Geno quickly assessed Taviano’s body language. He was uncomfortable, but he was in control, not like earlier at breakfast. Still, he loved his cousin. “Taviano, if this is difficult and too personal for you to tell all of us, we could go somewhere private...” he offered.
Amaranthe immediately put down her fork and nodded her compliance. “I have no problems giving you privacy, Taviano.”
“It’s easier telling you, Amaranthe,” Taviano said. “You didn’t know Eloisa and I can just talk it through with you naturally. If I don’t talk about this, I’m just like everyone else. Sweeping it under the carpet so to speak. Letting them make me feel ashamed. That it was my fault. Francesca and Nicoletta are right. Stefano is taking this on himself. He just found out because I hid it from him for years. I shouldn’t have. I kept what happened in my past a secret because Eloisa and Phillip were determined to make me feel shame.”
This is making me very uneasy, Salvatore said to Geno.I trained with that same family in Italy. They were a good family. I’m younger than Taviano and went there after he did, but I had the same instructors, didn’t I? They were strict, but not nearly as strict as the Archambaults.
Yes, Geno replied. His mind wasn’t going to strict or cruel. Taviano had all the signs of a PTSD episode earlier that morning. Having been trained by the strictest of the Archambaults wouldn’t have caused him to have been thrown into post-traumatic stress disorder.
“I enjoyed my time in Italy with the family there, but when it was time for them to send me home, Eloisa had made arrangements for me to go for further instructions with Jaspar and Beau Boutler, the remaining two riders from a family in Queensland. The family in Italy protested. I overheard them telling Eloisa no one sent trainees to the Boutler family, but she wouldn’t listen to them.”
Slowly, and very carefully, Geno placed his fork and knife on his plate, bile suddenly rising. He had some expectations of what Taviano might be about to share. All along he had seen this coming, but with the knowledge suddenly blossoming in his brain, his mind wanted to reject the images crowding in. He couldn’t imagine how Stefano felt if Geno was feeling guilty and angry. He had no idea how he stayed in his chair when he needed to leap up and pace to remove the adrenaline flooding every cell in his body.
Amaranthe laid one hand on his thigh very gently.You have to breathe, to be calm so he can continue. Do it for him, Geno. The walls are beginning to expand, and the room temperature is rising.
She was right. He knew she was. She was the voice of reason—his breath of fresh air. Deliberately he concentrated on her. He couldn’t look at his two younger brothers. If this had happened to either one of them, he would have gone insane. No one would have been safe. He would have turned into the ultimate predator and to hell with the consequences.
How could he possibly blame Stefano for wanting to protect Taviano? He would move heaven and earth to protect Salvatore and Lucca. Little beads of sweat formed on his body, and he had to force himself to breathe and remain calm, to keep his expression blank just in case Taviano looked up at him. So far, his cousin kept his attention fixed solely on Amaranthe.
She was soothing. Peaceful. He felt that in her. Francesca gave off that same inner calm. Both women seemed to be able to share that calming trait with those in the room, surrounding them with such tranquility it helped to level out the emotions despite the things Taviano was revealing. Geno realized what an asset Francesca had been to Stefano and what Amaranthe would be for a man like him. What was he giving her of equal value in return? What did any man give his woman that was of equal value?
Geno.Just his name. Breathless. Loving. The way shewhispered it to him. As if he was her everything, the way she was to him.
“The two men, Jaspar and Beau, picked me up at the airport and drove me to their home in the middle of nowhere. I had no means of communicating with my family. Eloisa told me I had to be with them for three months. Stefano had no idea I was there. I was cut off from the world and terrified. The men were in their late forties, and the moment I saw them, every instinct I had for self-preservation kicked in. I wanted to turn around and get back on the plane.”
“Taviano,” Geno cautioned. “You don’t have to continue if this is too difficult.”
For the first time, Taviano met his gaze fully. “Men never want to admit they were molested, Geno. Sometimes, as in my case, their fathers don’t want them in their family. The things those men did to me for those three months were horrendous. On top of that, I was terrified they were going to kill me. They certainly threatened me with death if I dared to tell anyone. I turned ten when I was with them. It was one of the worst days of my life.”
There was a stunned silence. Salvatore and Lucca had put down their forks and just sat frozen at the table as if unable to process the things Taviano was telling them.
“When I was able to go home, the moment Eloisa came to get me, I did tell her.” For the first time, Taviano’s voice changed. A note of bitterness crept in. “She had no sympathy for me. If anything, she was appalled that I hadn’t been able to stop them. She didn’t touch me and in fact told me to stop crying. It was a very silent plane ride home. I wasn’t to talk to Stefano if he called. She had to speak to Phillip before she made any decisions.”
“My God,” Lucca burst out. “I knew Eloisa was a cold, unfeeling, heartless bitch, but seriously?”
“Lucca, honey, that isn’t helping,” Francesca said gently.
“I’m hearing this for the first time,” Lucca reminded, pressing his fingertips to his eyes. “I love my cousin. I wantto go find these people and rip them to shreds. I can imagine how Stefano feels. Taviano. Man. I’m so sorry. Had I known, I would have done my best to be there for you.”
Nicoletta’s smile was gentle. “I love that he has all of you.” She switched her attention to Amaranthe. “I didn’t understand family until I allowed myself to believe in the Ferraro family. Like Taviano, I was a victim of rape. Stefano and Taviano saved my life and, really, my sanity. I didn’t trust anyone, and I detested myself. They were very patient with me.”
Her smile included Geno, Salvatore and Lucca. “It took a very long time before I was nice to anyone including Geno, maybe especially Geno, because he scared me, and he was here in New York. I associate New York with everything bad, but it was his family that persuaded Stefano and Taviano to come get me.”
Geno knew Nicoletta was diverting attention from Lucca and Salvatore, giving them time to process the things Taviano had revealed. She was also reassuring Amaranthe that the Ferraro family may have had a fight, but they were well worth the time and trouble in the end. Women. They were extraordinary.
“Phillip was so disgusted with me that he didn’t want me in his sight,” Taviano continued. “He threatened to leave Eloisa, to divorce her, if she didn’t send me away.”
Geno was shocked. Truly shocked. He had never liked Phillip Ferraro. He certainly hadn’t respected him, but it had never occurred to him that he would turn his back on his own son.
“Eloisa convinced him to stay if he didn’t ever have to deal with me. She promised Stefano would never be told, there would be no counselling, and no one would ever know. Then she threatened to send me away where no one would ever find me if I said one word to anyone. Phillip never looked at me or spoke to me again. I stayed out of their way and could barely bring myself to speak to Stefano. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn’t find out what. Iwasn’t going to risk getting totally banned from my own family.”
Another silence ensued. Taviano ate his spaghetti calmly. Geno glanced at Francesca. She looked as if she might cry, but she managed to find her meal very interesting. His brothers took their cue from her and ate as well. For him, the usually delicious food tasted like cardboard. If Eloisa had been alive, he might have hunted her down and strangled her.
“What happened to the two men?” Amaranthe asked. “Surely your mother at least asked the Archambaults to investigate.”
“I heard her tell Phillip she was going to, but he forbade her. He didn’t want anyone to know that his son had allowed men to play with him and use him as a toy.”
Geno felt rather than heard Amaranthe’s swift intake of breath. She dropped her hand to his thigh and pressed her fingers deep into his muscle.
