Giovanni would have hit her if she’d been a man. The contempt in her voice lashed out at his woman. He had never understood his mother. She appeared cold and unfeeling most of the time. Certainly, when he was young, he couldn’t remember a time when she held him. There were no sentimental pictures of her holding any of her children. It was Stefano, a young boy, who had taken the role of caretaker of his brothers and sister, never Eloisa. Francesca had made every effort to integrate her back into the family circle, but rather than embrace Francesca, the longer it took for Francesca to get pregnant, the worse Eloisa acted.
The elevator doors slid open and Eloisa stepped inside. She turned to face her sons. “Giovanni, you have a duty to our family. You must produce the right children. You can’t marry a woman who does not have what that takes. You’ve known this since you were a toddler.”
The doors shut before Giovanni could respond. Sasha could produce riders, but Eloisa didn’t know that because she hadn’t seen shadows cast by her in the dimly lit rooms. It didn’t matter to him whether she knew or not, she had no right to make matters for Sasha worse than they already were by jumping to conclusions and raining a nasty, barbed diatribe on her.
Stefano whipped out his phone and called down to the manager. “Did I not say I wanted the code changed on my private elevator?” There was silence. “If it was changed, then how did my mother get up here?” Again, there was silence. “I didn’t put her on the list of people who could have the code.” He listened, his face darkening. “No, it wasn’t an oversight and if you want to keep your job, you’ll have the code changed again. Not a single person who is not on that list is to be given the code. If this happens again, you will not be working here. Do you understand?” He slammed the phone down.
Giovanni and his brother exchanged a long, frustrated look before turning back toward the kitchen. “Are you certain that woman is our mother?”
Stefano shot him a look that slowly turned into a grin. “I don’t know. If there are aliens, it’s possible they stole our real mother after I was born and left behind a robot. That would mean the robot is your parent, and I got the real, sweet mother.”
Giovanni couldn’t picture his mother being sweet. He’d never witnessed her sweet, not even when Emmanuelle was born. Stefano had held the new baby, looking down at her with love on his face, but not Eloisa. She’d immediately gone to the training room and had begun to work to get her figure back. None of them believed for one moment that anything said or done would change Eloisa. None of them tried anymore. Only Francesca seemed to see Eloisa’s goodness beneath her abrasive, nasty barbs. Francesca insisted Eloisa’s concern for her children was there, and that she tried in her own way to protect them. Maybe after this she’d give up trying, but he doubted it.
Sasha and Francesca, both seated at the table, were calmly drinking coffee. He could have kissed Francesca. He could always count on her, the way they counted on Stefano. She’d kept on as if Eloisa hadn’t just insulted the hell out of her and she’d made certain Sasha was put at ease in doing so.
Sasha looked up when they entered the room, her gaze moving over him and settling on his face. She sent him a small smile. “Are you all right?”
That was supposed to be his question. Giovanni felt warmth infuse his body and the tension coiled tightly in his belly ease. He hadn’t even known it was there, but Eloisa could do that to all of them—make them tense and edgy just by walking into a room.
He stalked across the room and bent to brush a kiss across her mouth. “I did neglect to mention my mother. I was hoping I’d actually have the wedding ring on your finger before you met her—or even knew about her.”
“She who must never be mentioned,” Stefano intoned in a ghostly voice.
Francesca burst out laughing. Stefano had followed Giovanni into the room, eyes only for his wife. He relaxed the moment she laughed. He took the chair across from her. “I’m just grateful I already ate before she arrived.”
“Sometimes I wonder what she thinks is going to happen when I have a baby,” Francesca said. “Does she believe that she’d suddenly turn into a doting grandmother?”
“Not a chance,” Stefano said. “That woman won’t touch one of the babies. Not ever.”
“You can’t possibly know that,” Sasha said. “Babies transform people. You put a baby in their arms and they turn to mush. It just happens.”
“Not with Eloisa,” Stefano said, helping himself to the fresh coffee Francesca had put on the table. “She gave birth, sent the baby to the nursery, summoned one of her sisters to the hospital and they carried the child out. I fed them. I was just a little boy and remember getting up because the baby was crying. She never got up. Not one time that I can recall.”
“Really?” The shock showed on Sasha’s face. Like everyone else, she had tremendous difficulty believing the reality of their lives.
Giovanni nodded. “It was always Stefano who took care of us. Eloisa rarely even showed her face, and there was hell if a baby cried for more than a few minutes. She would fly into a rage.”
“She hit Giovanni more than once because he would always guard the door to slow her down so I could get the baby outside where she couldn’t hear it cry anymore,” Stefano said.
“You couldn’t have been very old,” Sasha said to Giovanni.
He shrugged. “Ricco took more of a beating than I did. If she was really angry because the baby had the croup or something and cried at night, he was the one who had to face her.”
“She wasn’t turned into Child Protective Services? No one knew?” Sasha asked. She put down her coffee cup and looked around the table at their faces. “This is for real? And you still have dealings with her?”
It was obvious to Giovanni that she would have tried to kick his mother’s ass had she been in the room. He loved that Sasha was outraged. She was all about family, and he could see she’d take care of their children, not palm them off on someone else. In a weird way, Eloisa felt the same. Family came first with her, and he knew, once she calmed down, his mother would respect Sasha for standing up to her and for the way she felt about supporting her brother.
“She’s our mother,” Stefano said. “The weird thing was, even as children, we knew no one else could ever touch us or she’d eat them alive. She was fierce in her protection of us. Even from our father. Only she could ‘discipline’ us. She doesn’t come around that often, just enough to stir up trouble and then disappear again.”
“She doesn’t like me,” Francesca said.
Giovanni was happy there wasn’t hurt in her voice. He took the chair beside Sasha, moving it just a few inches as he did, so they were close. He wasn’t certain why he liked being near her all the time, but he did.
“She doesn’t like anyone,” Stefano said. “I know you try to see the good in her, but, baby, it isn’t there often enough to make the effort.”
“That’s not true,” Francesca protested. “You know, with her, she’s all about family. She was harsh, but you said she didn’t allow anyone else to punish you. It’s clear she doesn’t realize Sasha has shadow blood in her.”
Sasha held up her hand and both men stiffened, going alert immediately. Francesca looked horrified and put her hand over her mouth, shifting her weight toward her husband, her gaze meeting his.
“I don’t know what ‘shadow blood’ means. I do know that both my brother and I have this weird thing where we can feel other people when our shadows touch theirs. We talked about it all the time. We could hear lies, and sometimes, I could persuade people to tell me things I wanted to know. Sandlin could do it all the time. His ability seems to have amplified since the accident and the brain injury, almost as if it magnified the capacity.” She looked at Giovanni. “Is that why you’re interested in me? Because of my strange abilities with shadows?”
He shook his head, reached for her hand and pressed her palm over his heart. “I saw you in the club, in the dark. Then, the colored lights were flashing and we were moving through crowds. No shadows, remember? I couldn’t take my eyes off you and was mortified when you overheard our conversation.”
“Why is having ‘shadow blood’ so important to your mother?”