Now he needed to talk to her. Tell her what she needed to know. They’d slept for a short hour, showered briefly and returned to bed. He’d snapped the night-light back on, telling her he wanted to see her face. He did, but he had other motives. He always had other motives, but he needed to see her face. Her expressions. She wanted him to talk to her about the Saldi myth, and he needed to be able to read her. This was going to be difficult all the way around.
Her fingers stroked through his hair, soothing him. He had all but forgotten how that made him feel. Loved. Cared for. She had a way of soothing him and allowing his brain to quiet. He always thought at such a fast speed; it was nice to be able to slow things down and just enjoy a little peace with his woman.
“When I first felt our shadows connect at that party, that jolt of physical awareness, it was sexual, so fucking hot, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t talk.” He glanced up at her face. “When I realized it was for you, and you were a kid, I was ashamed of myself for feeling the most physical attraction I had ever felt for a woman in my life.”
Emmanuelle didn’t say anything; she just sat there, eyes half-closed, those long lashes of hers veiling her expression so he couldn’t see what she was feeling. He went on. She wanted to know, and he was going to tell her.
“I knew my birth parents loved each other. It was evident in everything they said and did. They were inseparable. Sometimes I wasn’t always sure they had room for me.” He gave her a faint grin. “I’m kidding. They both spent plenty of time with me. I might have been an only, but I was never lonely.”
He reached up and traced her lips. “I wanted a family. I always knew I wanted a family and that I would love my wife and children the way my birth parents loved each other. The way Giuseppi loved Greta and she loved him. The way Giuseppi and Greta loved me.”
He fell silent. His adopted father was such a dichotomy. He loved his family wholeheartedly. Was gentle with Greta, although very strict with her about separating business from his home life. She could never inquire into his business affairs without severe reprimands. He’d expected Val to follow in his footsteps, and he’d showed him every aspect of the business, especially the harshest, most vile tortures, ones that included keeping a man alive for days using drugs and IVs so he would suffer endlessly if Giuseppi deemed he deserved it. Killing families of traitors while the traitor watched before torturing him so they would be made an example of was also something he would do without a qualm if he thought it was deserved—even families he knew.
Val had learned early what was expected of him, and he accepted his fate, that mantle of authority. He recognized that the organization was, in some ways, a protection for the rest of the civilian population. There were always going to be criminals. Always. How bad those criminals got, and how out of control, depended on how strong leadership was within the organization. Giuseppi was a strong leader, and he refused to allow certain types of crimes to take place in his territories. Anyone trying to bring in human trafficking or selling drugs to children, things Giuseppi was opposed to, would earn a death sentence, but not just a death sentence; he made an example out of you—and that wasn’t something anyone wanted.
“Why didn’t you ever consider leaving?”
Valentino stared up at the ceiling. He told himself he would be honest with her. The simple and very real answer she would accept—blood in, blood out—but he knew the truth was much more complex and she would always know there was more. He slid his palm along her bare hip and down her thigh. Drew circles there.
“One can’t walk away from this business, Emmanuelle. Especially someone like me. Once in, you’re in for life, and I was born into it. Had I tried to leave, I would have been hunted down and killed.”
He wanted to leave it there, but her silence told him she knew there was more. That was his woman. Too damned intelligent. A Ferraro. Lethal as hell in more ways than one. He found her hip again, traced her hip bone, and then moved his exploring fingers up to her rib cage.
“I like control. Power. I was born into that as well. It’s stamped into my DNA. When I was with Giuseppi in meetings with the other bosses and I was a kid, I couldn’t help looking for each of their weaknesses. Ways to use those things against them. Ways to make our family stronger. I was always thinking that way.”