“Congratulations, you two. Should I keep it quiet? I mean, I’ll tell my dad, but he won’t say anything.” Tito looked around the pizza parlor as if he wanted to make an announcement right then.
“We’d prefer that you didn’t say anything yet,” Taviano said. “We’d like to have a week to ourselves before the madness starts. You know what it’s like. You’ve seen the circus enough times when one of us marries. Nicoletta wants things low key, and so do I.”
Tito nodded. “I understand. I’ll protect your privacy. Your family has always supported us, even through our darkest times. No matter what, you’ve come through.”
“Don’t be so nice to him, Tito. He was nearly kicked out for too much PDA.”
Tito’s eyebrows shot up. “What are you talking about?”
“Your dad’s policy on public displays of affection. Taviano broke that rule so fast. He should have been thrown out but was shown mercy, which he didn’t deserve.” Nicoletta snagged another piece and smiled. “If you tossed him now, I could eat this entire pizza and have ice cream all to myself.”
“She forgot her cash,” Taviano pointed out with complete complacency. He grabbed the largest slice of pizza left, just in case the little monster he was married to managed to put away several slices to his one.
“Sorry, hon, no cash, he’s gotta stay.” Tito sounded regretful, but he winked at Taviano as he turned away.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Once back at the penthouse, Nicoletta and Taviano took the same small couch they’d been sitting on before. Taviano liked how comfortable the sofa was, but mostly he preferred it because he could sit very close to his woman and shield her when he felt she needed it. Stefano had the fireplace going, the logs burning brightly, giving the room a soft glow that hadn’t been there before. He rarely remembered to switch on the flames, not unless Francesca was around. Taviano knew his older brother had done that for Nicoletta, just to make the room seem more of a home to her.
Nicoletta had come to Stefano’s penthouse often, especially in the last two years. She trained there in self-defense, and she was very disciplined about keeping her schedule. She didn’t miss a single class. As she progressed, the family had scheduled more and more classes with her, and she had managed to make every one of them. After, she would often stay and play with Crispino and visit with Francesca, so she was very comfortable there.
Taviano thought those times, just relaxing with his siblings and especially his in-laws, helped bring Nicoletta closer to the family. She smiled more and even laughed at Crispino’s antics. She had always liked the fireplace on, and when Stefano would light the flames, telling his son not to go near the grate to keep him from harm.
“We’ve come back to discuss some things that I think are extremely important for all riders,” Stefano said. “I trust everyone has had dinner and is comfortable? Eloisa?” He looked to his mother.
She nodded. “Henry and I had a lovely dinner, thank you, Stefano.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t always say things the way I mean them. Clearly, when I spoke earlier, Nicoletta, I upset you. I am happy that you carry such strong Archambault genetics, but I didn’t mean that all you’re good for is to have baby after baby. I know it came out that way, and I’m sorry. Henry says I don’t think before I speak, and he’s right. I have no social skills.”
Taviano nearly fell from his seat, so shocked by his mother’s explanation he could barely comprehend what she’d said. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one. Looking around the room, he saw his brothers, cousins and the other women were equally as stunned.
Nicoletta sent Eloisa a small smile. “Thank you for that. I certainly have no intention of being the family broodmare, although I want children.”
“I’ve already spoken to Marcellus Archambault in France,” Stefano said. “About a half hour ago, Nicoletta. He’s reviewed all the videos of you. I told him, although I haven’t had the chance to tell everyone here, about you stepping up when the two Demons turned their guns on me.”
He paused, and Taviano knew he wanted Eloisa to realize he had really been in danger. Her head went up alertly.
“There was no shadow for me to hide in. Taviano was too far to reach one of them. At best, he might have gotten to the other. Nicoletta was outside, watching, where we told her to stay. She picked up a rock and threw it using a method one might for skipping it on a lake, but so fast it actually whistled through the air. The first struck one, and a second rock came right on the heels of the first, striking the other gunman. Both rocks were thrown with deadly accuracy. Not only did the sound distract them from shooting, but when they were struck, they both turned away from me.”
Stefano glanced up at Taviano. “Had you ever seen that before?”
Taviano shook his head. “No. I was a little shocked that not only could she think that fast, but she could throw rocks that fast.”
“My father, meaning my adoptive father, taught me to skip rocks from a very young age. He could make them whistle when he skipped them, and I loved it. I practiced until I had it down.” Nicoletta gave a little shrug as if it was nothing.
