“Yes, it is. They were blatant about being in the club, Emme. How they got in without any of us being told, or how Haydon slipped through, I have no idea.”
“Tell me about her,” Emme invited. “When did you meet her? Stefano says you’re claiming her as your fiancée. Rosina is sending us information as fast as she gets it so we can answer any questions posed to us by the police or anyone else.”
Vittorio rubbed his chest. He still felt her there. Deep. Her voice had opened something soft in him that had been locked away. “Tonight was the first time I ever laid eyes on her. She was . . . unexpected.”
“Are you certain she’s the one?” Emme whispered. “Do you just know it, Vittorio? In your soul, where you live, do you just know?”
He glanced down at her sharply, his gaze moving over her face. He nodded slowly because she deserved an answer, especially when tears swam in her eyes and the family of the man she loved was involved in kidnapping and forcing a woman into prostitution.
“She’s the one. I never thought it would be possible. I’d just been thinking that, looking around the club at all the women, knowing there wasn’t one out there that would suit me . . . and maybe there isn’t. Maybe she’s a rider and she would be good for someone other than me. I’m not so . . . lovable.”
“Don’t say that.” Emme’s defense of him was fierce. “Don’t ever say that, Vittorio, because it isn’t true.”
“I love you, honey,” Vittorio said. He pulled away from her and looked at the woman waiting so patiently for him to give her details about his fiancée. “I claimed her, but she doesn’t have a clue who I am. If she knows about the Ferraros . . .”
“Everyone knows about our family or they’ve been living off planet,” Emmanuelle quipped. “She knows. She might not care, but she knows.”
“I’m no bargain, Emme. I need things from a woman most men don’t. She stood up to those men.” He found himself smiling at the memory of her flying out of the trunk of the car, straight at Haydon. “That red hair of hers is natural.”
“Good for her.”
“Yeah. Good for her.” He’d loved that she’d fought back, that she was no pushover. That wasn’t what he wanted in a woman, but maybe it was what he needed.
Hell, he didn’t know. Right now, all he felt was sick inside, his guts twisted into vicious knots. He’d done his best to keep her alive, his hands in that mess that had been her shoulder, trying to stem the tidal wave of blood.
“She’s going to live, Vittorio,” Emmanuelle assured. “She has to, if she’s yours. Shadow riders fight. She may not know she’s capable of riding, but that strength is in her. She’ll pull through and she’ll need lots of help after.”
He was good with that. “I’m going to have to fill out paperwork for her. Rosina has sent me all kinds of information, so most of it will be easy enough.” He rubbed her cheek with his thumb. “What about you, honey? This has to hurt.”
Emmanuelle didn’t pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about. “I broke things off with Val a few weeks ago. I think about him every minute of every day, but I have discipline. I heard him say—I heard him, with my own ears—say that his father had ordered him to seduce me. He told another woman that. A woman he was clearly going to bed with.”
Vittorio wrapped his arm around her again, drawing her under his shoulder, wanting to take the hurt from her. “I’m sorry, Emme. Really, really sorry.”
“It was better to find out now before I made an even bigger fool of myself than I’ve already made.” She paused for a moment. “I would have given up riding the shadows for him. I would have given up everything I am for him and he’s not worth it.”
“No, he’s not.” Vittorio wanted to shake the man until every bone in his body turned to powder, but he refrained from saying so. Emme would have been more upset if she thought he threatened Val with bodily harm. He didn’t want to give her any excuse to champion Valentino Saldi.
“Val was my ‘the one.’ The lesson here is, we can get it wrong. Make certain this woman suits you, Vittorio. If she doesn’t, don’t go there. Don’t let yourself fall too hard. It’s a long road back and every step is painful.”
Vittorio wanted to wrap his sister in a cocoon. She didn’t deserve what Val had put her through. She’d broken it off with him many times and he always managed to get her to come back to him—until recently.
“Rosina is searching for everything she can find on Haydon Phillips.” Emmanuelle changed the subject. “Stefano called a meeting at his home at breakfast. Hopefully, your girl will be out of surgery by then and you can join us.”
“I told her I’d be there when she woke up.”
“Ask the surgeon when that will be,” Emme prompted. “That way we can have the meeting, prepare a battle plan and then you can get back here. You have to know, for the Saldis to come to our club, something is up.”
She was right about that. “The footage needs reviewing. Someone let them in. They allowed them onto the third tier. They had to have paid for that, or they couldn’t have gotten up there, unless someone we trust snuck them in.”
“In which case, we know where all the drugs are coming from,” Emmanuelle said.
He nodded. “We can access the recordings from our phones if need be. The managers know we don’t as a rule, so if they can wipe out the recordings, we might get lucky and they overlooked that.”
“But they won’t for long. With Grace getting shot, the two Saldi employees getting arrested and all of us involved, they’re going to be doing damage control. I’ll get on that right now.” Emme pulled away from him, going toward the door. “Try to make the meeting, Vittorio. It won’t do either of you any good to be sitting by her side when she’s out of surgery and unconscious. In any case, if we’re going to war with a major crime family, we have to be prepared.”
It was a huge concession for Emmanuelle to acknowledge that Valentino’s family were criminals.
“I’ll be there if at all possible,” he promised. The meeting was going to be very painful for his sister and he wanted to be there for her. He wouldn’t leave if Grace was awake, but if not, he was determined to be there for Emme.
CHAPTER TWO
Vittorio rode the private elevator that took him to the penthouse suite in the Ferraro. The chain of hotels the family owned were renowned for their opulence and meticulous attention to every comfort and detail. Most were frequented by celebrities and politicians. Actors and actresses, singers and bands, the wealthiest of the wealthy. The hotel catered to them, pampered them and gave them every luxury.
Stefano Ferraro lived in the penthouse suite, with his wife, Francesca. Francesca had been the woman to provide hope for the entire Ferraro family, and that included their New York, San Francisco and Los Angeles cousins. Until Stefano found Francesca, none of them had believed they would find a woman capable of bearing shadow riders who would be a perfect match. That she and Stefano had fallen so deeply in love with each other was icing on the cake. Stefano was the leader of the Chicago Ferraros, but Francesca was the heart of them.