Shadow Rider by Christine Feehan

looked down at her upturned face. “I don’t know if I want to ask you what the fuck that means.”
    â€œIt means you can’t act all scary, like you do. I’m used to it so you don’t intimidate me . . .” She cleared her throat. “
Much.
But that’s my point. You can’t scare her off while we’re all trying to work on her.”
    â€œYou think I’m going to scare her off, then your job is to make her see me as a good guy, the white knight.”
    Laughter broke out, his brothers first. He was fairly certain Ricco started it. Emilio and Enzo joined in and lastly,Emmanuelle. The warm, fuzzy feeling in his heart disappeared and he glared at them. “Seriously?”
    â€œNo one is going to look at you that way,” Vittorio said. “You were born with that face and you came out of the womb as mean and bossy as a snake shedding his skin.”
    He couldn’t deny the charge because it was probably true. “Fuck off. All of you.” He turned to Emilio. “Call Zio Sal and tell him we need his cleaning service immediately. Tell him to bring clothes and shoes for Enzo and you. You know the drill—everything goes. Anything that can be traced back to you. Get rid of all of it. Give it to Zio Sal and let him and his boys do their thing. I want you showered and shaved, looking good and back out on the street where you’re visible.”
    Emilio nodded. “Will do. You all need to be away from here.”
    His brothers and Emmanuelle turned toward the shadows to make their way back home. Stefano was anxious to go to Francesca, but it took a while to make his report to his parents—well, to his mother—his father never actually was there to hear a report, a necessary evil. He believed it was necessary just so Eloisa could look her child over and make certain no harm had come to him.
    He drove from the main home where his parents resided to the hotel where he stayed and then walked from there to the store where Francesca worked. Each of his brothers and his sister had their own wing in the main house, but they all maintained a personal space outside of the Ferraro estate. He had a penthouse at the hotel they owned. The suite was enormous, taking up the entire top floor. He had a private elevator that went straight to his floor and another private entrance very few knew of.
    He paused on the sidewalk, looking into the store. Francesca had her head down, but she nodded every now and then as she listened to the man standing at the cash register. Stefano recognized Tito Petrov. His father owned the local pizza parlor and Tito managed it and also cooked there. He was as good at making the pizzas as his father. He was also a bit ofa ladies’ man. He dated often and women seemed to fall hard for him. Stefano didn’t like Tito’s body language at all.
    *   *   *
    I gnoring Tito, who continued to flirt outrageously with her, Francesca smiled at the older couple behind him as she wrapped sandwiches for them. She knew they owned the small boutique three stores down. They had come in and introduced themselves her very first morning at work. Sweet. Genuine. Very Italian. They held hands when they could and smiled at each other often. She
loved
that. She considered Lucia and Amo Fausti the poster couple for romance, and considering she didn’t believe in romance, she also thought maybe they brought a little hope with them.
    She could never afford a single item they offered, all those beautiful designer dresses and silk scarves. She knew they traveled extensively to find the best designers. Joanna told her people traveled from all over the city to shop in the little boutique.
    â€œHow are you this afternoon?” Lucia asked her.
    They came into Masci’s every evening after work hours for their evening meal, Joanna had also informed her, but then, nearly everyone came into Masci’s at one time or another.