“I love Val the way you love Francesca, Stefano. The way all of you love the one person you’re married to. I’ve loved him for so long, and I don’t want anything to happen to him. I don’t think I could ever forgive any of you if you hurt him.” She had to get that out there. “I don’t even know if I’d be able to stop myself from retaliating.” That was the truth as well.
Her eyes were burning. Was she crying? Had she turned into a baby? That was the last thing she needed to be right now. She had to make her brothers understand. She might know she couldn’t be with Val, but she wouldn’t tolerate them killing him for what he’d done. There wasn’t anything different from what any of them had done when they found their women. She knew Stefano had deliberately tied Francesca to him using their shadows. She was fairly certain the others had done so as well.
“Emmanuelle.” Stefano handed her a crystal glass with an inch of amber liquid in it. “No one is going to hurt Val.”
She took a deep breath. She had to just say it. Tell them. “The Saldis have a story they hand down from father to son. They apparently have done so for generations. It’s some kind of requirement. I only found out this information today or I would have told you immediately. I had no idea. None.”
She paced across the room to stare out the long row of windows that overlooked the city. There were so many lights one couldn’t see stars. Below her, the lights of the city itself were dazzling. She pressed the crystal glass to her throbbing head.
“The story has to do with finding someone whose shadow throws out tubes. Like mine does. Like Grace’s. Like Nicoletta’s.”
She felt the stillness behind her. The sudden tension in the room. Her brothers were extremely intelligent, and it wasn’t that difficult to connect the dots. In fact, she’d just laid it out for them.
“I came home the night of the party when I was sixteen and I tried to tell you what happened, Stefano, but you were so angry that I’d snuck out, you couldn’t hear anything I said. I didn’t even know what I was saying. It sounded so stupid. Ropes tying up my shadow? Chains surrounding it? I felt ridiculous. After you yelled at me, I was more rebellious than ever. I just decided I’d had too much to drink and I imagined it.”
“Ropes binding your shadow?” Ricco asked.
He would be the one to make the inquiry. It was easier to face him than Stefano. Or Vittorio. She forced herself to look at Ricco. He was a genius with rope. With knots. He might be her savior. She nodded.
“I noticed my shadow on the wall, and as Valentino approached me, I felt this jolt of physical awareness. It was very hard. I’d never felt anything like that in my life. When I looked at my shadow, there were what looked like ropes swarming around it, binding it really fast from his shadow to mine. It terrified me. I broke the light.”
She took a sip of the amber liquid and felt the fiery smoothness slide down her throat. Scotch. “I didn’t know it at the time, and neither did he, but just the small number of ties bound us together and forged a connection. It was difficult to stay away from each other.”
“Are you certain he didn’t know the significance?” Giovanni asked.
“At the time he didn’t, at least that’s what he says, and I couldn’t detect a lie,” Emme said. “He was older than me and didn’t want to go near a teenager. I didn’t want to start a war between our families. He became an obsession. I couldn’t think of anything else. We met again accidentally, at least I think it was that way. I was so careful to keep my shadow out of reach of his. He was careful to keep a physical distance between us.”
She took another sip of the Scotch. “I wish I could say I continued to be as careful, but I didn’t. He never touched me, other than kissing me, until after I turned eighteen, but I didn’t guard my shadow the way I should have. We would be talking and laughing. I would be having such fun. Then that physical jolt would hit so hard. He would be kissing me, and I just wasn’t thinking the way I should have been.”
Ricco held up his hand, a small frown on his face. “I’m not clearly understanding, honey. Tell me exactly what happened to your shadow.”
“The more times mine was open to his, the more of the ropes his shadow was able to tie around mine until mine was held captive. Completely. Our shadows are merged together so tightly now, bound by these ropes. And they connect us on some kind of neurological level. I can feel him running along my nerve endings. He can feel me. If I’m sad. Happy. He knows if I’m with another man. That kind of thing. We can close off from each other. I did that, but it took me almost the entire two years I was away from him. I was still bound to him.”
“What do the ropes look like on your shadow?” Ricco asked.
“Very intricate knots. I know I can’t undo them. I don’t think they can be cut, not without killing both of us. I didn’t have enough time to ask him a lot of questions. He admitted to me he thought the story was a myth until it happened to us. He didn’t ask Giuseppi any questions because he didn’t want him to know about us. He was worried about the ramifications.”
“You might want to tell us what that means,” Stefano said.
His voice wasn’t as gentle as it had been earlier, and Emmanuelle shivered.
“Miceli was trying to give his men time to retreat, but he really did want to entice you to come to him. He knows you believe Val cheated on you. He knows Eloisa disrespects you. He gave it his best shot to bring you into his fold. He is well aware of this phenomenon with your shadow. He tried to have Grace kidnapped. And Dario was interested in Nicoletta, although to his credit, he backed off when Taviano told him he was engaged to her.” Stefano pinned her with his dark blue gaze. “It’s clear Miceli knows and wanted Grace, at least, because of her shadow. Why?”
“If a few ties are on the shadow, the shadow can be used as a spy, if her lover is close. If more, he can be farther away. If there are many and they are irrevocably tied together, then he can travel with her wherever she takes him.”
There was once again silence in the room. Tension. Her stomach knotted, fingers tightening on the glass until she was afraid the thick crystal might actually shatter.
“Emmanuelle, when did you find this out?” Stefano asked.
“Just before Miceli’s crew showed up. I was questioning Val. I knew I couldn’t be free of him, but didn’t know why. I know I love him, and it’s the real thing. A Ferraro thing. I wasn’t certain how it could be.”
“How imprisoned is your shadow?” Stefano asked.
She pressed the glass to her temple again. “It’s so weighted down I feel like I can’t breathe without him. In terms of what it takes to make that last part of the Saldi story fit, I don’t know how close I am to it, or if we’re already there. I suspect we’re very close, Stefano.”
“He had to have known,” Stefano condemned Val.
Emmanuelle nodded slowly. “Valentino did his research once he realized what was happening. He knew. Just like all of you, he decided he wanted me and he was going to keep me. He deliberately tied me to him, and I was so silly I just let him do it.” She wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t have blame in the situation—she did. She’d gone to Valentino of her own accord.