Brielle wasn’t trying to stir up problems; she really wanted to know. She knew Elie wouldn’t treat her as less when she was working, but when they played, he would always be in charge. She liked that. Needed it. Had someone other than Dario seen them, would that man have still treated her with respect? She doubted it.
“I know I can wipe up the floor with most men,” Emmanuelle stated. “I’ve trained with my brothers, other riders and Elie. Have you trained with him? He’s so fast, you don’t see him move. Really, Brielle, his hands and feet blur when he comes at you with kicks or punches. He can stand in one place just watching you and then he’s on you and you don’t even know how he moved. I’ve seen him do it when he’s working with my brothers and they’re lightning fast. It’s good to train with him because he brings up your speed.”
“I hate to say this,” Valentino said, “but it’s the truth. I’ve had him spar with me for months now and can’t believe how much faster I’ve gotten and the things I learned from him when I thought I knew so much already.”
“He hits with the power of a fucking freight train,” Dario added. “Sometimes he moves his fist a half an inch and it’s like your entire insides turn to jelly.”
Brielle knew everything they said about Elie was the truth. She had begun to train with him until she had gotten shot. They still meditated together every morning, but training was out until she was completely healed. She was getting anxious that wasn’t going to happen for a while. She’d never had an injury that wasn’t superficial. Not really, not like this.
“I trained with him before this happened to me,” she admitted. “I was getting faster.” She was certain that was the reason she’d lasted longer in the shadows than normal.
Emmanuelle glanced at her watch and then stood up. “I think the Winslow brothers should be here by now. They were meeting Constantine in the lobby. I’ll go on down and see what I can find out.”
“I don’t like you down there by yourself,” Val objected. “Not with three of them.”
“Send the boys down. They can wander around the lobby looking all badass. They live for those moments,” Emmanuelle said, going up on her toes to brush a kiss on her husband’s jaw.
She didn’t wait, but stepped into a streaming shadow. It was a fast one. It yanked her inside and she was gone, disappearing right in front of them. Brielle had been trained from childhood never to allow someone outside the shadow-riding community to have knowledge of what went on in their world, but it was clear that both Dario and Valentino were aware of shadow riders.
“Emmanuelle didn’t tell us,” Val said, watching her closely. “We were watching the Ferraro family for years. The Saldi family and the Ferraro family have been entwined for centuries. Consequently, we have our version of the shadow mysteries. It wasn’t a difficult leap to know the Ferraros were able to use the shadows in some way others couldn’t. We also know the consequences if we don’t stay quiet. I would never betray my wife, or her family. Neither would Dario.”
“It honestly didn’t occur to me that Emmanuelle would ever talk about what her family does. It’s too ingrained in all of us not to. I just couldn’t figure out where both of you came into the picture. Sometimes, I know that even in a marriage, one of the parties doesn’t know everything. Usually, that’s their preference, but over the years, some riders have married outsiders and they were never told.”
“We’re family, Brielle, not outsiders, as you’re family to us.”
“I don’t know very much about being in a family,” she admitted. “Mine was sort of dysfunctional.”
Dario and Val exchanged a smirk and then both laughed, although neither sounded too humorous. “I believe our dysfunctional family might have yours beat,” Valentino said. “Believe it or not, Emmanuelle’s family would be considered dysfunctional if it wasn’t for Stefano.”
Emmanuelle returned a few minutes later. Again, she stepped out of a shadow quite close to Valentino. He immediately wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into him. “The two Winslow brothers were definitely preparing to end their lives rather than murder someone. They had letters on them and both had tried to write to their wives to explain things as well. When they spoke to Constantine, and he told them that Rupert hadn’t actually committed a crime, that there was proof, Rupert nearly fainted. He wept. Both men comforted him.”
She raised her gaze to her husband’s. “That’s why investigators don’t want to name suspects until they actually have all the facts. And riders are very careful before they carry out sentences. Those men weren’t going to kill Brielle. They would rather end their own lives than take hers.”
“What did you tell them?” Brielle asked.
“I just told them that Constantine was a valued employee and Stefano had been concerned when someone mentioned he was acting out of character. I had done some investigative work and discovered the scam. I volunteered to ask Constantine what was worrying him and he told me. It was fairly emotional after that. Of course, they said they’d wait. Once it comes out that the Toselli family is no more, and the threat to them is gone, I don’t think they’ll worry anymore.”
Her hand slid down her husband’s arm. “If you’ll excuse us for just a little while. I really need to talk to Valentino.”
Brielle watched them leave, envious that when Emmanuelle had come out of the shadows feeling needy, her husband was right there for her. Brielle detested the fact that her husband would be riding shadows over and over again. She knew that when he came out of them, his body would be utterly aroused and demanding. She wouldn’t be there to take care of him. Worse, when he did return, and he needed the type of sex he enjoyed the most, she wouldn’t be able to provide for him—or he wouldn’t think she could.
“One more sigh and I’m going to gag you.”
“You’re so pleasant, Dario.”
“I don’t want to be pleasant right now.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m still pissed at you.”
“Why?”
“For fuck’s sake, woman, why do you think? There was blood all over your house. Your blood. A lake of it. You died. Do you even get that? You fucking died. I saw your husband’s face when he walked through the door and he didn’t even see you die. He didn’t have to give you compressions or breathe air into your lungs. I saw his face. His world stopped, all because you can’t take a simple fucking order. So, yeah, I’m still pissed and I might be for a long time. You do something like that again, I’m locking your ass up when he’s gone whether Elie likes it or not.”
Brielle turned that over and over in her mind. Dario was still angry with her. Elie wasn’t sleeping. They’d talked it over, but he was still pacing at night. Sitting on the edge of the bed watching her sleep. He was so careful with her. Always sweet, but so careful. Was he still angry? That was a possibility. Did he even know he was? She couldn’t answer that question.
“I’m sorry, Dario. I really am.”