She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the killer in him, because it was right there, exposed, his eyes flat and cold. Impersonal, when she could never be. She could kill Barry Anthon, but she could never be that objective or detached about it. She might regret taking a life later. She didn’t know, but she feared she might.

There was silence in the room. Waiting. Stefano was patient. His revelation came as no surprise. She’d known all along what kind of man he was. He controlled his world and would expect to control his household—especially his wife. A million objections ran through her mind, but she really didn’t feel them. She knew Stefano now and she knew him to be a fair man. He wouldn’t be a tyrant or dictator, but he would definitely expect her to follow his lead in their marriage.

Her eyes searched his. His gaze was steady. He didn’t even blink. She had no doubt that he would take care of Barry Anthon, but he would do it safely. Much safer than she could ever manage.

“I hear you, honey,” she said softly. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Sit between Ricco and me. Keep your hand in mine. No matter what he says or what any of us say, you stay quiet. Try not to look at him triumphantly, or with anger. If you can’t do that, and I don’t expect you to be a great actress, then just keep your eyes down. Barry would never buy a change of heart from you, but don’t go as far as open hostility. We aren’t quite ready to take him down. If things are too difficult, look to Emmanuelle. She’ll pull you out.”

Francesca took a deep breath. Inhaled Stefano. She feared once Barry entered the room she wouldn’t be able to breathe properly. She didn’t want to take the chance of drawing him into her lungs. He was in her nightmares; he didn’t get anything else from her.

She took a slow look around her at Stefano’s siblings. All of them stood as still as statues. Beautiful, gorgeous specimens of human beings, tough and dangerous, waiting for her signal, completely prepared to protect her at any cost. Her gaze drifted back to Stefano’s face. The angles and planes could have been immortalized in stone. She saw everything there, everything she ever wanted.

“Okay.” She hesitated and then was compelled to issue a warning. “Barry Anthon is a monster. He’ll give you his innocent face and all the while plan to stab you in the back.”

“We have a lot of practice at this, Francesca,” Emmanuelle reassured. “We’ve been playing to the public for years. We cultivate the paparazzi, feeding them the stories we want them to publish, giving them the pictures and images so we’re controlling everything for our own purposes. We’ve got this.”

“Barry is on the racetrack, trying to throw his weight around frequently,” Ricco added, his voice low, contemptuous. “He likes to be the big man, but let me just say this, little sister: that poor excuse for a human being has nothing on us when it comes to manipulation or playing to the camera. He’ll believe us. Just follow our lead and look to us if you get in trouble. You’re famiglia. Sacred to us.”

She was finally getting that the entire Ferraro family actually felt that way and it gave her a very much needed warm feeling. She smiled at them all, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, grateful to them. “I really appreciate you all.”

The cold, frozen place inside of her that knew Barry Anthon would try again to destroy her was beginning to thaw a little. “I don’t actually believe he’s that afraid of me or the evidence I have against him. That’s one of the reasons I didn’t take Cella’s phone to the FBI or another law enforcement agency. There’s evidence of wrongdoing, but nothing really connects him other than his handwriting. Any competent lawyer would get him off if that’s all they had against him.”

She pushed a hand through her hair. “I think Barry likes terrorizing people. It gives him a feeling of power. He likes destroying lives just because he can. Just like he wants women to fall in love with him so he can destroy them that way.”

Ricco and Stefano exchanged a long look. Ricco grinned. “You’re correct, Stefano. She’s not only beautiful—she’s a gift.”

Francesca had no idea what that meant, but it was sincere and made her blush.

“That’s exactly right, Francesca,” Stefano agreed. “He’s a sociopath. He can be charming to get his way, but anyone who crosses him is going to be mowed down one way or another. He’s been destroying others ever since he was a little boy. I think his own mother is afraid of him. If he hadn’t been born into the Anthon family with their money, he’d already be in jail.”