Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 148612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 743(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 743(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
She had fallen in love. The curse of every Ferraro—they fell in love once and never again. She had very bad taste in men, and her choice had turned out to be a liar and a cheat, and worse, he’d been playing her all along. The pain was still excruciating. Sometimes she could barely breathe, it hurt so bad, but she was a Ferraro and a rider, and she had purpose.
Elie never said what happened—why he had come to Chicago and said he would accept an arranged marriage. By turns there was anger, guilt and pain in him. Of all her brothers—and Emme had six—Elie reminded her most of Stefano. He could be very bossy. Very arrogant. He had charm, but beneath that charm was pure steel.
“I think Sasha and Giovanni are exhibitionists at heart. You don’t dare go to their house, because they aren’t going to be indoors. If you walk up to their car, they might be going at it in their back seat, or front seat. They’re both crazy. Sasha has no inhibitions whatsoever. I called down the elevator once, and he had her pinned against the wall right there. Did he stop? No. He told me to shut the doors and go away.”
Elie laughed. “Yeah, I actually had a little incident with Gee and Sasha once, but I thought it was just me. Caught them going at it in the parking garage. It’s private, but still.” He smacked her hand as she scooped up olives faster than he could get at them. “Woman, that’s going to cost you.”
“You’re lucky it was just once. They’re very inventive.”
“And Vittorio?” Elie lifted one eyebrow. “Grace is as sweet as they come. Well, other than Francesca. Although she’s hell on wheels in that event planning business of hers.”
“Vittorio is very dominant with Grace. He takes excellent care of her. Grace adores him and gives him anything he wants. It drives Eloisa right up the wall. She thinks Grace is a pushover because she doesn’t oppose Vittorio on much. I think Grace brings him much-needed peace, and I love her for that.”
“What you’re really telling me is that Vittorio is a bondage kind of man.”
Emmanuelle rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to say that out loud in a public place ever. Sheesh. He’s my brother. I’m going to pretend I never heard that word.”
Elie flashed another grin. “No wonder I fit in so well with your family. Bondage. Exhibition. Shibari. Having my way whenever and however I want it. Yeah, I fit.”
She glared at him. “Shibari? What do you know about Shibari? Don’t tell me you actually knew what Ricco did all along?”
“Of course. He’s a proven artist. One of the best. I’ve been interested in it for a long time and have gone to him and his mentor since I first came here. I was practicing when I was in Paris.” He sent her a quick grin.
“I’m covering my delicate ears. I don’t want to know anything else you do.”
Elie laughed, but his eyes didn’t light up. They stayed dark, almost lifeless. She hated that for him.
He changed the subject. “Taviano and Nicoletta? They just got married.”
“I honestly have no idea, but I imagine he isn’t any different from my other brothers, although he has to be gentler with Nicoletta.” Her brothers were all very dominant men. Shadow riders had to be, and when one came out of the shadows, the hormones and adrenaline raged. The combination was a very powerful aphrodisiac. She experienced it all the time.
Riding the shadows was extremely dangerous. Moving from one place to another at breakneck speed. Choosing the right tube and ending up at the correct address, usually in a city far from one’s own, in order to bring justice to a criminal who otherwise would get away with a major crime. There was no doubt that shadow riding was both exhilarating and dangerous.
They had lost Ettore, her youngest brother, in the shadows. Stefano had gone in after him, found his body and brought him out. He had warned Eloisa over and over that Ettore had no business in the shadows, that his lungs couldn’t take it, but in their family, imperfections weren’t tolerated. Ettore had been forced to work out longer and harder, to prove himself worthy of being a Ferraro. Had Stefano been aware of what their mother was doing, he would have put a stop to it, but Ettore had never told him. He had practiced and practiced and, in the end, his frail body hadn’t held up under the terrible severity of the shadows.
Emmanuelle leaned toward Elie, taking a chance. Looking at him directly. “Are you going to tell me what you actually did, Elie?” she asked softly. “You don’t have to, but I think you should tell someone, and you know I’ll love you no matter what.”