Siena blinked at him. What was he saying? She’d always been a little afraid of him. He was the coldest man she knew. Her grandfather often whispered to him in an aside and he’d be gone for two or three weeks and then come back. Her grandfather would seem very pleased for weeks afterward. After the kidnapping, Alonzo had watched over her more than any other of her grandfather’s trusted inner circle.

Still, she was almost certain he had plotted with Paolo to murder Antonio. She tried to remember why she thought that. He’d fired his weapon, but could he have been firing at a shadow Paolo had pointed out? She honestly didn’t know, but she didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust anyone. Not even Drake entirely. She sighed.

“Siena?” Alonzo prompted.

She shook her head. “No. I’m just trying to recover.”

Alonzo turned to Elijah. “I’d like to be kept in the loop about Siena’s progress. If she needs anything, let me know. Siena has my number.” He waited, still, unmoving, his eyes focused on Elijah.

Elijah nodded slowly.

Alonzo switched his attention to Drake. “If you need help with her security, call me. I’ll come myself.”

A delicate tremor slid through Siena’s body. She knew Elijah felt it because he shifted closer, drawing Alonzo’s attention so that he missed her reaction. She was more confused than ever. Paolo at least reacted humanly to situations. Alonzo rarely showed emotion. More, it was Alonzo who carried out the discipline of anyone in her grandfather’s employ who failed in his duties. Often that meant a physical retribution, and more than once she’d seen Alonzo dispassionately tear someone apart. He hadn’t even broken a sweat and looked almost bored while he did so.

“Siena is tired,” Elijah announced. “I think you got what you came for,” he added to the detectives. “I think you can assure the lawyers and anyone else who is interested that Siena is recovering.”

Madison nodded. “Ma’am, I appreciate you taking the time to see us. Are you certain you don’t want to swear out a complaint against the man who beat you?”

Siena winced. The detective had slipped the question in so casually. She felt Alonzo’s focused, unblinking stare, but she kept her gaze on her hands. More precisely, on Elijah’s hands. He had strong fingers. Callused. A workingman’s hands. Not at all what she expected from the head of a crime family. She closed her eyes, remembering the feeling of his hands on her skin. His fingers moving in her. His viselike grip when he threw her out. Around her, she heard the others leave the room, but she kept her gaze fixed on Elijah’s hands.