“It was fast thinking,” Stefano said. “Very fast. That was one of the things Marcellus was most impressed with. Not just Nicoletta’s reflexes or the way her body reacts in the shadows, but her overall ability to adapt to every situation.”
Taviano’s heart suddenly dropped. “He wants her to go to France, doesn’t he?”
“Stefano,” Emmanuelle objected. “No. She’s ours. He can’t just demand she go to them because she has their blood. She’s Taviano’s wife. I hope you told him that. They’re already married. We’re planning a wedding, but they’re already married.” She was adamant.
“No one can force her to go,” Stefano said, his voice calm. “But yes, he would like to train her himself.”
Nicoletta’s hand trembled in his. Taviano tightened his fingers around hers, giving her reassurance. She wasn’t ready to go to other families, especially those predominantly male. She needed to establish herself where she was, gain confidence, build her own identity. He knew that as well as she did.
“What would you like to do, tesoro?” Taviano asked. “Whatever you decide, I’ll be with you.”
“This is my family,” Nicoletta said. “The people here. I’m just starting to recover and find myself. I want to stay here and train. If, in the future, that advantage is still open for me, then I’ll consider it when I feel I’m able, but right now, I know I’m not ready. Please thank him for me, Stefano, but I can’t go to France at this time.”
Taviano could hear the pleading in her voice for understanding, and he didn’t like it. She didn’t need to defend herself to anyone.
“I was hoping you would opt to stay with us,” Stefano said.
Taviano could have kissed him. Over and over his brother proved why he was not only the leader of the Ferraro shadow riders but also of their family. He might have a ferocious temper, but he was also compassionate, and he seemed to know what each family member needed. Nicoletta had been treated as a member of their family almost from the moment they had brought her back from New York with them. Stefano had so easily just made her feel as if she was wanted there by all of them. A few simple words were all it took from the head of the family, voiced in that casual way he had that spoke volumes.
“Elie is here, and he’s indicated he’s willing to help with your training in and out of the shadows. He’s been working with Vittorio, Ricco and Mariko as well as Emmanuelle and me. Giovanni and Taviano were scheduled next. Severino and Geno have both indicated, as heads of their families, that they would like additional training for their families as well. We all know that no matter how much we train, our bodies do dictate some of what we can do. That’s why we train with those faster than us to try to always be better. What Marcellus was getting across, Nicoletta, is that your genetics will allow you to be faster and see more in the shadows than most others can.” Stefano sent her a smile. “That’s a good thing. But it
also means that you might have a tendency to, once you’re comfortable, not train as hard.”
She shook her head slightly but didn’t respond to Stefano’s indictment.
Taviano’s hand tightened around hers. He brought her knuckles up to his mouth to press a kiss there because she was still trembling, and he wanted to reassure her that no matter her choice, he was with her.
“I know that most riders work alone, Stefano,” Nicoletta said. “Even if I get to the point where I’m good enough to go out by myself, I would prefer to work in partnership with Taviano. Is that ever done?”
Eloisa rolled her eyes. “Seriously? What’s the point of teaching you, then? Or having the kind of genetics you have? Does Mariko need her husband to hold her hand when she goes out? She holds her own, the same as Velia or Emmanuelle. Female riders are every bit as good as male riders. It’s ridiculous to think that you would need a man to be with you once you know what you’re doing.” There was a sneer to her voice.
Taviano opened his mouth to defend Nicoletta, but she got there before him.
“I’m sorry, Eloisa, but you must have misunderstood me. I didn’t say I needed Taviano to hold my hand, although …”
She turned her head to smile adoringly up at him, brought their joined hands up and kissed his fingers. “I do love holding his hand. I said I preferred to work in partnership with Taviano. I am not certain what part of that you don’t understand. My preference for working with my husband? I believe I was asking a question about whether a team was ever sent out or whether it was always a lone rider.”
She turned back to Stefano, all wide-eyed innocence, which Taviano knew was the epitome of total bullshit. It was all he could do to keep from smiling. His woman was giving no quarter. No matter what, she wasn’t going to like his mother, not after what he had revealed to her about the way Eloisa had reacted to his childhood assault.
“Is there something wrong with asking questions, Stefano? I’m not yet familiar with protocol so you’ll have to forgive me if I’m making blunders.”
