“She’s good,” he assured. “We’re both good.”

“Who got her?” Stefano asked.

“We both did,” Drago said. “Vittorio was fast. Too fast for me to tell him I’d already pulled the trigger. You’re bleeding. You okay?”

Francesca was off the bed in a flash, rushing to his side. Stefano put his arm around her and pulled her under his shoulder, sheltering her against his heart. “I’m good, baby. Three dead and none of them ours. Ricco sent a warning. Has anyone heard from him?”

“He’s not picking up. Neither is Emilio or Enzo,” Vittorio said.

Francesca was fussing with his arm. “You need to get this looked at.”

“The cops are here,” Demetrio announced.

“I’ve called Vinci,” Stefano said. “Wait for him before you make any statements. The press is going to be all over this. They’ll make it out to be a war to take over someone’s territory. They portray us as criminals every chance they get. The family should brace for the possibility of being investigated.”

He wanted to get to his brothers and Emme, but he couldn’t leave without talking to the cops. His siblings weren’t answering their phones. He was going to have to get them to have another code to let the family know each was alive and well.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Exactly why were you crawling out the window?” Amo asked Nicoletta. His foster daughter hadn’t said more than a couple of words since Vittorio had been hospitalized. Through breakfast and now sitting in Lucia’s Treasures with his beloved wife and Emmanuelle Ferraro, he gave the teenager his sternest look. “You weren’t thinking of taking off, were you?”

Lucia patted his arm. “Maybe we should just drop it, Amo. She’s had a terrible night and still hasn’t gone to bed.” She spoke in her sweetest, most beguiling tone.

Emmanuelle could see why men tumbled at Lucia’s feet. She was genuine, too. That sweetness, the caring she had for everyone around her, was the reason the Ferraro family had chosen Lucia and Amo Fausti as Nicoletta’s foster parents. The teenager needed unconditional love. She needed to feel it, experience it, and know that it was still in the world and she was worthy of it. Already Nicoletta was under Lucia’s spell. How could she not be? Everyone was.

Amo shook his head, a small smile on his face, clearly remembering the times she tried to divert him from chastising their children. “Always the same, my sweet Lucia. Nicoletta, please answer my question.”

Nicoletta glanced at Emmanuelle and then ducked her head. “I’ve been worried since the truck nearly hit me that some very bad people might have found me. They would hurt you and I don’t want that to happen.”

“Thank you,” Amo acknowledged. “That was very brave of you to tell me the truth. Lucia and I prefer that you stay with us no matter what, whether these people have found you or not. We have the Ferraros to look after us. Your job is to learn as much as you can and be a teenager. Let us worry about whether or not we’re in danger.”

Nicoletta glanced at Emmanuelle with despair in her eyes. There was no going back from what she’d been through. Yes, this couple had experienced terrible heartache and tragedy with the loss of both children, one to cancer, one murdered, but Nicoletta had been given to three step-uncles living life in one of the bloodiest gangs in New York. She’d been innocent and happy until her mother and stepfather had died in a car accident. That all changed abruptly and her life had been a nightmare until a social worker had appealed to the New York Ferraro family.

Nicoletta nodded her head, again not looking Amo in the eye. Emmanuelle wanted to put her arms around the girl and hold her, but she knew she’d be rejected. Nicoletta didn’t allow anyone close to her. Around the Ferraros, she was especially quiet and refused to look at them most of the time. Emmanuelle realized it had everything to do with the girl’s past and how she was rescued. They knew. All the Ferraros knew what had happened to her. There was no getting away from it, not when she was guarded around the clock by the only people in town who knew her past. Each time Nicoletta looked at them, she felt humiliated.

She’d been unconscious when Stefano and Taviano had brought her back through the shadow tube. She woke on a private jet heading to Chicago. She’d been terrified after witnessing them kill her uncles. Lucia and Amo had gone a long way toward helping with that, but Nicoletta avoided the Ferraros whenever she could.

Emme’s bodyguard, Enrica Gallo, sister to Emilio and Enzo, stirred, just enough to warn Emmanuelle that someone was about to enter the store. Emmanuelle moved slightly to put herself in the shadows. She wore the same pin-striped suit her brothers wore – the signature suit of the Ferraro family. The shadows made it difficult for anyone to spot her immediately.

When she moved, she noticed Nicoletta’s gaze flick to her, then to the bodyguard and then toward the door. She was extremely observant. The slightest movement drew her attention. The teen took the three steps necessary to put her body in front of Lucia’s. At the same time, she reached down to straighten a wide gold-chain belt. It was heavy and could easily be used as a weapon.

It was too bad the girl hadn’t been trained in riding the shadows from the time she was a toddler. She had no idea how special she was or the gifts given to her at birth. She had amazing instincts. Emmanuelle was going to have to ask Stefano about training her. At least in self-defense, but she would make a good rider. It would be a risk to train her, but they’d already risked so much just rescuing her.

The door opened and Signora Agnese Moretti stumbled into the shop, clutching her bag to her chest, looking through the thick glasses she wore, her gaze resting on Nicoletta and then Lucia and Amo. Her mouth pursed and then firmed. She banged the door closed and marched up to Lucia.

“I’ve heard the most outrageous thing and I’ve come to you so you can tell me this rumor isn’t true. I heard” – she glared at Nicoletta – “that your wild daughter has taken a job at Theresa Vitale’s flower shop where she will be exposed to that hooligan Bruno. This can’t be true. Surely you would never give your permission for such a thing.”

Nicoletta turned bright red and her chin went up. Combat mode. Emmanuelle wanted to smile. Signora Moretti, as a rule, ruffled just about everyone’s feathers, but she had a heart of gold.

“We thought it would be good for her, cara,” Lucia said softly, her tone, as always, sweet. This time there was a hint of placating. “All those flowers. Bright and cheerful. Working here part-time and there part-time, she’ll come to know the community members so much faster. With you as her tutor, she’ll catch up fast. She’s so bright, you said so yourself – that she was brilliant.”

“Well now,” Signora Moretti hedged. “I didn’t say brilliant.”