Severino looked around the room at his siblings. “I want to know the same. We’re all participating as well. Eloisa had a terrific idea not only to raise money for a worthy cause but as a great cover for all of us to use to get scans. The doctors aren’t going to question why we’re going in when we’re volunteering to allow our scans—anonymously, of course—to be used in comparison to those who have had trauma.”
“And if trauma is discovered? What is the explanation?” Ricco asked.
“For you and your idiot brothers,” Stefano said, “driving race cars and the accidents you were in. I imagine Severino can say the same. Geno and every other family member are going to have reasons because you’re all adrenaline junkies.”
“I think the idea of a fund-raiser is brilliant, Eloisa,” Emmanuelle said. “No one would ever think twice about it. The Ferraro family does them all the time.”
Giovanni nodded. “And Sasha’s brother has a brain injury. Thanks to the fuckin’ paparazzi, always paying everyone for photographs and any private information they can get, the world knows about him. We’ve donated money to the hospital and to his care facility several times for equipment and buildings. This will just be on a much larger scale.”
“Grace and Katie Branscomb are excellent at planning details, and they can handle something this large,” Eloisa said. “I’m well aware they’re working on wedding details for Taviano and Nicoletta, but they can do both. They work on several events at the same time as a rule. I think they can manage easily. I can check with Katie and see if she can find a location for an event of this size,” Eloisa said.
Taviano was a little shocked to hear the excitement in his mother’s voice. Few things seemed to ever bring her to life. He brushed the pad of his thumb back and forth over the back of Nicoletta’s hand.
“We can forgo a formal wedding,” Nicoletta said, a little too hopefully for Taviano’s liking. “We did get married in Vegas.”
“You’re a Ferraro,” Eloisa snapped, before Stefano could say anything. “To the people who live here, that means something, and you have a duty to them.”
“Eloisa,” Stefano cautioned. He smiled at Nicoletta, but his dark eyes were very serious. “The wedding is already being planned, Nicoletta, and as much as you’d like to get out of it, just like the rest of us, you’re going to have to see it through.”
The others laughed. Even Taviano. He wished he could get over the feeling that at any moment the room might explode from the tension between Nicoletta and Eloisa. He couldn’t blame Nicoletta. She knew one of Eloisa’s darkest secrets, and brain injury or not, there was no excuse for sending her son out four years before he was supposed to go, to a family he wasn’t supposed to go to, because she didn’t want to bother with him and all because Stefano was not available to parent. She’d used the excuse of sending him to the family in Italy because they were friends, but then, when he should have returned home, she didn’t want him back and she’d sent him on to the only place available.
Taviano broke out into a sweat. He had to stop thinking about it. His mind seemed to be in chaos. Suddenly he couldn’t understand what the voices in the room were saying. They were loud, and then receded. Back and forth. Ringing through his ears, reverberating through his head. His heart pounded. His chest hurt, the pressure building until he pressed his hand hard there, fearing he was having a heart attack. His lungs felt raw, desperate for air, but he couldn’t draw a single breath.
He thought he heard Nicoletta’s soft voice and Stefano’s deeper one. Someone bent over him and he started to fight that shadowy figure, self-preservation taking control.
Nicoletta knew exactly what was happening to Taviano because it had happened to her a thousand times. She had no idea what had triggered a flashback, but he was suffering from post-traumatic stress, and clearly, none of his family had ever seen him have an event. He was violent, impossible to get near.
“Get everyone out of here, Stefano,” Nicoletta ordered, taking charge. Taviano was her husband, and she had his back.
“Call a doctor,” Eloisa snapped. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Nicoletta. You don’t have a clue what’s wrong with him.”
“I know exactly what’s wrong, and so do you. Get out of here. Everyone needs to get out of here, especially you,” Nicoletta snapped back. “I mean it, Stefano, get them out.”
Eloisa went white. Stefano turned his dark, speculative gaze from his mother to Nicoletta and then to his brother, who was on the floor, sweat beading on his skin as he clutched his chest. He looked as if he was having a heart attack. Eloisa backed up as if afraid of Nicoletta.