“She will continue to go after Emme,” Stefano said. “You heard her. If they don’t act fast, she might hire someone else. Or worse, try herself and force Emmanuelle into a situation where she has to kill her own mother in self-defense or let her mother murder her.”
Valentino sighed. “Really? Do you think I’m going to sit by and let this woman get away with trying to murder my wife? I’m not a shadow rider, and there’s no love lost between us. In fact, the things Emme has told me that her mother did to her when Emmanuelle was just a little girl make me want to strangle her with my bare hands. People think I’m a monster.”
He shook his head, trying to hang on to his temper, trying to remember that Eloisa was also Stefano’s mother. At some point he must have one or two good memories of her.
Elie leaned toward Valentino. “It’s precisely because Emmanuelle is your wife that you can’t be the one to do this, Val. I know you thought I was a threat to you, but Emme is like a sister to me. I love her dearly. What I do know is she loves you with every single breath she takes. The last thing she ever needs is to find out her husband killed her mother. It doesn’t matter if Eloisa deserved it. You can’t be the one.”
“She has to go now, before she contracts with another killer. The last one got too close.”
Elie nodded his agreement. “Eloisa committed a crime against a shadow rider. She has indicated she will continue on that same path. Both Stefano and I have sent reports to the council indicating time is of the essence. Neither of us wanted to come to that conclusion, but we had no choice. Emmanuelle has had too many terrible things in her life that she’s had to cope with. Don’t make this yet another one. Give her your life together, free of any of that. If you kill her mother, you and I both know it will eat away at her. This will be taken care of.”
It went against everything he was to have anyone else protect his wife—remove his wife’s would-be killer. He was that man. He would always be that man. But Stefano and Elie made sense. He knew Emmanuelle. If for one moment, she sensed he had something to do with her mother’s death and she asked him, he would have to tell the truth. That would always lie between them. Emmanuelle wouldn’t want to let it. She would understand, but it would still come between them.
Val rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I know you’re right. I just don’t want to take any chances with Emme’s life. I feel so damn bad for Henry.”
“He knew what he was signing up for,” Stefano said, pushing out of the chair. “All of us have tried with her, over and over. You have no idea the things she’s done and the chances she’s had. We’ll take care of Henry if he lets us.” He stepped into a shadow and was gone.
Elie stood as well. “Take good care of Emme, Val. I’ve put in for an arranged marriage. I got word from the council that I have a match. I won’t see my bride until the day of the wedding. She’ll be coming here to marry me. I don’t want to return to France. I hope Emmanuelle will become friends with my wife.”
Valentino lifted an eyebrow. “You did what? I read those bullshit papers Emme filled out. They were so detailed it was unbelievable. You could be blackmailed for the rest of your life if someone got ahold of those.”
“According to the council, no one is supposed to ever see them. It’s a new program. You answer the questions online. The program matches you, and then it is erased. Emme wasn’t supposed to print them out.”
“She’s such a perfectionist she didn’t want to make a mistake, so she printed the questions out and answered them. I think she changed her answers several times.” Valentino had to smile in spite of the fact that he’d been so angry when he’d realized that Emmanuelle was really contemplating allowing herself to be partnered with another man—one not him. “Go after the woman you know you’re supposed to be with, Elie.”
“She doesn’t want me, and I can’t blame her.” Elie shrugged and stepped into a shadow.
Valentino stared after him for a long time before walking into the house.
Dario met him inside. “How did it go?”
“They say the riders will take care of it. I’ll give them a couple of days. They don’t want me to be the one to do it.” Val shoved a hand through his hair and looked toward the kitchen. Emmanuelle had taken to trying out various recipes, and the house always smelled good. Today was going to be no different in spite of her mother’s visit.
“I’ll do it if it comes to that. They’re right: it shouldn’t be you.”
“Or you. You’re family to her as well. And stop being so fucking stubborn. You’re taking over Miceli’s territory. You have no choice, and you know it. We don’t want anyone else in that position.”
“I’m not some leader. I stay in the background.”
“Stay in the background, but you’re still going to have to take over. It’s done. I already told the others, so don’t whine. You just have to stand around and look tough. That shouldn’t be too hard for you.”
The two made their way into the kitchen. Valentino hid a smile when Dario went straight to the sink and washed his hands before picking up a knife to begin chopping the mountain of vegetables waiting on the center island.
“I’m doing it, Valentino, but I’m still staying here. Not giving up the food.”
Emmanuelle tossed them both a quick grin from over her shoulder as she cut up chicken. “Seriously? Are you two still arguing about Dario taking on his new role? Dario just doesn’t want to wear the suit. You look totally badass in it, hon.”
Val came up behind her, pressing his body tight against hers, arms around her waist. She was armed with a knife, and he was always respectful when his woman was armed with any weapon. “Don’t give him compliments. He’s already full of himself.”
He couldn’t help himself: he bit down gently on that sweet spot between her neck and shoulder that always brought goose bumps. He loved that sound of her laughter. Evidently, her bodyguards, a staple in her kitchen, did as well. The four of them, Levi, Axel, Pace and Lando, had been put to work also, coring and slicing apples for the deep-dish cinnamon apple pies they all loved.
“You could hire a chef, Dario,” Val said. “He doesn’t want his own territory because he wants to live here. He doesn’t like missing out on your cooking.”
He was rewarded with Emmanuelle’s laugh. She put her head back on his shoulder for a moment. “It’s a good thing you never started eating at Taviano’s house, Dario. He’s a way better chef than I am. I watch the cooking channels to improve. Poor Val has to pretend he likes some of the stuff I make for him.” She turned her head and pressed kisses into his jaw.
Just getting that from her made the cold, dark place inside him that was an abyss of hell, marking him a monster, burn with a hunger to find even bigger monsters and take them into that fiery pit with him, just to protect her.
At once she lifted her head, half turning to look into his eyes. “Valentino? Are you all right?” Her voice was whisper soft. Her eyes drifted over his face. Saw too much. She always knew when he was disturbed. “Honey, I told you not to let Eloisa come here. Whatever she said to you, let it go. I love you. You’re my choice. We’ll have children together, and the hell with whatever weird problem she’s decided she has with us. It isn’t her business, it’s ours.”