Page 41 of The Man with a Treasure

“Thank you! That would be lovely.” She pointed to me from over her shoulder. “Look. My Dark Angel of the Night swooped down to visit me.”

Peering down, I studied my black suit and how I was squatted, perched on my fancy shoes. My hands were gripping nearby branches to keep me sturdy.

I had no wings, yet Mrs. Rossi, Noemi, and Isabella kept claiming I did.

The next day, I went to Isabella’s bedroom when she postponed meeting with me until the following day. She told Mrs. Rossi it was because it was too cold, but I feared she was embarrassed by the night prior. When I knocked on her closed bedroom door, I jolted as she screamed, “No more visitors for the day!”

Isabella was in no frame of mind for me to be inquiring about details of her nightmare. “I apologize. Maybe we can speak tomorrow.” In my work boots that I had missed, I turned to walk away.

“Angel?”

I stopped. “Yes?”

“Are you alone?”

I observed the hallway. “Yes.”

“You can come in.”

Entering, and seeing her sitting on the floor, leaning against her bed, I quickly shut the door behind me.

She covered her mouth. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I thought you were another brother.”

I shook my head, wondering how a brother had provoked her to be so upset.

“Is it true?” she asked me. “Was I playing out being raped on the balcony?”

Feeling a bit queasy at the memory, I sat on the floor and leaned against the door. Her question had me realizing she didn’t remember waking on her balcony. “Playing out?” I winced. “That is quite harsh. I believe you were lost in a nightmare.”

She nodded. “I was there again, Angel.” She grimaced. “It was starting all over again.”

I was right. She had dreamt of the very beginning of her cruel ordeal. “I would be grateful if you told me about it.”

Her eyes closed in a stressed fashion. Her head leaned back against the bed as if wanting to pull away from what she was seeing. “It was where I would deliver Scarlett.” Hands wrung in her lap. “Mountains. Snow at my bare feet.”

She had been taken during the winter in Italy, so this was telling me Australia and that hemisphere, where Isabella had been found, was not where Scarlett was.

“Rope hung from a tree.” With her eyes still slammed shut, she shook her head. “Eyes in dog houses.”

What?

Her shoulders folded as she held herself. “My wrists were bound.” She whispered an agony I hoped to never know, “Naked… Men all around me.” I was about to ask what language they spoke, but she said, “So many accents. Irish…” Her head leaned back again, her feet rubbing over each other as if wishing to keep her legs closed. “…Scottish. Austrian. Italian…”

Mr. Giordano had, of course, gained enemies over the decades his family was in business. Now learning of the older brothers, I could only imagine how far that enemy span reached. But why was Ireland constantly popping up? What was the connection there? And why would so many different nationalities gather at once?

She cried, “Motorcycles. They were so loud.”

My head almost slammed into the closed door behind me. Oh my God.

Isabella’s youngest brother, Mateo, had a soon-to-be-bride that was the daughter of a very rich jeweler. The father was flying in to inspect where his daughter would soon be living. Highly aware of the Giordanos’ reputation, he, rightfully so, was concerned for her safety. That is why Mr. Giordano’s head of security was also being flown in. My father.

This all made sense to me, but I still detected a lie. Father wasn’t even partially excited over the news of the motorcycles. He always sounded incredibly tired. I asked Mr. Rossi if something was wrong, but he assured me all was well. That made me concerned for Scarlett. Maybe they knew something but didn’t want to tell me, knowing I had such high hopes for the child’s rescue. So, I turned to Mrs. Rossi.

She was cooking in our little kitchen when I approached. Not even looking from her cast iron pan, she teased, “Oh my Angel, why is your heart so heavy?”

“Is she dead?”

Her head snapped to see me. “Who?”