Shadow Reaper (A Shadow Riders Novel Book 2)

Riders came from all over the world to attend the funeral of Phillip Ferraro. Each family sent a representative. Every member of the International Council was there. The council was made up of retired riders from around the world. There were five at all times and it was significant that they were all present at Phillip’s funeral.

What was more significant was that the Archambault family had come in full force, with the exception of the one always secreted until the family came home. Riders in that family brought justice to any riders and their families if the laws were broken. There were five brothers and one girl, just like in the Ferraro family. Mariko was shocked to see the ruling council as well as the Archambault riders making their presence known to all the rider families. She could see that it made everyone uneasy.

Emmanuelle sat between Vittorio and Taviano. Vittorio was still pale and walked carefully, but he had insisted on coming. Giovanni couldn’t be there. Emilio and Enzo guarded him at the hospital. Stefano sat beside his mother, Francesca on his other side. Ricco had insisted Mariko sit with him. He kept his arm around her, his body sheltering hers from prying eyes–and she was well aware that her presence was shocking the world of shadow riders.

A family friend, Henry, sat on the other side of Eloisa, and Lucia and Amo sat with Nicoletta in the family section. Valentino Saldi attended with his father Giuseppi and Val’s cousin Dario. There were at least five other men in the Saldi party. Just about everyone who lived or worked in the Ferraro territory was present.

There were seventeen families in the shadow rider community after the loss of the four families in Japan. The murder of the Tanaka family had been a terrible blow, but the loss of the Yamamoto, Ito and Saito families had crippled the riders there. Japan had sent a representative from their remaining family. His name was Kichiro Nakamura, and he had trained with Mariko. He hadn’t been mean, but then he hadn’t been very friendly, either. He spent a lot of time during the funeral looking from Mariko to Ricco.

She pushed closer to Ricco, sensing his grief. The Ferraro family was shaken, no doubt about it. And angry. Stefano Ferraro was going to have someone’s head. She could feel his rage smoldering just beneath the surface–and that rage was nothing compared to Ricco’s.

She’d never attended any gathering so grim. Even with the people from the Ferraro territory attending, the family didn’t put on their calm, all-is-well faces. They looked angry. They felt angry. By the time they gathered together with the riders in the Ferraro Hotel, their rage wasn’t to be contained.

It was a long time to maintain that anger, all through the funeral, then the reception with everyone outside the shadow riding families giving their condolences. Ricco didn’t let Mariko slip away from him. Even when she had to use the bathroom, he walked her there and was waiting for her when she came out. Everyone was hypervigilant. There was security everywhere. No one tried to be subtle about it. They were right out in the open, and all of them had guns.

The Ferraro cousins had arrived en masse, bringing investigators, bodyguards and riders. They made it plain that they stood with their cousins and would remain until the threat was gone. Eventually, only the riders were left and they went to the Ferraro Hotel, filing into the large conference room. Catered food and drinks were on the tables, although Mariko noticed not too many people were eating.

Stefano waited for the room to become quiet, holding Francesca’s hand the entire time, keeping her close. When the five ruling members of the council indicated they were ready for a meeting, he brought her hand to his mouth. “You will excuse us, Francesca? I’ll have Demetrio and Drago escort you up to our home. I want them to stay with you while I’m away from you.”

“You keep them here,” she protested, leaning into him, anxiety on her face.

“We have our cousins from New York. The riders in this room are skilled.”

She looked as if she would protest again, but Stefano shook his head slightly and she subsided, giving him a worried nod. Biting her lip, she turned away from her husband.

Mariko couldn’t imagine too many people, man or woman, going against Stefano Ferraro when he had that particular look on his face. Grim. Ice-cold. Eyes gleaming with suppressed fury. It didn’t bode well for any member of the council who might think they had reason to oppose him.

“Gentlemen,” Stefano said quietly. “Please sit.” He indicated the chairs around the table and then waited until a rider from every family had taken a seat as well as the five International Council members. The riders of the Archambault family remained standing, along with the riders from the Ferraro families that had come from New York and Los Angeles. The Ferraro riders looked as grim as their cousins.

