Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 126060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Jean-Claude and the Archambaults are responsible for policing the riders. Someone has to do it. No wants to do it, or likes it, but it’s a necessary job, just as the council must have one or two riders capable of policing the Archambaults. Jean-Claude’s problem has nothing to do with power and everything to do with genetics. If he can’t find any riders to do that job, what happens then? You can ask Stefano that question. I’ll bet he’s already thought of it because he’s talked with Jean-Claude on many occasions.
How do you know that?
I’ve been there when Jean-Claude was on the phone with him. Your cousin is very well respected. I believe, but don’t know, Jean-Claude consults with him.
He’s brutally hard on the riders he trains.
Geno, think about it. If he’s sending riders out to go up against other shadow riders who are fast and experienced, to give them the best chance, they have to be stronger and faster. When I find a dancer with excellent potential and they want a career, I admit, I work them harder than anyone else. Dancing is a grueling career. It’s physically hard on the body and takes a tremendous amount of discipline. If they don’t have what it takes, they need to know. Jean-Claude needs to know when he trains his riders that they can survive.
Geno may be the most protective man in the world, but he was highly intelligent and he could understand exactly the problem Jean-Claude was running into. Like every family, there were few female riders having children. The future looked grim for all the rider families.
Geno swept his arm around her. “I didn’t think about that.”
“Perhaps you should amend your bloodthirsty ways just a little bit.”
Geno gave her his fierce, blackest scowl, which could stop anyone in their tracks.
Amaranthe’s laughter escaped. She couldn’t help it. “You’re trying to look intimidating, but everyone here knows you, and I don’t think it’s working.”
The moment she began laughing, all conversation ceased and she was the center of attention. Apparently, no one laughed when Geno gave them his death stare. She pressed her lips together to try to contain her laughter.
Glancing up at him, she fluttered her eyelashes. “I’m sorry, am I being disrespectful? Should I apologize?” She whispered it just loud enough that the others could hear.
“Knock it off, you little hellion. At least pretend to behave. Do you see how much trouble I have with my brothers? You start in and I lose all credibility. Don’t make me laugh.”
“She made you smile,” Lucca said.
“I didn’t smile,” Geno denied, glaring at his brother.
“You did.” Salvatore backed up Lucca. He looked around the table. “You all saw that. She made him smile.”
“He’s right, Geno,” Emmanuelle said. She grinned at her cousin. “I thought maybe your engagement was for show, but now I think I was wrong. Not only did you smile, but when you look at her . . .”
Geno glared at her. “Don’t say it.”
“What?” Emmanuelle challenged. “That you look like you’re crazy about her?”
“Here it comes, Geno,” Dario said. “Emme is a nuisance that won’t go away. Once she has you in her sights, she’s like one of those vicious little terriers that grab at your ankle and won’t let go.”
Emme snapped her teeth at Dario and laughed. “Admit it, Dario, you’re terrified of me.”
The door opened, and four servers came in to take their orders, two men and two women. They split up, coming to either side of the table and working their way very efficiently down from either end. The room immediately went quiet as all of them studied menus and gave their orders.
Amaranthe realized they watched the servers just as carefully as she did. The feeling of malice had grown over the last hour. It didn’t increase when the servers entered, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to be alert. Although the room was filled with targets, the main ones were Geno, Stefano, Salvatore and Lucca. Four primary targets. If she was guessing, either Geno or Stefano would be an assassin’s dream goal.
Are you familiar with these servers, Geno? None of them are new, are they? In her opinion, it would be ludicrous to allow an unfamiliar person into the room with so many targets available to them.
They’ve all worked in the restaurant for at least eighteen months.
That didn’t alleviate her worry. The troubles in Little Italy had started months earlier.
The Ferraro family acted perfectly normal, interacting with the servers as if they really were at an engagement party and ordering food and drink, not in the least worried their lives might be at risk. She did the same, easily playing the role. She was the ballerina everyone saw, looking delicate and fragile beside Geno. Each time he spoke to her, she would gaze up at him adoringly. That wasn’t difficult to do.