“I know, baby. I would have been very upset if you hadn’t called me. When things go wrong, that’s what you’re supposed to do. We rely on each other. We’re famiglia. That means something, Emmanuelle.”
He dropped a kiss on top of her head. “Valentino is a good man. I told you that before. I know things went south between you, and I don’t in any way approve a relationship just because of what kind of family he comes from, but I know he’s a good man. I have no problem helping Val, especially when he’s been working to take down a human trafficking ring and a high-priced auction.” He touched his phone, the mass text she’d sent when she’d gotten updates of any kind of news on why Miceli had attacked Giuseppi, Valentino and Dario.
She put her arms around her brother and laid her face against his chest, right over his heart. She needed comfort, and Stefano gave it to her without hesitation. He wrapped his arms around her immediately.
“Do you think that’s what Grace was almost caught up in?” She glanced over at Vittorio. He was clearly paying attention.
Vittorio frowned. “I’ve been thinking it. They were very specific that someone wanted Grace. Not just anyone, but Grace. Dario said that these auctions are young girls, and although Grace was a virgin, she wasn’t a teenager, and they had no way of knowing she was a virgin.”
“I thought you knew who wanted her, that Miceli owed him a debt,” Emme said.
Vittorio shook his head. “Stefano and I talked it over many times. That scenario didn’t make sense. No, someone else wanted her, and Miceli wasn’t going to own up that he was involved in any way.”
Alarms began to go off in Emmanuelle’s head. She pressed her lips together as if to hold back secrets. How many secrets could she hold back? And for what? She pulled herself out of Stefano’s arms and leaned over the bed to stare down into Valentino’s face. His eyes were closed. His lashes were as black as night and long, too long for a man to have. She’d always been envious of his lashes. Now they stood out starkly against his pale skin. He normally had the most beautiful dark complexion, as if he had a permanent tan. She loved his coloring.
“You’re awake.” She made it an accusation.
The lashes fluttered but didn’t lift. “Floating. Doc gave me something, but it’s wearing off.” His voice was tinny, faraway.
Good. Maybe he’d tell the truth for a change. “There was a reason you noticed me all those years ago, Val, the same reason Dario noticed Nicoletta and Miceli wanted Grace.”
Stefano stepped closer to her, one hand on her back for support, as if he knew she was guessing and whatever answer Valentino gave her was going to rip her apart even more. Vittorio sat up straighter in his chair.
Val’s lips, the ones that looked chapped and dry but had always been velvet soft and perfect and could kiss like heaven, pulled into a little half smile. “My girl. So smart. Love you so much, Emme.”
“Valentino. Why did you single me out?” She made it a demand. “Why was Dario looking at Nicoletta? What did Miceli want with Grace?”
His hand moved on the bed. Sliding. Seeking. She looked at it, trying not to respond. Hating that she wanted to touch him. That she needed to. She closed her eyes and then let herself feel his skin next to hers. The moment she did, she knew it was a mistake. There was no blood. No trauma to keep her head occupied. There was only Val and Emme. Before she could pull her fingers away, he turned his hand and captured hers with surprising strength. Never once did he lift his lashes.
“Val, I need an answer.”
“You already know the answer, Princess.”
It was another blow, a hard punch in the gut, even though she was expecting it. Now she knew what her sisters-in-law had to have felt like when they first learned they met certain “criteria” to be with Ferraros.
She tried again to pull her hand away, but he refused to relinquish his hold on her. “I saw the bindings tying our shadows together, but I don’t know how, or what it means, Val.” Deliberately, she spoke aloud, even if it came out a whisper, because if she didn’t she would never be able to tell Stefano and Vittorio why there were tears streaming down her face.
She felt her brothers’ shock. Stefano dug his fingers into the side of her waist. She didn’t look at him, or at Vittorio. She could only look at Val. Was there some way to undo it? If so, was it like the riders? Would she forget him? Did she want to forget him?
“Not going to talk about anything that would give you an excuse to run away from me again. Too tired right now, Emme. Give me a couple of hours, babe.” His voice trailed off.