“In the history of our existence there has never been a time when riders have turned on one another. There are few of us,” Marcellus Archambault said. He was head of the International Council. “This attack on the Ferraro family was aided by someone inside our circle. There is no other possible explanation when those attacking the family members knew to shoot into the shadows.”

Beside him, Alfieri Ferraro, another council member, nodded. “This is my family. My cousins. Our family. We have to find who did this and bring justice to them.”

“Stefano Ferraro contacted us and told us a horrendous tale recording his brother Ricco’s time in Japan with our fellow riders there,” Marcellus continued. “If this is true, and we’ve sent investigators to Japan, then our world is about to be shaken. We’ve provided detailed accounts to all the riders here. Read them and leave the account on the table. Every copy must be returned and then destroyed.” He reached for his glass of water to allow the riders time to read the summary in front of them.

Kichiro Nakamura shook his head the entire time he read. He kept looking up to glance at Mariko and Ricco. Mariko moved closer to Ricco. She didn’t like the look on Kichiro’s face. At. All. From the moment she’d entered the room, he had kept his eye on her, and every time he looked down at Ricco’s and Mariko’s hands joined, he frowned. It was clear he didn’t like them together.

Ricco was very silent, his face an expressionless mask, but she could feel him so close to her. He was a volcano inside. He didn’t like any of these men sitting in judgment of him, considering he might be lying or knowing his personal business. He sat straight, shoulders wide and impressive in his pin-striped suit.

“You believe that three of the families conspired to keep this information out of our hands?” Kichiro demanded, tossing the paper onto the table. “You want us to believe that their sons murdered the entire Tanaka family?”

“Everything our investigators have uncovered so far has led us to that conclusion, yes,” Marcellus answered. “Isamu Yamamoto committed suicide after his wife died. He prepared a letter that his lawyer sent to the council upon his death. In the letter he admitted that his son, Nao, as well as Kenta Ito and Dai and Osamu’s two sons, Eiji and Hachiro, murdered the Tanaka family. Isamu, Dai and Mikio conspired to cover it up. They told everyone their boys were killed in a car accident, when in fact Ricco Ferraro killed them to try to protect the two remaining members of the family, Mariko and Ryuu. Ryuu was stomped repeatedly by Nao, breaking all his bones. Mariko fought to save him as well. She was barely three years old. Ricco fought Nao, causing his existing injuries. In the fight, Ricco was sliced several times with a sword. He has the scars.”

The riders around the table stared down at the report and then looked from Ricco to Marcellus as if somehow they could make it all go away.

“This can’t be the truth,” Kichiro said. “Those houses are respected houses. The Saito family took in Mariko and Ryuu and gave them a home for years.”

Ricco stirred then. The first time. Just that small movement brought him everyone’s attention. Mariko’s heart began to pound. He looked . . . invincible, like he did when he was shooting the attackers coming at him. Calm. Resolute. Scary dangerous. She tightened her fingers around his.

“Mariko was treated as a servant in that home. She was beaten daily by Osamu Saito. She was told she caused those injuries to her brother. Her heritage was taken from her, the legacy of the Tanaka name. She was given a new last name and told her family didn’t want her, that they’d abandoned her to the streets. The Saito family didn’t take her out of kindness.” There was a distinct warning in his voice. One that said if Kichiro persisted, they would do more than exchange words. The fact that, at fourteen, Ricco had managed to kill three promising riders and injure the fourth so severely would give anyone pause before they challenged him.

They shouldn’t have worried about him. They should have been watching Stefano. “Are you calling my brother a liar?” He looked relaxed, sprawled out in his chair, a tiger eyeing prey. His voice was very, very soft. So low they had to strain to hear it.

“Stefano,” Marcellus cautioned.

“I want to know if he’s calling my brother a liar. It’s a simple enough question.” Stefano didn’t take his eyes from Kichiro. Neither did the other members of the Ferraro family, and that included every cousin in the room. The tension stretched out until Mariko wanted to scream.

