Shadow Warrior, page 17
part #4 of Shadow Rider Series
“Thank you. I should have known. More than once he took my phone from me and demanded to know my passcode. I thought it was to see my schedule, so he could threaten me by hanging around.”
“He can’t get to you now, Grace,” he assured.
She stared down at the cell phone in her hand. “He gets very angry when he doesn’t know where I am. I got used to him demanding my schedule.”
Vittorio frowned. “I want you to really think back, cara. Even when you were children, was he always with you? Did he depend on you to do anything for him?”
She didn’t answer right away. His thoughtful Grace. He liked that trait in her. The stillness in her. She brought a sense of peace to her surroundings. She’d lived in a potentially violent world every minute of the day since she became aware of what Haydon truly was. From that, possibly because of it, she’d developed inner tranquility, a place inside her that she could depend on when everything around her turned to chaos.
“He’s older than I am by a couple of years, but he didn’t talk much. When I first went into the foster home, he was already there. He was thin, and very small. Back then, I was extremely small, and I think he liked that I was littler than he was. It made him feel big. My other foster brother, Dwayne, was a bully. He liked to push us both around. I stood up for Haydon when Dwayne kept tripping him. That’s where it started with us.”
“No one had probably ever stood up for him before.”
She put the phone on the table and reached for the pitcher of icy strawberry lemonade Merry had placed on the little table beside her glass. Vittorio’s hand got there first. He would have to talk to Merry about expecting Grace to pick up a full pitcher of ice and juice. It was too heavy. He poured a glass for her and then went to the small, freestanding bar to pull out a glass for himself.
“Mr. Ferraro?” Merry’s voice sounded strained, and he turned. She stood there wringing her hands, looking nervous. “Mrs. Ferraro is here.”
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Grace stiffen. He wondered if she thought he was secretly married. The thought made him smile. The moment he saw the woman bearing down on them, her expression grim, her face a mask of anger, the smile disappeared. Instinctively, he put his body between his mother and Grace.
“This is ridiculous, making me stand waiting in the foyer like I’m some salesman. Your staff needs lessons on protocol. I’m talking to your mother, Merry, about your atrocious manners. When I come to my son’s home, I don’t expect to be told to sit and wait as if I’m some commoner visiting the king.”
“Hello, Eloisa,” Vittorio drawled. Deliberately he crossed the room, bent his head and brushed his mother’s cheek with a barely there kiss.
She jumped back, recovered and glared at him. Her hand went to her cheek and brushed at her skin, as if she could remove his mark on her. “Stop that, Vittorio. I know you do that to annoy me.”
“It’s a gesture of affection, Eloisa, which most mothers appreciate.”
She glared at him, hands on hips. “Well I don’t, so stop it.” She looked past him to Grace. “It wasn’t enough that you had Teodosiu Giordano panting after you, you had to go after my son. Vittorio does have a bigger bank account, but I think Giordano will suit a girl like you so much better.”
Vittorio swung around. “Teodosiu Giordano expressed an interest in you?”
Grace curled her fingers around the tall glass of strawberry lemonade. “He asked me out several times, yes. I refused to go out with him.”
“I’ll just bet you did. Are you pregnant? Did he knock you up and throw you out on your ear so that now you are going after my son?”
“Giordano was an enforcer for Miceli Saldi for years. He came into a great deal of money and ended up a loan shark,” Vittorio informed his woman. “This ties everything together so neatly.” Deliberately, he ignored his mother.
“He’s got to be the man Haydon owes the money to.” Grace took her cue from him, not looking at Eloisa, refusing to be intimidated by her.
Pride burst through him. She was magnificent. She looked regal, even with her shoulder completely immobile, bandages holding her arm in place. Her voice was soft, but definitely, she was a woman in charge, speaking to him as an equal.
“I should have thought of Giordano. He would have been the first one a man like Haydon would go to for money.” He turned his head and flashed a smile at his mother. “Thank you, Eloisa. You’ve solved part of the mystery. We needed to know who was supplying Haydon with cash.”
Eloisa frowned. “Vittorio.” Her voice was cautionary but cutting.
Vittorio ignored her and swung back to face Grace. “We’ve speculated for years over why Miceli would allow Giordano to leave his position as top enforcer and strike out on his own as a loan shark.”
“Don’t talk to her about our private family business.” Eloisa nearly shrieked it.
Vittorio indicated the glass of strawberry lemonade and when Grace didn’t pick it up right away, he did and held it to her lips. He brushed back her hair while she drank, his fingertips savoring the richness of the thick, silky strands. “This is all public knowledge,” he assured her. “Anyone can speculate on Miceli’s generosity to a former employee. The bottom line is, if you turned down a man like Giordano, he might think he could get you through a gambling debt. Did you know he was in the mob?”
Grace shook her head. “No, I thought the mob was more or less gone these days. You don’t hear that much about it.”
“It’s alive and well. Just not as blatantly bloody as it used to be. Let’s think about this, bella, put it into a timeline.”
“Vittorio, I insist you talk to me.”