“No, of course not, Nicoletta. Often, in the past, riders went out in pairs. That ensured the safety of the riders, but we are too few at this point and we need the riders in the rotations to give one another breaks. Having said that, it doesn’t mean we won’t accommodate the preferences of riders. Taviano stated the same thing. If both of you feel strongly, I have to take that into consideration. All of us have instincts and it would be wrong of me to ignore your instincts, especially if both of you are feeling them.”
Eloisa shook her head, pressed her lips together and clenched her fists, as if that were the only way she could keep her opinions to herself.
“This brings us to another matter that could very well affect every shadow rider, not just those of us in this room,” Stefano went on. “When we were first learning to go into the shadows, all of us suffered headaches and nosebleeds. Some severe, and some less so. The symptoms lessened as we grew accustomed to being in the shadows, and we could stay in for longer periods of time. Eventually, even the longer, faster shadows rarely bothered us.”
Taviano frowned, watching his older brother carefully. Stefano was definitely worried. He saw his older brother’s gaze flick to Severino. His cousin knew whatever it was that Stefano did and he was equally worried.
“Eloisa has been having severe headaches and nosebleeds for several years. Unbeknownst to us, when we were children, she was sent out over and over even days after giving birth because, according to her parents—the heads of the family and riders at that time—she didn’t need the rest and there were no other riders available to go. The headaches and bleeding became worse and more severe. She began experiencing blackouts. Or at least times when she couldn’t stop herself from acting in ways that she might not normally behave.”
There was sudden silence in the room. Taviano felt his heart thud hard in his chest. He didn’t want to look at his mother, but he couldn’t help it. Eloisa had her head down, not looking at anyone in the room. She was a proud woman, and he couldn’t imagine how she felt with all of them staring at her, suddenly aware of very private medical information. He had no idea how Stefano had gotten her to agree to allow him to share that data with everyone.
“Over the last few years, the headaches and bleeds have grown worse. Even after she stopped officially riding in rotations, she was still using the shadows to move from one place to another. Those bleeds seemed to compound, and the headaches were so severe she would sometimes go blind. When she confessed this to me, I asked that she go to the Hendrick Center and have Dr. Elliot do an MRI on her brain to look for trauma. We have to know if going into the shadows can cause the rider brain damage.”
Giovanni reached out to touch his mother’s shoulder, a rare gesture for any of them. “Eloisa,” he said softly. “You could have shared this with me.”
She shook her head, but to Taviano’s astonishment, she didn’t pull away from Giovanni as she normally would have. She didn’t like sympathy or a show of compassion from anyone ever, not even when her husband died. He thought perhaps it was because Sasha’s brother had such severe brain injuries.
“Unfortunately, Eloisa’s scan did show she is suffering from fairly severe brain injuries,” Stefano announced in that same matter-of-fact voice that he used as if speaking about the weather.
Taviano closed his eyes and pushed his head back against the couch. He had allowed Nicoletta over and over into the shadows. She had headaches. She had nosebleeds. He had thought them a natural part of learning. “Tesoro,” he whispered. Aching inside.
“Don’t, Taviano,” Nicoletta said immediately.
“I know that sounds bad for all of us, but before we all panic, we need more information. Eloisa came forward, and she has ideas that I think will help us to better figure this situation out and let us know what to do and where we can go from here. This is a good time for us to take a step back from our work, since law enforcement may suddenly be taking a hard look our way once again,” Stefano continued. “Eloisa thought this might be a great time to organize a worldwide fund-raiser for traumatic brain injuries. The Ferraros could lead the fund-raiser by getting scans of our brains to use for comparison with those that have been injured in accidents. At least, that will be the excuse we use. Every member of the Ferraro family will participate. Our New York cousins as well as our Los Angeles cousins. I’ll talk to the council and they’ll have the members of the other families get scans as well.”
Stefano got to his feet and poured himself a glass of sparkling water, looking around the room to see if anyone else wanted their glass filled. No one took him up on the offer. Taviano thought they were all too stunned to move or really think. He knew he was. The idea that doing what they’d been born to do was harming them seemed ludicrous.
“I don’t think anyone should panic yet,” Stefano said, leaning one hip against the bar. “I haven’t had a headache in years, nor have I gotten a nosebleed. I think, if I were having a problem, I would have had signs. Nevertheless, I will be going in to get an MRI immediately. I think it’s necessary for all of us to do so. In fact, for my family it will be considered mandatory, or there will be no putting you into the roster. Anyone wanting to be pulled from the roster, of course, just make that request and it’s done. Having said that, if you do get a headache or a nosebleed, no matter how minor, I want to know about it.”
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.
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