“How the hell can I guarantee that? I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t trying to save them,” Enzo snapped. “I think you lost a little too much blood yourself.”
Emme swallowed down her fear for Valentino. “Dario? You believe Miceli knows about the lake house, don’t you? You really think he’s going to come for Giuseppi, Valentino and you, with an army.”
Dario looked up at her, his dark eyes moving over her face. “Yeah, Emme. Miceli’s going to come. When he does, it won’t be pretty. He hates all three of us. You have no idea the kind of hatred someone like that can have. What he’s capable of and what he’s taught his sons to be. I don’t want them to get their hands on you. Valentino has gone to great lengths to ensure they don’t.”
She frowned. “What does that mean? When did Miceli ever try to get me?”
Dario shook his head. “I’m tired, Emme. I’m fucking tired. Go find out how Val is and send me an update. I’m going to lie down for a few minutes. Enzo, keep me in the loop.”
“You got it.”
“When he comes, Enzo, he’ll try to overrun the place. Boats, ground, maybe even air. He’ll strike hard.”
“We’ll be ready.”
What had she gotten her family into? This was Saldi family business, and now her entire family was involved, other than Francesca, Stefano’s wife, and his son, Crispino, who were safe in their penthouse at the prestigious Ferraro Hotel with Vittorio’s wife, Grace. Emme knew that Stefano would never have left without first securing his wife and child, as well as Grace, surrounding them with protection.
Her phone vibrated, and she yanked it out of her jeans pocket. Stefano. Her heart jumped. Clenched. If something had gone wrong with Val, he would have just said so, right? Without a word, she turned and hurried back to the master bedroom, anxiety making it difficult to breathe.
“Is he alive?” The question tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop it, revealing too much, but then what did it matter? She’d already asked Stefano to come, to put their lives on the line for the man who had betrayed her.
Emmanuelle hurried over to the bed. The doctors and nurses had cleaned up the surgical site. Valentino lay on fresh sheets, thanks, she was certain, to Mariko. Vittorio sat in a chair, legs sprawled out in front of him, an IV in his arm, fluids going into him, just as fluids were going into Val. Val looked pale, his dark hair emphasizing the unusual color, but thankfully, most of the blood had been washed off.
“Bullets didn’t hit anything vital,” Stefano reported. “I never saw anyone so lucky. He was mostly in danger from blood loss.”
“He was hit several times,” Emme whispered. Tears burned behind her eyes. She didn’t want anyone to know. Crying was weakness. He was her weakness. Valentino Saldi. Her failing.
Stefano curled his palm around the nape of her neck. “Vittorio gave him so much blood, he’s more Ferraro than Saldi now.”
“Dario says Miceli has an army and that they’ll come here, Stefano. I didn’t mean to involve our entire family in their war. He was dying, and I just called you. I always call you when things go to hell.” She turned her face up to his. “I’m sorry.” She loved Stefano with all her heart, but she loved Valentino with every breath in her body. “I couldn’t let him die.”
“I know, baby. I would have been very upset if you hadn’t called me. When things go wrong, that’s what you’re supposed to do. We rely on each other. We’re famiglia. That means something, Emmanuelle.”
He dropped a kiss on top of her head. “Valentino is a good man. I told you that before. I know things went south between you, and I don’t in any way approve a relationship just because of what kind of family he comes from, but I know he’s a good man. I have no problem helping Val, especially when he’s been working to take down a human trafficking ring and a high-priced auction.” He touched his phone, the mass text she’d sent when she’d gotten updates of any kind of news on why Miceli had attacked Giuseppi, Valentino and Dario.
She put her arms around her brother and laid her face against his chest, right over his heart. She needed comfort, and Stefano gave it to her without hesitation. He wrapped his arms around her immediately.
“Do you think that’s what Grace was almost caught up in?” She glanced over at Vittorio. He was clearly paying attention.
Vittorio frowned. “I’ve been thinking it. They were very specific that someone wanted Grace. Not just anyone, but Grace. Dario said that these auctions are young girls, and although Grace was a virgin, she wasn’t a teenager, and they had no way of knowing she was a virgin.”
“I thought you knew who wanted her, that Miceli owed him a debt,” Emme said.
Vittorio shook his head. “Stefano and I talked it over many times. That scenario didn’t make sense. No, someone else wanted her, and Miceli wasn’t going to own up that he was involved in any way.”
Alarms began to go off in Emmanuelle’s head. She pressed her lips together as if to hold back secrets. How many secrets could she hold back? And for what? She pulled herself out of Stefano’s arms and leaned over the bed to stare down into Valentino’s face. His eyes were closed. His lashes were as black as night and long, too long for a man to have. She’d always been envious of his lashes. Now they stood out starkly against his pale skin. He normally had the most beautiful dark complexion, as if he had a permanent tan. She loved his coloring.
“You’re awake.” She made it an accusation.
The lashes fluttered but didn’t lift. “Floating. Doc gave me something, but it’s wearing off.” His voice was tinny, faraway.
Good. Maybe he’d tell the truth for a change. “There was a reason you noticed me all those years ago, Val, the same reason Dario noticed Nicoletta and Miceli wanted Grace.”
Stefano stepped closer to her, one hand on her back for support, as if he knew she was guessing and whatever answer Valentino gave her was going to rip her apart even more. Vittorio sat up straighter in his chair.
Val’s lips, the ones that looked chapped and dry but had always been velvet soft and perfect and could kiss like heaven, pulled into a little half smile. “My girl. So smart. Love you so much, Emme.”
“Valentino. Why did you single me out?” She made it a demand. “Why was Dario looking at Nicoletta? What did Miceli want with Grace?”
His hand moved on the bed. Sliding. Seeking. She looked at it, trying not to respond. Hating that she wanted to touch him. That she needed to. She closed her eyes and then let herself feel his skin next to hers. The moment she did, she knew it was a mistake. There was no blood. No trauma to keep her head occupied. There was only Val and Emme. Before she could pull her fingers away, he turned his hand and captured hers with surprising strength. Never once did he lift his lashes.
“Val, I need an answer.”
“You already know the answer, Princess.”
It was another blow, a hard punch in the gut, even though she was expecting it. Now she knew what her sisters-in-law had to have felt like when they first learned they met certain “criteria” to be with Ferraros.
She tried again to pull her hand away, but he refused to relinquish his hold on her. “I saw the bindings tying our shadows together, but I don’t know how, or what it means, Val.” Deliberately, she spoke aloud, even if it came out a whisper, because if she didn’t she would never be able to tell Stefano and Vittorio why there were tears streaming down her face.