There was a long silence again. His phone vibrated. He glanced down at the screen. Emme looked over his shoulder. He should have covered the message.
You’re such a pussy, Val.
Val flipped Dario off, but at least the room didn’t feel the tension, which was stretched so taut it could have been cut with a knife.
“What do you need, Val?” Stefano said.
Val let out his breath slowly. The Ferraros were going to help him. They weren’t going to try to take Emmanuelle from him. He knew he still had a few hurdles to get through with his woman, but if her brothers believed he loved her, then she had to start believing it.
“I can’t look weak, and that means calling a meeting immediately. My people will know that Miceli hit us hard. They may have heard rumors we were killed. I’m certain Miceli will have fueled those rumors to disrupt business. That can’t happen. We don’t want chaos on the streets. I have to know who my enemies are. I’ll need a place to meet with my capos. That will be the most difficult part. Finding a place we can protect. The moment word goes out, Miceli’s spies will let him know, and he’ll have another chance to hit us.”
“I have conference rooms hidden here in the hotel that can be used, ones even more protected from civilians than what we used before,” Stefano offered. “You wouldn’t have to travel far. Your soldiers would have no idea what connections you have, and I can guarantee protection from every direction from inside the hotel as well as underground and the entrances and exits. I can have my cousins here by tomorrow afternoon to help with your protection. No one will see them or us, for that matter, unless anything goes wrong.”
It was an offer Val couldn’t afford to refuse, even if it came with strings—as long as those strings didn’t include giving up Emme.
“In return?”
“You keep the existing truce with my family. All drugs and other crimes out of our territory. No human trafficking in your territories. You stay silent about our family. If a whisper gets out, all bets are off and we come after you, Emme or no Emme.” Stefano’s tone meant business.
Beside him, Emmanuelle moved, as if she might decide to slide away. He always felt as if she were on the verge of flight. He caught her wrist, just as he had done on so many other occasions, holding her to him.
“Those terms are more than generous, Stefano, when you’re risking your lives.”
“I’m not unaware that someone has to do the job you do, Val. You set up what you need, let me know and I’ll work my end. I’m heading home to my wife. Emme?”
“Emmanuelle and I have things to work out,” Val said, tightening his hold on Emme’s wrist. He didn’t look at her, willing her to go along with him. To stay with him. Willing her to want to work it out.
She remained as taut as a piano wire, but she didn’t move off the bed. “I’ll stay here for a little while longer, Stefano.”
“If you’re certain.”
“I am.”
“I don’t want you heading off alone tonight. Miceli knows you’re important to Valentino,” Stefano said as he stood. “You can use any of the guest rooms in our home, or one of the hotel rooms if you choose.”
“Or she can stay with me,” Val pointed out, trying not to swear. The man had offered him protection, to be an ally when he needed it most, hadn’t tried to take Emmanuelle back and yet was still acting like Emme belonged with the Ferraros, not with Valentino.
Emmanuelle heaved a huge sigh. “Good night, Stefano. Ricco. Thank you for all your help tonight. I appreciate you so much.”
“Yes, thank you,” Val echoed.
He was grateful the two men walked out, closing the door behind them. Dario stood up and crossed to the far side of the bed, where he could study Emmanuelle’s face.
“Now that they’re gone, tell us how hurt you really are.”
“I told you. I was punched a couple of times. I was counting, breathing, but maybe he got in a few more punches than I thought, because I’m pretty sore.”
“Show us.”
Emmanuelle sat up straight. “I will not. I’m not wearing anything under my jacket.”
Val turned to her, putting her at arm’s length. She was very pale, and she was breathing shallowly, something she didn’t ordinarily do.
“Take off the jacket, Princess. We have to see what’s going on so we can help.”
“Dario’s here.”
Dario made a sound of total exasperation. “Don’t be ridiculous, Emme. Do you think I haven’t seen women’s bodies before? Take the damn jacket off and let me see the damage. I’m fucking tired and I want to go to bed.”
Val’s hands were already at the buttons. He’d always been intrigued by the fabric and the strange makeup of the buttons down the front. He’d never encountered the feel of the material before. As her seams widened, he saw the dark purple-and-black bruising spread across her generous breasts and down lower, just between and under them.