Val was silent a moment, taking a careful look around, even looking up, once more scanning the room for any hidden threat. He studied Stefano’s face, and then looked at Emmanuelle, as if she might give him answers.
“Don’t look at her,” Vittorio cautioned. “Worry about yourself, not your family.” He kept his tone low and mild, but there was a menacing promise in every word.
Val continued to study Emmanuelle’s face. Vittorio glanced at his sister. He was proud of her. She didn’t bend. Her shoulders remained straight, no expression on her face, and she looked right through Val.
Val’s gaze shifted to Vittorio and then touched on each brother. He didn’t look intimidated, but he did look upset. He shook his head and then glanced over his shoulder. “We’re good.”
It was difficult not to respect Valentino Saldi. In the midst of the hostility he couldn’t help but feel emanating from the Ferraro family, he still trusted them enough to call in his adopted father. It was clear he loved Giuseppi and would defend him fiercely, but even if war was coming between the two families, he wasn’t about to back down from trying to stop it.
Giuseppi Saldi entered. He was a man in his early sixties, in good shape. His black hair was streaked with attractive silver. He looked worn. Vittorio had never seen him look so beaten. He wore sorrow like a cloak. As a rule, Giuseppi could take over a room. He usually had a smile and his dark eyes were laughing. There was no laughter whatsoever in him. He went straight to Stefano and held out his hand. Stefano immediately shook it and indicated the conference table.
“I appreciate you meeting with us, Giuseppi, especially under the circumstances. We were so sorry to hear about Greta. I hope she’s comfortable?”
Everyone knew Greta was the love of Giuseppi’s life. She was in stage four pancreatic cancer, and Giuseppe spent all of his time with her. For him to take the time to come to the meeting meant it was extremely important to him.
Giuseppi nodded several times. “She was happy to see Emmanuelle.” The man turned to look at her. “Thank you for going to see her. It meant a lot to her.”
Emmanuelle inclined her head. “Greta is very loved by everyone who knows her.”
Valentino swung around, looking from his adopted father to Emme. She didn’t even glance his way.
Giuseppi smiled at her and turned back to Stefano as his brother entered, his brother’s three sons behind him. “Pay no mind to Miceli. He’s a hothead.” It was an attempt at the humor he’d always shown.
Stefano accepted Miceli’s handshake. “As is Taviano. We’ll keep the two of them apart.”
Miceli laughed. “He’s been saying that since I was four. Now I’m sixty and he thinks I haven’t outgrown that trait.” He turned to Vittorio. “Before we start this meeting, I have to formally apologize to you. I had no idea Grace Murphy was your fiancée. No one knew of your engagement. I certainly have no idea what Ale and Lando were doing at your nightclub.”
Vittorio, like all shadow riders, could hear lies. Miceli Saldi was lying. The look of apology on his face appeared sincere. His expressions and inflections were perfect, but he was lying. Vittorio studiously avoided looking at any of his brothers or Emmanuelle. They would hear it, the note that was just off enough to warn them the man was a blatant liar.
“How is she doing?”
“As well as can be expected with a shattered shoulder.”
“I understand she works for the event planner. Martina uses the company for every charity or party she throws. She’s met Grace.”
“How is your wife?” That was safe enough. If the Saldis did have any psychic gifts, and it was entirely possible, Vittorio wasn’t going to say anything that might be heard as a lie. Martina Saldi was a good woman. Vittorio had met her at numerous functions and she was always unfailingly polite to everyone. Even to Eloisa, who could be abrasive.
“Fine. Fine. She laments every day that our sons haven’t married and done their duty to provide us with grandchildren.” He waved his hand toward his sons, who had entered behind him.
Dario Bosco, Miceli’s oldest, often worked as the primary bodyguard for his cousin, Valentino. His other two brothers, Angelo and Tommaso, spread out a little, taking up positions that didn’t seem to be threatening, but would better protect their father and uncle should it be necessary.
“Our mother often says exactly the same thing,” Stefano said. “I believe Martina and Eloisa have often had a conversation about grandchildren.”
“Greta wished to see our grandchildren,” Giuseppi mourned and sank into a chair to the right of the head of the table, exactly where Stefano had planned for him to sit.
The head of the Saldi family looked and felt so sorrowful, Vittorio felt sorry for him. Everyone who knew anything about the Saldi family knew Giuseppi Saldi was in love with his wife.