and Eloisa, listening to every word the Saldis had to say to one another. If they, in any way, were responsible for the attack in the Ferraro hotel, and they talked about it, the Ferraros would know. If not, their speculations might reveal answers.
“It’s getting a little dicey,” Giovanni said. “As if Phillips wasn’t enough to worry about, we’ve got this shooter and the Saldis.”
“Miceli was lying his ass off,” Emmanuelle whispered, her voice very low. “I think Giuseppi was very genuine, but then I’ve always liked him and Greta, so maybe I’m prejudiced. He hasn’t been paying a lot of attention to what’s going on around him since Greta got sick.”
“Has Val been taking over?” Vittorio asked her the hard question.
Emmanuelle’s chin went up and for the first time she looked across the room at Val. Their eyes met, but she didn’t look away. “I wouldn’t know. Since I heard him tell another woman that he’d been ordered to make me fall in love with him but really, did she think he wanted a spoiled baby who didn’t know jack about sex, I haven’t had anything to do with him.”
Vittorio froze. Very slowly he turned his head to look at the man who had shattered his sister’s heart. Ferraros notoriously fell in love once. Right or wrong, Valentino had been Emmanuelle’s choice. To do such a cruel thing would never occur to any of them.
“He actually said that? Those words?”
“Vittorio,” Emmanuelle cautioned. She put a deterring hand on his arm. “I told you this before.”
Vittorio exploded into action, throwing Saldi bodyguards out of his way to reach Valentino Saldi. He was like a fierce, destructive tornado. Trained in hand-to-hand combat, in every style of fighting, he went through the bodyguards easily, getting his hands on Val in less than a second, his fists and feet doing damage before the other man had a chance to raise a defense. He had his opponent against the wall, slamming his fist into him repeatedly before Dario reached him to try to get him off Val. Dario went flying, and Vittorio hardly had glanced at him.
“Stop.” Giuseppi stood. An imposing figure. A voice of absolute authority. “Vittorio. Val. Stop this now. There can be no fighting between us.”
Vittorio was always aware of everything around him, even when he was in the midst of annihilating an enemy, but nothing was going to stop him, not even Giuseppi, whom he had some respect for. He wanted to smash Val into the ground. Beat him into a bloody pulp. He wouldn’t have stopped, but Ricco caught his bloody fist in midair before it could once again slam into Giuseppi’s heir’s face.
“Enough, Vittorio. He’s had enough.”
“It’s never going to be enough as far as I’m concerned,” Vittorio said, contempt dripping from his voice. Holding Val up, he smashed his fist into his ribs.
“Vittorio, he’s not worth it,” Emmanuelle said softly, laying a restraining hand on his arm. “Please stop.”
Vittorio instantly stepped back, allowing Val’s body to slide down to the floor. Not even looking at the fallen man, he turned, taking Emmanuelle with him, to go to Giuseppi. “Forgive me, Giuseppi. It is a matter of family honor.”
Giuseppi had to be the one to have ordered Val to seduce Emmanuelle, but he still looked puzzled as his gaze moved from his son to Emme. Dario and Angelo crouched beside Valentino.
“Do you need an ambulance?” Ricco asked, his voice strictly neutral.
Giovanni handed Dario a bucket of ice and a cloth.
“No. We’ll take care of this,” Dario snapped, glaring at Vittorio over his shoulder, the promise of retaliation on his face.
“See, Giuseppi,” Miceli said, his voice low, but carrying. “There is no peace between our families. There is no reason for this attack.”
“There was reason,” Val said, his voice husky and edged with pain. “Just leave it alone.”
Vittorio couldn’t give a damn what the Saldis thought or whether or not Val acted like a man and took what was coming to him. No one was going to treat Emmanuelle the way Valentino had and get away with it. As far as he was concerned, the Saldis were the enemy and always would be. In his opinion, a war was brewing between the two families and there was no reason to pretend it wasn’t.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Grace glanced down at Vittorio’s hands as he reached for her elbow to help her up. Her breath caught in her throat. “Vittorio.” She breathed his name, shocked at the smashed skin and knuckles as well