“Your family doesn’t exactly keep a low profile.”
“That’s true, but we do that for a good reason,” he pointed out.
Nicoletta nodded. “Well, I felt bad for him. What’s he like?”
“He’s a really good man. Tough. Responsible. He’s always the one who volunteers to take extra shifts even if that means going overseas. I like Salvatore. I always have.”
“He has two brothers?”
“Lucca and Geno. Geno is the oldest. He’s quite a bit like Stefano. Maybe a little rougher around the edges. He isn’t a man you’d want to cross. He’s loyal to the family and watches over his brothers. I know he’s been worried about Salvatore for some time. I guess all of us have been. Salvatore is extremely good-looking, and the women go after him. He’s gotten the most tricks played on him and I think that’s taken a big toll. Geno is too tough for women to try to play him. They’re smart enough to be afraid of him. Lucca appears to be the definitive playboy. He’s a player and the women go after him, but they don’t expect to win, and they don’t.”
“I find that so sad,” Nicoletta said. “I’m glad I don’t have money. It just seems to make everything a mess.”
Taviano burst out laughing. “Honey, sometimes you’re priceless. You do realize you’re a Ferraro. You’re married to Taviano Ferraro.”
She nodded and took another bite of cheese with olallie-berry jam on it. “Yes, of course, I know who I married. It’s your money and your family’s money, not mine.”
He leaned across the short distance between them and brushed his mouth over hers, his tongue licking along her bottom lip, where a trace of jam lingered. “I love you so much, woman. It’s our money and our family, so that money is yours as well.”
She actually went pale. “We’re not going to discuss this. I can’t talk about it with you. Stefano will make more sense than you, and if he doesn’t, I’ll talk to the family lawyer. He’ll have sense enough to protect you. We’re going to draw up some kind of paper.”
“Amore mio, on this one thing, you’re not going to win, so don’t bother fighting me on it. You know how stubborn I can be. Finish your fruit.”
She shook her head. “Taviano, you just don’t make any sense. And when you say the family’s money, are you including the cousins as well?”
“Each part of the family makes their own money and builds their own financial empire, so to speak, but we contribute to the overall family wealth as well. That is overseen by a board consisting of a representative from each branch of the family.”
“That’s so crazy. How do you all get along?”
“We have a branch of the family that polices everyone. They make certain everyone does their jobs. The penalty for cheating or lying or doing the kinds of things that happened in Mariko’s family, once found out, is extreme.”
“I see.”
Taviano was certain she didn’t, but he didn’t want to explain to her how things worked in their family when riders—or anyone else—went wrong. That would be for another time. Right now, he wanted their time together to be as smooth as possible.
Salvatore Ferraro stood in the shadow surveying the men wearing the colors of the Demons. Already drinking heavily, they didn’t look like men on a mission to back up their president. They looked more like men determined to get drunk and push the locals around. The locals had, for the most part, already gotten wise and left for the night. The bartenders, three of them, were old hands in the business, and clearly knew they were in for a long night of broken glass and little pay.
Salvatore noted Lucca on the other side of the bar, just to the right of the flashing neon sign that proclaimed the best beer in town. Since the bartenders were pulling the beer out of a small refrigerator in the back rather than having it on tap, Salvatore doubted the sign was true. The leader of this crew of Demons was a man named Ed, and he was flanked by two others, Carl and Thomas. The three seemed more interested in where the women were. Several times they demanded the bartenders get on the phone and call some whores down to the bar so they could have some action.
“Get it done,” Ed snarled, pounding his fist on the bar. “Otherwise, you’ll be the one on your knees.”
The other Demons erupted into laughter, one pointing to a bottle of tequila, and when the bartender tried to pour it into a shot glass, he snatched it out of his hands and just drank from the bottle.
“Pass it over, Adan,” Ed demanded. He snagged it, drank and passed the bottle to Carl.
The Ferraros didn’t want the bartender to call prostitutes. They didn’t need more witnesses to work around. Two of the Demons headed toward the men’s room. Lucca stepped into a shadow that took him directly ahead of the men sauntering toward the restrooms. He entered first and waited for them just inside the door.