“As well as can be expected with a shattered shoulder.”
“I understand she works for the event planner. Martina uses the company for every charity or party she throws. She’s met Grace.”
“How is your wife?” That was safe enough. If the Saldis did have any psychic gifts, and it was entirely possible, Vittorio wasn’t going to say anything that might be heard as a lie. Martina Saldi was a good woman. Vittorio had met her at numerous functions and she was always unfailingly polite to everyone. Even to Eloisa, who could be abrasive.
“Fine. Fine. She laments every day that our sons haven’t married and done their duty to provide us with grandchildren.” He waved his hand toward his sons, who had entered behind him.
Dario Bosco, Miceli’s oldest, often worked as the primary bodyguard for his cousin, Valentino. His other two brothers, Angelo and Tommaso, spread out a little, taking up positions that didn’t seem to be threatening, but would better protect their father and uncle should it be necessary.
“Our mother often says exactly the same thing,” Stefano said. “I believe Martina and Eloisa have often had a conversation about grandchildren.”
“Greta wished to see our grandchildren,” Giuseppi mourned and sank into a chair to the right of the head of the table, exactly where Stefano had planned for him to sit.
The head of the Saldi family looked and felt so sorrowful, Vittorio felt sorry for him. Everyone who knew anything about the Saldi family knew Giuseppi Saldi was in love with his wife.
Miceli put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and patted just before he took the chair next to him, facing Taviano and Vittorio. Ricco took the chair directly opposite Giuseppi. Giovanni took the chair directly across from Miceli. His body was nearly, but not quite, in one of the larger shadows cast by the chandelier overhead. Emmanuelle walked around the table, head up, royalty deigning to be with those far beneath her, coming around to take the seat beside Taviano.
Valentino took the chair directly opposite her, leaving two chairs open between Miceli and himself. Miceli’s two sons, Angelo and Tommaso, immediately filled between their father and cousin, leaving Dario standing. Vittorio didn’t like that Val’s cousins were all but smirking when they looked at Emmanuelle, but she didn’t appear to be in any way bothered by their looks, so he kept silent. This was Stefano’s show.
Giuseppi took several food items and poured himself strong coffee. The others, on both sides of the table, followed suit. Vittorio didn’t feel like eating. Sorrow was coming off Giuseppi in waves, but something else, some other strong emotion had crept into the room. The tension in his belly coiled, not like knots, but like a snake, waiting to strike. He couldn’t tell where the source of danger was coming from, but it was in the room, spreading across the table and swirling around his brothers like a cloak of doom.
Stefano stood at the head of the table, his coffee cup close. “Thank you for taking the time to come to the meeting, Giuseppi. I know that every minute away from Greta is difficult for you.”
“I felt this was important, Stefano, to clear up any misunderstandings that have occurred between our two families,” Giuseppi said. “I explained to Greta and she agreed with me. We might have differing points of view, but we have always been allies with one another when necessary.” Deliberately he referred to a terrible attack on the Ferraro family—he’d sent his men to aid them. Of course, at the time, his son was in the line of fire as well.
“It has come to our attention that one of our employees at the nightclub has been working for the Saldi family. We have several men and women who have worked for us for years. Martin Shanks has always been a trusted manager and considered a friend. Timothy Vane is his assistant, also a trusted employee.”
Vittorio watched Miceli and Giuseppi closely as Stefano talked. Giuseppi ate his food calmly but listened attentively. Miceli dropped his hand under the table several times and Vittorio envisioned him whipping out an automatic and spraying the entire Ferraro family with bullets. He felt that same tension coiling in his brothers, but none of them showed it, their faces expressionless as they ate from the abundance of food and drink.
“The cameras had been erased both in the parking lot and inside the club, but fortunately, we have cousins who are amazing