“I can understand, and actually, in a way it’s the truth. The timeline is a little off. Your mother didn’t come here right after your father died, did she?”
He shook his head. “When I realized she didn’t need me hanging around, and I needed action, I joined the military. You know the rest. While I was in the military, I continued to ride shadows because I couldn’t resist them and to stay in practice. I was careful never to get caught. When I came to Chicago, I was going to end my riding career and be a bodyguard, but I guess once it’s in your blood, you can’t just let it go.”
“And you’re needed, Elie,” Emme reminded gently.
He nodded. There was no denying that fact. There weren’t enough riders. There never would be. “We’re back to needing those babies, aren’t we, Emme? The ones we can’t really have together. Are you going to tell me how you managed to fuck up your life? I can’t imagine that you called your man a cow. And how I ever even came up with such a demeaning term for a woman who looks as beautiful as Brielle, I’ll never know. She isn’t a tall, elegant model, and she actually has breasts and hips, but fuck, Emme, what I did to that woman. I hurt her beyond any imagination.” He scrubbed his hand over his face as if he could wipe away the memory.
Emmanuelle studied his expression for a long time, and then she sighed. She had to give him something. “I just chose the wrong man. You saw him dozens of times, Elie.”
He lifted his head and looked at her. “Valentino Saldi is not a rider, Emme. Ferraros fall in love once, same as Archambaults. Saldi couldn’t compromise your shadow.”
She took a sip of her Italian soda, her gaze darting around to the tables closest to them, landing specifically on the one where their bodyguards ate pizza and drank coffee. “I tried to talk to my brothers about this more than once when I was a kid, but they wouldn’t listen to me, Elie.”
She lowered her voice to the point that he would have to hitch forward. If he really wanted to hear what she had to say, she wasn’t taking any chances. Elie, to his credit, leaned toward her, even though he did take a rather large forkful of ice cream.
“You were around the council a lot. Did you ever hear of anything other than pure shadows weaving two people so tightly together they can’t get away?”
Elie sat up straight, his dark velvet-brown eyes moving over her face inch by slow inch as if he was examining her carefully. “What the hell does that even mean, Emme?”
She sighed. “Apparently, you haven’t.”
Elie leaned toward her again. “Is there any evidence? When we look at shadows, we can see the knots tangled. Can you see something in the shadows binding you when they’re reflected on a wall?”
She nodded slowly, her teeth biting down on her lower lip. Once again, she glanced toward the table where their bodyguards sat enjoying food. “From the very first time I was ever around him at a party. I snuck out and went with a friend of mine. I wanted to see if I could do it because my brothers were always going places but I wasn’t supposed to.” She flashed him a little grin. “Naturally, I slipped right past them all.”
“They weren’t expecting it, were they?”
“Nope, not from the good girl, little Emme.” Her breath caught in her throat. “Val was so good-looking, and I was so young and impressionable. I stayed across the room. He was a Saldi, and I was a Ferraro. I knew I shouldn’t be there. I knew Stefano would lose his mind. I didn’t dance. I stayed in a dark corner. I didn’t want him to see me. I don’t know why I was so afraid of him, but I was, and I’ve never been afraid of anyone.”
Elie shook his head. “That should have told you something right there, Emme. You should have acted on your instincts and gotten the hell out of there.”
She nodded because it was the truth. “I know. I knew then. I felt trapped. I was afraid if I moved, I’d call attention to myself.” She swallowed hard, wondering what to tell him. Elie had been so honest, it was only fair she be just as honest. But he was an Archambault and a rider. She didn’t want Val dead, and if she wasn’t very, very careful, if she didn’t walk a fine line, that could be the result of the conversation.
“I could barely breathe when Valentino Saldi looked across the room and his eyes met mine for the very first time—they were extremely intense, Elie, and so damn green. The pit of my stomach dropped away. I couldn’t have moved if my life depended on it. He stood, a casual, almost flowing move, very controlled, and my heart accelerated. I was a trained shadow rider, and I couldn’t stop my reaction. I knew he was going to walk right through that crowd straight to me. His shoulders were broad, his hair thick and glossy black. He was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. I remember every single detail so vividly.”