A look passed between Francesca and Stefano. She shook her head slightly and then rolled her eyes while the others laughed, but nodded as if in complete agreement. “See, Mariko?” She turned to her sister-in-law. “They’re taking it easy on you, but this is going to be your life soon. They interfere with everything. I can’t turn around without one of them underfoot, or one or more of their cousins. Emilio, Enzo and the others. Try planning surprises for your husband.”
Mariko smiled. “You’re the one we all look to, Francesca,” she explained gently. “Of course, we’re going to look out for you.”
Giovanni noted that Mariko, Ricco’s wife, used we instead of they. She’d included herself in looking after Francesca. Mariko was a huge asset to the family, a trained shadow rider, very fast and efficient. Without Giovanni’s ability to ride, she was taking jobs as well.
They rarely worked in Chicago. They were called in to work in New York, San Francisco and Los Angeles. Their work took them all over, but those were the main places they traveled. Salvatore, Lucca and Geno, three brothers and their cousins, were called in from New York if there was a job to be done in Chicago, as they had been the other night.
“Who looks after you, Mariko?” Francesca asked. “And Emme?” She looked down the table to Emmanuelle, Giovanni’s sister.
“We’re riders, honey, so they do put bodyguards on us, but it isn’t the same,” Emmanuelle said. “We were trained from a young age to fight in just about every style imaginable. You are the center of our world. You know that, Francesca.”
“What’s wrong, baby?” Stefano’s voice was soft. Loving.
There was silence at the table. All forks went down as they collectively looked at her. Her hand trembled as she took a sip of water. A distraction, Giovanni knew. She was being cautious. She shook her head and carefully placed the glass back on the table.
“Nothing. Really.”
“Francesca.”
That was all Stefano said, but they all knew that voice. When he used it, the tone was pure command and there was no getting around it. They were all capable of using that voice. They had to be, but Stefano was different. No one argued much with him. His hand went to the back of his wife’s head, stroking a caress down that length of gleaming hair.
She shrugged. “It’s just silly really. I’d like to do a few things outside of my home sometimes. Have a girlfriend to go shopping with. Go out to lunch. Work again.” She lifted her lashes just enough to see Stefano’s face. His features were expressionless.
Giovanni found his own body tensing up. Francesca had worked at Masci’s when she’d first arrived in Ferraro territory, but she had quit just before her wedding. The paparazzi had bothered her nonstop, and she’d had enemies. Stefano had orchestrated her quitting the job in order to better protect her. Giovanni looked at Stefano, waiting for his reaction.
“Baby, you know if you want to work, I’m going to be supportive of that, unless of course you were pregnant, and then standing on your feet all day wouldn’t be good.”
Giovanni snapped his head around, looking at Vittorio and Taviano. Then Ricco and Mariko. Lastly Emme. No one moved. No one ate. They waited.
“I don’t want you ever to feel like a prisoner in our home. Or with me or your family. I know sometimes it has to feel like we’re smothering you with our protection. What would you like to do, Francesca? I know Pietro has hired another woman, but he’d give you your job back the moment you asked for it. He can lower her hours and give you whatever hours you want to work.” It was a subtle reminder she would be taking a job someone else really needed.
Stefano’s gaze shifted toward Ricco just for a moment, but he took the cue. He leaned across the table toward his sister-in-law. “I thought you were doing tons of charity work and handling all the people in our territory. Are you tired of that?”
She was doing far more than her share in that field. Sometimes Emmanuelle could go with her, other times not.
Francesca shook her head. “No, it’s interesting work. I’m on a few committees and the board for raising funds for the local cancer fund. The one that helps the families through it. I think it’s important work. And I do love visiting with all the families …” Her voice trailed off.
“Honey.” Emmanuelle’s voice was very low. “What is it that’s making you upset? You told me the other day that you loved what you did. It is important work.”
“I was talking with Eloisa the other day …”
There was a swift intake of breath. Giovanni felt his stomach start to burn. Stefano’s features darkened, but he remained silent. All of them did. Waiting. Their mother could wreak havoc as no other woman could.
“No one is eating,” Francesca said rather desperately. “The food’s going to get cold. This isn’t important enough that you’re all getting upset.”
“Of course it is, Francesca,” Vittorio said. He was gentle with his sister-in-law, his voice almost mesmerizing. He didn’t raise his voice, but then Vittorio never did. He kept that velvet soft tone that stroked inside a person and made them want to comply. “Anything that makes you upset is important to all of us, let alone Stefano.”
“Enlighten us to what wisdom our parent passed on to you,” Stefano said.
Francesca’s gaze shifted to his face. “Don’t be like that. Eloisa is trying.”
“Bullshit, she’s trying,” he snapped. “Damn it, Francesca, when are you going to learn our mother is a first-class bitch?” His breath hissed out between his teeth.
Giovanni understood. They all did, all of them with the exception of Francesca. Even Mariko knew Eloisa took great pleasure in shredding others. She enjoyed ripping people into little pieces, making them cry and then walking away, superior and happy that she’d accomplished her mission.
“That’s not nice, Stefano,” Francesca said. “She’s your mother.”
“Baby.” His voice softened. “You had a wonderful mother and you’re going to be one. Our mother was never that. Never. She didn’t hold newborn babies and look down at them with love. She handed them off and stayed away until they were two and she could start their training. She didn’t cuddle them when they got hurt. Or get up with them in the middle of the night if they had a nightmare. I know Eloisa and what she’s like.”
“She loves all of you.”
“In her way, yes, she does. I won’t argue with that. But she isn’t compassionate or caring, at least not to us. For whatever reason, Eloisa chose to ignore that she had children. We’re all past that. We don’t have mommy issues. You keep trying to mend those fences, and I love you for it. We all do, but she’s going to eat you alive, and I can’t allow that.” Stefano’s voice changed completely. He used his commanding don’t-fuck-with-me-or-else voice. Giovanni couldn’t help wincing. “Tell me what she said to you.”
Francesca sighed. “She said I was rather worthless sitting on my barren ass at home all day. She asked me point-blank if I had been tested and was I able to produce children. She made it very clear that I better be able to at least have children or I was useless to you and the family.”
Giovanni gasped, and he wasn’t alone. Francesca was the center of their lives. She mellowed Stefano, the head of their family. More, she brought him joy and fun, things he’d never had. He couldn’t imagine what they’d do without her now that she was with them.
Stefano studied his wife’s face for a long time. The clock ticked. Breath moved in and out of lungs. Silence stretched to a screaming point. He caught Francesca’s chin and turned her face fully to his. “I never, in my life, heard the kind of fucked-up bullshit my mother manages to spout. I often wonder if she’s in her room all night just thinking shit up. You don’t sit on your ass. You go out in the neighborhood and visit the elderly. Men and women we’ve known our entire lives, but you just met. You do that. You bring them groceries and make certain they have what they need to be comfortable. I heard you helped old man Lozzi pay his bills when he was confused. You took him to the doctor, didn’t you?”