Confessing his greatest sins to her, his character flaws—would she look at them that way? The Saldi myth that wasn’t all just a myth, and part of it could be a nightmare—was torture.
“I didn’t want Miceli, or any one of those sitting in the meetings, to ever have the chance to wipe out my entire family in order to take over my businesses, my territories or anything else I had because they coveted it or perceived me as weak,” he said. “I’m not weak. I wasn’t raised that way. I can do what’s necessary to protect my men and their families, and I can protect my own. But my woman … my children …”
He stopped and rolled away from her to look back up at the ceiling. He couldn’t face her when he felt so vulnerable. He was a grown man spilling his guts to her. Letting her see his darkest fears. Now he wished he hadn’t insisted on the night-light being on, even so dim. He’d just had his cock in her, hard as a fucking rock, and now he was talking about what scared him the most.
“I wasn’t going to take a chance that a car bomb was going to wipe out my wife. Or my kids. I knew firsthand what that felt like.”
He would never forget the moment when Giuseppi and Miceli had come to him to tell him his parents were dead. The sorrow on Giuseppi’s face, the compassion for him. The sly cunning in his uncle Miceli that only a child would see that would forever make Val leery of him. There had been a kind of triumph, almost a glee in his eyes that Miceli hadn’t been able to hide. Val had suspected him of having the car bomb planted, but at his age, there was no way of proving it. When Dario had come to live with him, the two of them had worked to uncover evidence, but it had never been enough to take to Giuseppi, just enough to convince both of them that Miceli had devised a plot to murder his own brother and sister-in-law.
“I watched Giuseppi worry every day about my safety and Greta’s. And then there was Dario—what he went through. But there was that absolutely ridiculous fairy tale of a story I’d heard, first from my birth father and then from Giuseppi.”
Unerringly, he found her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. Her hand always seemed so small and delicate in comparison, but she was strong and she was lethal. He knew she could kill with those hands. If anyone could help him keep his family safe, it was Emme.
“I even talked to Dario about the stupid myth. We laughed about it. Then I went to that party and there was the most beautiful girl I’d ever laid eyes on, sitting across the room in a corner, watching me. Women came on to me. I never had to go to them. I waited, but you didn’t come. Then I realized who you were. A Ferraro. The enemy. What the hell was a Ferraro doing at what was essentially a Saldi party? Worse, you clearly were underage. You were there surrounded by a pack of wolves. And believe me, honey, they were wolves. The thought of you with them scared the hell out of me, and I didn’t even know why.”
“You were definitely the hottest man I’d ever seen.”
“I’m still the hottest man you’ve ever seen. Don’t put that in the past tense.” He forced laughter into his voice when a part of him didn’t feel like laughing. She was with Elie Archambault all the time. The man was very good-looking. When he was in France, he’d been featured in dozens of magazines as an eligible bachelor with money and the world’s most beautiful models on his arm. Val brought her hand to his mouth and bit down on her fingers.
“I stand corrected. You are the hottest man I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t stop staring at you that night. I knew I shouldn’t have been there. My friend asked me to go, and then she wandered off and I was afraid to move. Everyone was way older than me, and I knew Stefano would lose his mind if he found out I was there.”
“When I went over to you and our shadows connected, that first sexual jolt was electrifying, even embarrassing. You were underage, and I was a grown man lusting after you. People were surrounding us, and I had no way to hide the fact that I was desperate for you. I didn’t even know you, and I’d never wanted a woman more. I looked up at the wall and just like in the mythical story I’d always laughed at, my shadow was binding your shadow to me as fast as it could.”
He would never forget that moment, either. That first time it actually registered that there might be hope. That he might have a chance at a life. That the bleak darkness already consuming him, swallowing him whole, might not get him after all. Because of her. That scared, beautiful teenage child of the enemy, looking up at him with the most devastatingly gorgeous blue eyes. He knew he wanted to look into those eyes forever.
Emmanuelle had turned her head slowly toward the wall. Toward their shadows. He wanted to stop her. He didn’t want her to see. He didn’t want anyone to see. She broke the light. Told him it was an accident, that she was clumsy, but he knew better. She’d been terrified when she saw those ropes wrapping around her shadow, trying to imprison her.
“I knew, when I saw our shadows together, that my life wasn’t going to be all blood and torture and ugliness if I could just have you. You were going to be my heart. My soul. There could be beauty in my life. Something worthwhile. A treasure to protect and fight for. So, no, for me, it wasn’t just about the best sex in the world. I needed to know I would be coming home at night to a woman who loved me the way I loved her.”
She softened him. She gave him back his humanity. He waded through the grime of Miceli, Angelo, Tommaso and so many others. He was no angel. He reeked of dirty crimes, but he drew lines. In his clubs, the women were protected. They did only as much as they wanted to do, and if they were touched when they didn’t want to be, the customer paid for it with blood. They were paid fair wages and were hired if they applied for the job. They weren’t coerced into working, or forced.
The women entertained in clean back rooms, and yes, some of them were into providing whatever customers liked, but again, they had panic buttons, and help would come the moment they asked for it. They were paid well and could leave at any time. They weren’t working off “debt,” and they certainly weren’t trafficked. The family had many other businesses, some legitimate, some not, and he paid close attention to all of them. Now all of those businesses were in his hands, not Giuseppi’s.
“You wanted to know what else the myth had to say. I had to research it. Most of the families quit telling their sons the story at all. Originally, it was told in Sicily so long ago that I believe over the years, shorter and shorter versions were made up. No one ever recorded seeing such an event actually happen. That doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened. Part of the mythology is you can’t tell anyone. If you find such a woman, you don’t tell any other family. She is your secret alone. You protect that secret with your life.”
“That makes sense if she’s spying on the other families for you.”
“It’s more than that. The hope is that you have children with her and your children can do what she can. In the shadows, the children and your wife can always escape if they are attacked. Even if you can’t enter with them, they’ll always be safe. If you can keep this secret and instill in your children the need for secrecy, their children and wives will always be safe as well. The horror of having your entire family murdered will never happen if you continue to be vigilant, but with the knowledge that they can escape.”