Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 148612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 743(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 743(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Ricco remembered everything. He would be able to draw an exact duplicate of what he had seen on the wall, even though it was gone. There were so many ropes, so many knots. All different, all various sizes and shapes. All tangled together. And now, so many sinking into her shadow, and how could she tell them, into her body?
Ricco’s eyes met hers. He gave a small shake of his head to indicate to her to stay silent. He didn’t want to speak yet in front of Valentino and Dario.
“You trapped Emmanuelle’s shadow, Val,” Stefano said, moving back across the room to take one of the very comfortable chairs facing the bed. “Why?”
Val frowned when Emme tried to pull away from him. “Sit up here with me while we talk this out, Princess.”
She wanted to go to one of the guest rooms and inspect the damage done to her body, and then just lie down on a bed and go to sleep. On the other hand, Stefano wasn’t going to take half answers from Val, the way she had. He would want to know the entire story.
“You’ll have to let go of my hand so I can go around the bed.”
He studied her face for a full thirty seconds, clearly weighing whether or not he could trust her. Finally, after rubbing the back of her hand one more time with his thumb, sending a little dart of fire down her spine, he let her go.
Emmanuelle reached up and took out her tightly woven braid to help relieve the headache pounding at her temples as she made her way around the four-poster bed to the opposite side so she could get on the comforter. The Ferraro Hotel had spared no expense. Every blanket, every sheet and certainly the comforter and mattress were luxury at its best. The moment her body sank down onto the bed, it felt like heaven.
She thought about staying as far from Valentino as possible, but it seemed childish, and she knew he would never stand for it. She scooted close to him without touching him. Val simply reached over, wrapped his arm around her waist and dragged her up against him. As always, his skin was hot and warmed her instantly. She didn’t fight him. She leaned into him, absorbing his heat and resting her head on his chest.
“Emmanuelle told us the short version of the fairy-tale story Giuseppi gave to you about shadows and what to look for. I want the entire story. The version you gave Emme makes little sense. Tell me everything,” Stefano demanded. His voice was back to his usual low-key tone, the one that said no one ever crossed him, so just give him what he wanted.
Val sent him a little half smile, wrapping a thick strand of Emme’s hair around his fist. “Give me a very good reason why I should do that.”
Stefano nodded. “Because Miceli got a small taste of what it is like to be enemies with my famiglia. You have placed my sister in an untenable position. We are either your allies or your enemies. If we are your enemies, what Miceli saw is nothing in comparison to what will rain down on you and your organization, Valentino.” Again, Stefano’s tone was extremely mild. He could have been talking about the weather. “So you choose. Are we allies or enemies?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
I think he’s making me an offer I can’t refuse, Dario,” Valentino said, a faint smile on his face. It didn’t reach his eyes. He studied Emmanuelle’s brother through half-closed eyes. He’d always known this day would come.
He wasn’t giving Emme up. He knew he’d lost her trust and he had to earn that back. He’d loved her almost since the day he’d laid eyes on her, when it was forbidden and made him feel like scum. He’d done his best to protect her back then, at least until she was old enough, and then he’d just stopped pretending he was a good man. He wasn’t. He never would be. He’d do his best to try, but in the end, he was heir to the Saldi territory, and if he didn’t take it and hold on to it, Miceli or one of his sons would take it and the underbelly of Chicago would get far uglier than it already was.
Giuseppi had always provided a balance in that world. He ran things with an iron fist. No one ever fucked with him because if they did, he hit them hard and fast. He demanded loyalty, but in return, he gave it back. He was fair. He didn’t ask for more than anyone could give. If someone was injured in his employ, even low-level soldiers, he paid for their care and their funerals, and he saw to their families. On the other hand, no one lied to him. No one cheated him. No one ever betrayed him.