She shook her head. “I don’t. I want to, Geno, but I can’t. It’s so hard to know that I can’t. You can’t imagine what it feels like to love someone the way I do Stefano and know I can’t give him the thing he wants most.”
Geno didn’t want to give her platitudes, not when it was clear she hurt the way she did. And he needed to learn from her. He had Amaranthe in his life. He was used to dictating, to getting his way. Amaranthe might have a steel spine, but she was soft inside like Francesca.
“The point I’m making in my roundabout way is I love my husband. I’m asking what happened, and I expect you to answer me. I’m not weak, Geno. Before I was with Stefano, I lost my parents, my sister was murdered, and I was homeless. I survived even though a madman tried to destroy me. After being with Stefano, we lost several babies. The adjustments to his lifestyle have been difficult as well. But I’m here. Still standing. Still loving that man. Again, as your sister, someone you love and respect, I’m asking what happened to my husband, and I expect you to answer me.”
Her eyes were steady on his. Geno did respect her. He admired her. There was no getting around it. He lifted his gaze to Taviano. His cousin looked sympathetic but didn’t offer to tell Francesca about the near miss on Stefano’s life. They were going to leave that to him.
“You do know Stefano already wants to beat the crapout of me, Francesca,” he said, sitting back in his chair, regarding her steadily.
“That’s exactly why I flew here, Geno.” Francesca gave him her wide-eyed, innocent, sweet, serene look. “To save the two of you from being idiots. Neither of you would win that fight.”
Lucca made a sound that could have been laughter but was hastily choked off when Geno’s cold gaze slid over him.
“Probably not,” he conceded to Francesca. It was the truth. They would have both been beat all to hell, but there would have been satisfaction in the physical combat for both. They needed that outlet. Now, with more understanding of the situation, Geno might still feel rage, but the emotion wasn’t directed at his cousin. He didn’t blame Stefano for his reaction as much. The sense of betrayal wasn’t quite so acute.
“I’ll protect you from the snarling wolf. He gets his way in most things,” Francesca admitted. “Because most of the time it doesn’t matter to me. This does. I’ll be making that very clear to him. He’ll understand.”
There wasn’t a single person at the table that didn’t believe her, including Geno. Francesca was that sweet person, the heart of the family, but when she decided on having her way, she apparently refused to back down.
Geno gave into the inevitable. He didn’t sugarcoat the details. He told her exactly what happened at the engagement party. Francesca didn’t interrupt him, but several times her gaze shifted to Amaranthe and then Salvatore. When it came to the part where Geno took the poisonous blade, her face paled and her eyes went wide, but she remained silent.
When he finished, the silence lasted for some time. Nicoletta and Taviano began to clear the table. Salvatore helped.
Francesca finally met Amaranthe’s eyes. “Thank you. Sincerely. Thank you. Stefano is my entire world. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
“Geno made it sound like I saved him by myself. I had plenty of help. Salvatore would have gotten to him, and Geno was right there. But I’m grateful I was able to keep the assassin from harming Stefano,” Amaranthe assured.
“I didn’t really have the full picture of what was happening,” Francesca continued. “Stefano did tell me that there was a series of murders here in New York and some of the victims were related to you, Geno, and to all of us. I didn’t know them, but I felt terrible for you. Then your parents were killed. Of course, Stefano came to help. But I didn’t realize there was an immediate threat.”
“None of this explains how something that took place eighteen years ago with our parents,” Lucca said, “and what Taviano experienced eighteen years ago could have any bearing on these murders. Or why these people despise the Ferraro family. How could they possibly be connected?”
“If Eloisa did kill the Boutler brothers, why wait eighteen years to strike back?” Geno asked. “And why go after my family first and not Stefano’s?”
“But they didn’t go after your family first,” Amaranthe said. “I first came across them when I was sent to Croatia to investigate rumors involving shadow riders there. The Maric family covered a large territory and things were going wrong. In the end, both parents were murdered. The parents hadn’t been riders in years. Strangely, they had abdicated when their son was very young, forcing him to take over as head of his family and head of the shadow riders in Croatia, just like Geno had to do here in New York. I don’t know the precise timing of when they stepped down, but they did step down to become greeters. They hadn’t suffered injuries, and they were needed as riders, but they refused to continue.”
Geno frowned down at her. “You told me that you’d investigated the riders in Croatia, but you didn’t go into detail. I had no idea the parents had stepped down years ago, Amara. Could it have been eighteen years ago? Thiscan’t be a coincidence. You did say you felt those riders were in danger. You included that in your report to the council. Why did you think they were?”
“I felt they were being stalked right after their parents were murdered. I had a strong feeling the murderers planned to return at some point even though I knew the immediate threat had moved to New York.”
“That sheds an entirely different light on things, doesn’t it,” Salvatore said, once again seating himself at the table. “I sent word to Lanz and Deangelo to check into when the Maric riders stepped down and left their son to take on their responsibilities.”
“But it still doesn’t make sense,” Nicoletta protested. “Why now? Why New York and not Chicago? And, I’m sorry, but I would bet my last dollar that Eloisa wasn’t the one that sought out justice for Taviano. She would have been too afraid of losing Phillip, which meant she would have no longer been able to be a shadow rider.”
“She could have gone on her own and killed them,” Taviano said.
“You know she didn’t.” Nicoletta’s voice softened. “You said yourself you don’t remember her taking any trips. Stefano would have gone after them, but not Eloisa. For your sake, I wish it had been her, but I don’t think it was and neither do you. So these people have no reason to go after your family, Taviano, if the death of the Boutlers were the catalyst.”
“I don’t see how it could have been,” Lucca protested. “Why wait eighteen years? And certainly our parents didn’t know about what happened to Taviano. I doubt the Marics in Croatia knew about the attack on him. They didn’t avenge him. How could this all be related?”
“Well, we don’t know much more about the why,” Francesca said. “But I’m with Geno. I don’t believe this is coincidence. How could it be with so many similarities?”
Amaranthe twisted the crystal water glass back and forth in her hand. “I think it would be a very good idea tohave the investigators research whether any other riders turned over their territories to their children eighteen years ago. Also, find out what happened to the other members of the Boutler family. Did they die out? Did they abandon Queensland as they grew up and simply moved away? Most families remain as shadow riders. Were they female and moved to be with their husbands? I think it would be a good idea to locate any remaining relatives and see where they are now and why they left.”
Geno agreed. He texted his investigators immediately. “I’ll ask Elie to put Brielle on it as well. She’s fast and thorough.”
“We’ll get our investigators on it, too,” Taviano said. He was texting.
“In any case, I’ll be going to work the day after tomorrow, and I imagine we won’t have to wait long for these people to make their attempt for me,” Amaranthe said. “I also have rehearsals for the performance that’s coming up very fast. That same evening. So they’ll have plenty of time to figure out when and where they want to strike.”
