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)
In the years that followed, there had been many opportunities for Margo and Eugene Ferraro to tell their sons, to interact with them, to do something, anything at all to show them the family mattered to them, but they never so much as inquired about injuries sustained.
Geno had held the three of them together and proved over and over he could be relied on. Lucca and Salvatore developed an unswerving loyalty to their brother. Geno loved them fiercely, protectively. He had made it clear he was willing to lay down his life for them. His opinion of his parents was something altogether different.
He knew the others at the table, no matter how his brothers tried to cover for him, had heard the bitter, unrelenting animosity he held for his parents.
He glanced across the table at Stefano’s wife before reaching for the basket of bread. “Francesca, did you make this bread? It’s really very good.”
“Nicoletta did.”
Lucca and Salvatore immediately stared in shock at Taviano’s wife. Lucca arched an eyebrow. “You bake, too? I’m beginning to feel I need to be actively hunting for a wife.”
Francesca burst out laughing, dispelling some of the heaviest of the tension in the room. “Hunting, Lucca? Women aren’t prey to be hunted.”
“Essentially, Francesca, they are,” he disputed, reaching for the grilled vegetables. “You never know when you’re going to come across the right one. Look at Geno with the teeny-tiny ballerina there. She wasn’t easy to bag.”
“Bag? Geno bagged me?” Amaranthe gave Lucca her fiercest scowl. “And stop calling me teeny-tiny.”
Lucca responded with a grin. “You do look cute when you try to look mean. Geno’s going to have a difficult time taming you.”
“Taming me. Lucca, you’re in grave danger of getting your ass kicked.” Amaranthe narrowed her eyes at him.
“She could do it, too,” Salvatore warned. “You saw the way she moved. She saved Stefano’s life. I was right behind her, but I never saw anyone move that fast.”
“Saved his life?” Francesca echoed. “There was a vague reference to an attack on Stefano before. What exactly happened?” She lifted her long lashes and looked around the table.
There was a long silence. Her gaze locked on Geno. He knew it was inevitable that she would look to him for answers. Just as Stefano was head of the Chicago family, he was head of the New York family.
“Francesca.” He used his most gentle, cautionary tone. “These explanations generally come from Stefano.”
She laid her knife and fork carefully on the edge of the plate. “I know all of you think I’m very fragile and need protection because Stefano is so protective of me, and he demands everyone else give me that same consideration. It isn’t true. I’m extremely strong. Do you know the real reason I insisted on having children? I know what all of you thought, that I was being stubborn and wanted my way.”
“Francesca.” Taviano was the one to protest.
“It’s true,” she said. “But I consulted with more than one doctor. They told me there was no real reason why I couldn’t carry. Stefano wants children. He wants a big family. I’m his wife. I know him so well. He can try to say it doesn’t matter to him, but I know it does. I know that has always been one of his big dreams and not because he’s a shadow rider. He needs childhood to be different for his children. It took me a little while to give up working outside the home and understand that his need of me being there was more important. Once I could see what Stefano really needed, I wanted to give him everything I could to make him happy. He gives me everything. His every thought is for me.”
“You’re his entire world, Francesca,” Geno said. “He couldn’t bear it if something happened to you. He would never trade your life for children. You could still have children using a surrogate. Didn’t you discuss that with him?” He tried to be careful, to choose his words, knowing she had lost one child full-term. He didn’t want her to think he was blaming her. Stefano had explained the circumstances when he’d asked just a day or so earlier, and the baby had died just before birth. Francesca had nothing to do with it, but she would never see it that way.
She inclined her head. “We did discuss using a surrogate. But I wanted to give him the gift of children, and the doctors assured me there was no reason I couldn’t carry. It’s important to me to be the one to give Stefano the things that make him happy. I also had this idea of eventually being a surrogate myself for Grace.”
She ducked her head. “Intellectually, I know the loss of our little girl wasn’t my fault, the doctor reiterated over and over that it wasn’t, but I couldn’t help but feel I failed Stefano again. I lost several babies. I know I can’t provide his children for him and that guts me.”