of us ran, each from a different direction, to the sitting room.”