“The lion and the mouse.”
“First in Italian and then in English,” Stefano said.
Crispino nodded his head. “Then Mommy can sing to me.”
“Yes, after we read a story.”
“I can kiss baby sister.”
“That’s before we read,” Stefano said firmly. “No stalling tonight.”
Brielle felt Elie’s hand tighten around hers. He was observing the exchange between Stefano and his son carefully. She realized Stefano was his only example of a man with his family. She was very glad they’d come to the dinner and she had the chance to see the entire Ferraro family together. If Elie had to choose a man to show him the way to treat his wife and children, Stefano was a good example to emulate.
On the way down to the floor where they were staying, Elie explained that Grace’s shoulder had been shattered by a bullet when she stepped in to protect Vittorio. She had undergone so many surgeries and had pins, plates, bolts, cement, physical therapy and over time more surgeries, and now an actual shoulder replacement. Her muscles didn’t want to hold the shoulder in place. This was their last effort.
“That makes me so sad for her. She’s so sweet, Elie.”
“The women in the Ferraro family are good women, Brielle. I hope you felt welcomed. They wanted you there tonight.”
Elie’s body crowded close to hers in the privacy of the elevator, his body heat keeping her warm. She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned into him. Her body hurt in half a dozen places, but she ached for him. It seemed as if she’d been without him forever.
“Did the doctor clear me for sex?” She looked up at him hopefully, uncaring that she was the one asking. Uncaring what that said. He’d been teasing and he’d implied they might have sex, but she ached for him. On the other hand, the wound in her thigh felt raw and chafing under the constant movement of her leggings when she walked.
“Not quite yet, Brielle. Not actual sex,” he clarified. “We can do a few other things, but Doc said we should wait another week at least.”
That made her uneasy, especially since she knew Elie would be traveling in the shadows extensively again. Shadows always made riders horribly aroused. She nodded and when they returned to their room, she let him help her take her clothes off to get ready for bed. When she was ready, Elie helped her onto the bed, but when she would have moved to the top, he stopped her with a wicked grin.
“I think I told you I had plans. We might not be able to have sex, but that doesn’t mean we can’t play. I intend to play for a long time, so you may as well get comfortable, mon petit amor.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
From the shadows, Elie couldn’t keep the amusement from his face when Riccardo Santoro’s bodyguards approached Dario and Valentino to search them. Both men stopped them with just one look.
“Seriously? We were asked to come to see Riccardo. He knows we are armed,” Val said. “That said, we didn’t bring our protection detail, but we can leave. And, gentlemen, if you’re stupid enough to point your weapons at us, you’re going to start a war you can’t possibly win even here on your home turf.”
Riccardo Santoro came down the hall. A lean man with handsome features, graying hair and a smooth, easy smile, he waved his security back. “These men are invited guests. There is no need for this. Valentino, Dario, please come in. Val, I thought you might bring your wife with you.”
Riccardo gestured down the wide, impressive hallway. It was a gallery filled with artwork from many of the masters. Beautiful paintings meant to impress. Valentino had an eye for art and he made a show of looking. He took his time, giving Ricco and Stefano, who had entered the house when they did, plenty of room to find the shadows they needed to explore the huge mansion.
Riccardo thought he would have the upper hand in this meeting. He had always been good at reading his opponents. He believed, because Valentino and Dario were so much younger and had only recently taken over the Saldi territories, that he could come to a compromise with them. He also was certain he could convince them he wasn’t responsible for the hits taken out on them—or Brielle.
Emmanuelle, Taviano and Mariko were following along with Dario, Elie and Valentino as their protection detail. In the shadows, they would be able to study every nuance of Riccardo’s body language as well as every inflection of his voice. They would also have time to react if there was any kind of danger toward their charges.
Riccardo took them to a large round room overlooking the park. Deliberately, Dario wandered over to the windows to look down at the view. Val stood in the doorway, staring down the hall at the impressive paintings. He made certain the long shadows thrown by the overhead lighting to showcase the artwork provided a generous pathway to allow Elie and the other riders to slide into the room and lock into other shadows.
“Beautiful paintings, Riccardo,” he acknowledged.
“My wife, Eva,” he replied and came to stand beside Val. He smelled of cigars and depravity. “She’s always loved art. When she was younger, she painted. The house always smelled of oil paints or acrylics. I learned to know the difference. In those young days, I didn’t know anything about art, but because she loved it so much, I learned.”
Val knew Riccardo Santoro had learned. He’d gotten into the business of ripping off collectors by selling fake originals to them. The copies he sold were so good, many experts couldn’t tell the difference. Naturally, the original would first be stolen from the museum so the illicit collectors would be duped into believing they’d bought the real thing. It was a clever scheme and he’d made a fortune.
Val stepped back and Riccardo closed the door. When Riccardo turned, he was shocked to see Elie Archambault standing beside Dario and Valentino. The crime lord blinked several times, but it was clear to Elie that he didn’t want to acknowledge that he hadn’t seen him walk down the hall with his other two guests. That would make him look weak and he couldn’t afford that.
Valentino simply leaned against the wall, his gaze on Riccardo as if he were a cat watching a mouse. He was a Saldi, perhaps new to the throne, but he’d been raised by Giuseppi to hold on to what he had through sheer brute force if necessary. Though young, he had already made a name for himself, someone to walk very softly around. Valentino and Dario appeared supremely confident by leaving their security force outside the gates. Elie knew that move alone had shaken Riccardo just a bit. Now, with Elie appearing out of nowhere, Riccardo was more than shaken; he was confused.
Elie turned to the others. “Shall we get down to business? We wouldn’t want our men to get nervous.”
Riccardo’s laugh betrayed his tension. He waved them to the chairs in front of his desk. Before either man could sit, Dario took several moments to examine the chairs, then nodded and stepped back without a word. Valentino sank into one and Elie the other. Dario moved back against the wall.