He glanced over his shoulder and sent his mother a smile. “Please, do sit down, Eloisa. I’ll have Merry bring you whatever you want to eat, or I can pour you a drink if you’d like, from the bar. I can make just about anything. Give me a minute. This is important.”
“As if I’m not?” Eloisa snapped. “I insist that you speak to me now.”
Vittorio sighed and turned fully around. “You have my full attention, Eloisa.”
“Stop calling me that in that horrid tone. I despise the way you say my name.”
“Would you prefer Mrs. Ferraro? Or Ms. Ferraro?”
“Stop being sarcastic, Vittorio.” Eloisa all but gnashed her teeth. “You’re putting off the inevitable. I have a few things to say to this little money-chaser. She works for Katie Branscomb, although how Katie, coming from such a good family, ever met up with her I’ll never know.”
“She’s doesn’t work for Katie, Eloisa, she is a full partner as well as Katie’s friend, which you well know. You would never use a company without fully investigating them first. You pretended not to know because it suited you. Grace is my fiancée. We’re getting married whether you approve or not.” He kept his voice very calm. Very even. Compelling. “You may as well accept my decision because I won’t be changing it.”
“That’s ridiculous. Just because she meets the criteria . . .”
Behind him he felt Grace’s sudden stillness. He was aware she would demand a few explanations he wouldn’t be able to give her. He willed her to stay silent and not ask questions. “You knew.” It was a soft accusation. Anyone who knew him, other than his mother, would have tread lightly from that moment on.
“Of course I knew.” Eloisa threw her head up, her eyes blazing with anger.
“But you didn’t say anything.”
“Because I knew one of you would do exactly this. Make a fool of yourself over her. Convince yourself you were in love. It’s not real. She may meet the criteria, but she doesn’t meet our standards.”
“I would like you to leave, Eloisa. She’s my fiancée. I am going to marry her and have a family with her. That alone should demand a little respect for her. You’re insulting me and my intelligence by saying I don’t know the difference between real and fantasy. Since I’ve had to endure your ugliness my entire life, I’m immune to whatever venom you choose to spew. However, and you’d better hear me, Eloisa, I will not tolerate you doing the same thing to my woman. She’s my choice. She’s always going to be my choice. I would like you to leave now.”
“This is ridiculous. You can’t possibly be throwing me out.”
“I am politely asking you to leave my residence and not to return until you can be pleasant to Grace. The same Grace who saved my life.”
Eloisa rolled her eyes. “I suppose you’re very grateful to her. Write a check, don’t marry her. And if you want to throw that in my face and imply that I should be grateful to her as well, I remind you that if it wasn’t for her, no one would have been shooting at you.”
“And I would remind you that had you told us about her, she would have been safe, and no one would have been shot.” He leveled his gaze on his mother’s face. He was finished talking.
Even Eloisa knew him well enough to know that look. She threw her hands into the air. “Fine. Make a fool of yourself. You boys all seem to want to follow in Stefano’s footsteps. I haven’t seen his precious Francesca. She’s not working. She just spends her time like a princess in a tower. It makes me sick.”
He took a step toward her. He had no problem picking her up and putting her out the door, but she took one look at his face and turned and strode out, without looking back.
Vittorio turned slowly back to Grace. She had the icy glass pressed to her forehead and her eyes were closed. That was a bad sign. Grace was no pushover. And she was intelligent. She wouldn’t fail to miss his mother’s accusations.
She lifted her long lashes and he was staring into her very speculative eyes. There was pain on her face, sorrow in her eyes. She’d believed in him more than she realized. It was there on her face. There was satisfaction in that knowledge, but he really detested the sadness his mother’s revelations had caused her.
“Grace . . .”
“Just tell me, Vittorio. What criteria do I meet?”
“My mother is a very bitter, caustic woman. Don’t let her hurt you.”
“Eloisa Ferraro can’t hurt me, Vittorio. You can. I need you to explain to me what criteria I meet.”
“If I can’t explain it to you?”
“I suppose you want me to blindly follow you without any explanation whatsoever. That isn’t going to happen. I suggest you tell me what she meant.”
“I think, at this time, no matter what explanation I give you, your mind is closed.”
Grace was silent. Her gaze shifted from his face to the lake. She looked so sad he wanted to gather her close to him and hold her.
“That’s true. I think I’m overwhelmed with everything, and we’re moving far too fast.” Her gaze jumped back to his. “I don’t believe in fairy tales, Vittorio. I let myself believe for a few minutes there, because I wanted it so much to be real. You’re . . . extraordinary. You really are. Some woman will be very lucky to have you in her life.”
There was no way for her to take the ring off and he was glad about that.
“Grace, don’t. My mother is very good at saying the things she knows will hurt others. It’s her special gift. She deliberately wanted you to feel as if you weren’t important or loved by me. Our life is ours, not anyone else’s. What we choose to do between us is for us alone. I’m telling you, stating it as a fact, that you’re my choice. I love everything about you. I can name a dozen of your traits right now, if that would convince you, but you have to believe in me. In us. I can’t give you that. You have to feel it.”
She tilted her head and looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. “Is there truth in what she said? Do I meet some important criteria for you? Something that made you notice me?”
“The gunshot wasn’t enough for me to notice you?”
She didn’t buy his diversion. She waited, her gaze steady.
Vittorio sighed and crouched down in front of her, eye level. “Yes, Grace, there are criteria that all of our women have to meet, and you do. Was it the first thing I noticed about you? Not even close. I saw you explode out of the trunk of that car. You nearly lit up the parking lot with your fury. There were two big men, both carrying weapons, enforcers for Miceli. There was Haydon Phillips, trying to sell you for payment of his debts. None of that mattered to you. You were willing to take all of them on at that point. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.”
“I’m not going to let you distract me.”
“I’m not trying to distract you. I’m telling you the truth. I fell in love right there in that parking lot without ever having been introduced to you. I overhead that you had taken loans out to help Phillips. At the time, I thought it was because he was your friend, not because you feared him, but regardless, to me, that showed your loyalty. Knowing you now, I know you would do something like that for a friend. Right down the line, everything I learned about you or observed made me believe you were absolutely the woman for me.”
“And those all-important criteria that make me in the running to be married to a Ferraro?”
He sighed. “You’re not hearing a thing I say. You don’t want to hear me, Grace. Let’s get you back inside. You look tired.”
She didn’t protest, not even when he cradled her in his arms rather than walk with her. He needed to feel as if he held her to him, rather than watch her move away from him. He already could feel her slipping through his fingers.
CHAPTER NINE
I’m hoping Francesca can work her magic,” Vittorio confided to Stefano as the private elevator took them from the penthouse suite. “Otherwise I’m going to lose Grace.”
“What happened?”
“Eloisa. She deliberately said some things that she knew I couldn’t possibly explain to Grace right now. I wouldn’t mind so much, I could deal with that in time, but Grace is injured and that makes what Eloisa did reprehensible.”
“She’s got to be made to stop,” Stefano said. “Seriously, Vittorio, she’s getting worse, not better. If we don’t find a way to stop her behavior, she’s going to tear apart our family. What did she say to Grace?”
“She said it to me in front of her. She referred to Grace as meeting criteria and that’s the only reason I noticed her. She pointed out that I wouldn’t have looked at Grace for any other reason. I couldn’t explain about shadows or riding to her, or anything about what we do. She hasn’t committed to me. That could be disastrous.”
Stefano stepped out of the elevator. “Francesca is a huge asset to all of us. I’m going to text her and let her know there’s a problem. Hopefully, Grace brings it up to her, so she can help smooth things over.”
“Eloisa knew Grace was an untrained shadow rider for certain. I don’t know how long she’s known, but she did. I could see it on her face and she admitted it.” Vittorio scrubbed his hands over his shadowed jaw. “Sometimes I want to strangle her. Why does she want to make our lives miserable?”
“She’s miserable,” Stefano said as they crossed the lobby of the hotel. It was beautiful, an elegant, well-cared-for space, with high ceilings and crystal chandeliers. Both ignored the sudden hush as several guests ceased talking and stared at them as they made their way to the hallway that led to the conference rooms. “Eloisa wants everyone around her to be the same. She was raised in a cold, unfeeling environment. It was all about work. She knows no other way and that’s what she believes is the right way. The only way to stay safe.”
“We have to have something to live for,” Vittorio pointed out.
Stefano’s sharp gaze leapt to his face. “You’re my steady one, brother.”
Vittorio shrugged. “I still have to have a home and without Grace, I’m back to empty nothing. Walls. Silence. You know what it’s like.”
Stefano stopped walking abruptly, just before they reached the conference room where they were meeting with the Saldi family. “Are you absolutely certain that Grace is yours? She’s not just a woman who would be suitable because she carries the genetic code we need? Francesca is my world. Your woman needs to be yours.”
“Grace is my Francesca,” Vittorio assured. “If I lose her, I’ll allow them to initiate an arranged marriage. It won’t matter after she’s gone because I’ll never have what I need from anyone else. I feel that pull between us growing stronger with every moment I spend in her company. When I’m away from her, all I do is think about her. I want her happy and I know whatever it takes to achieve that, including letting her go, is what I’ll do.”
Stefano shook his head. “You don’t let her go, Vittorio. You find a way to make her happy so that she wants to stay with you no matter what. What we do isn’t easy to understand. For someone like Grace, a woman terrorized by a man who kills anyone who slights him, perceived or not, our way of life can be easily misunderstood.”
“I’m well aware,” Vittorio admitted. “Eloisa pushed my timetable up far too fast. Grace has just started physical therapy and I planned to slowly condition her to accept our way of life, not just blurt out explanations and force her to try to accept them.”
Vittorio knew it would be impossible to explain what his family did. He was born a shadow rider and trained from the time he was two. There was no other job or interest for him. It was considered a sacred duty and no rider, if he was capable, would ever walk away from it, no matter how difficult. The life was lonely, regimented, dangerous and formidable. Now that he’d had Grace in his life, even for a short few weeks, he wasn’t willing to go back to that stark, lonely existence.
Stefano pushed open the door and the two brothers stepped inside the huge room. “You might try explaining Eloisa. Grace seems a compassionate little thing. She might be distracted for a day or two.”