“Of course I’m not calling him a liar,” Kichiro clarified. “Ricco’s reputation has always been impeccable. It’s just the shock of finding out three of our most legendary families covered up such a brutal event and a Tanaka still remains.”

“Why didn’t Ricco’s family go to the council?” a rider from Russia asked.

“Ricco didn’t tell them. He was threatened by the three families. He was told they would kill his entire family if he breathed a single word to anyone.”

A collective gasp went up from nearly every rider.

Marcellus continued. “He was also told they would say they investigated and he had committed the murders of the Tanaka family.”

The riders looked at one another, frowning. “That wouldn’t make sense,” the Russian persevered. “All of us would have known if he was responsible; they would have brought him up on charges to the council immediately.”

“Isamu Yamamoto was part of the International Council as well at that time.” It was Kirchiro who reminded everyone, his voice thoughtful. “He served on both councils.”

“The idea that anyone could wipe out the Ferraro family is ludicrous,” a rider from England added.

Stefano stirred again, but Eloisa laid her hand gently on her son’s arm. She stood up and faced the council members. “I am not the head of my family. That falls to Stefano. But I have something to say. My child was fourteen years old. I sent him off to be trained, believing he would be safe in the hands of those riders meant to guide him. He was not. He was threatened, and he believed those threats as all children do. It changed the entire course of his life and who and what he was. Mariko’s life was changed for all time. Compensation must be made to both. Justice must be served. In the world of riders, everyone must know what happened. This I demand as is my right.”

Eloisa had thrown down the gauntlet. The council couldn’t ignore her demands. She was within her rights. More, Ricco and Mariko, especially, deserved compensation.

“The investigation is ongoing. We have not had enough time–” Marcellus began.

“You have my son’s testimony. You have a letter written by Isamu Yamamoto before he died. He waited for his wife to die and then he committed suicide.” Her tone suggested she believed Isamu to be a coward. He had been unable to face what his son had done, and he’d taken his life.

“That is true, but of course, Mikio Ito and Dai Saito have denied the charges. We will get to the truth of this matter.”

“You know the truth or you wouldn’t have given the report to the riders,” Eloisa pointed out. “Spare us the bullshit, Marcellus. My son has been through enough. When I found this out, it was everything I could do to keep from seeking justice on my own.”

“That is the job of the Archambault riders,” Marcellus said, his voice gentle.

“Do you think I care?” Eloisa snapped. “I’ve lost my husband. I’m not a young woman. Retribution by the Archambault will not deter me as long as I bring these criminals to justice.”

Stefano put a hand on his mother’s arm. Just laid it there. He said nothing, but she glanced down at it and some of the anger receded from her face to be replaced, just for a moment, by sorrow. That was quickly gone as she struggled to put her mask back in place. She sank back into her chair, looking small and tired.

“I understand how you must be feeling, but we have laws for a reason,” Marcellus said. “Those laws are very exacting. When a rider harms another in any way, justice will be served, but not before every single member of this council is convinced we have the absolute truth of what happened. This took place years ago. It is only coming out now.”

“You know it isn’t coincidence that Mariko showed up here and suddenly every family member is under attack, just as Ricco was threatened all those years ago,” Stefano said. “It isn’t the first attempt on his life. The crash in his race car was no accident. There were numerous incidents prior to such a costly and coordinated attack.”

Kichiro stood. Very carefully he rested his hands on the edge of the table. “A great injustice has been done to Mariko. No rider knew she was from the Tanaka family. I will escort her home and claim her as my bride. She will be given every respect as befitting a Tanaka. My family will welcome her. With the loss of the Yamamoto, Saito and Ito families, it makes sense for us to join together. We need Mariko back in Japan. It is home to her. She will be well taken care of.”

Mariko stiffened. The council could very well see this as a solution. Her heart thudded. Kichiro hadn’t wanted her when she had no pedigree. When she was an orphan left unwanted on the street and they thought her mother was a whore. His family would have lost it had they known he was ever considering her for a bride.

“That’s impossible,” Ricco said. He brought her hand to his heart. “I have declared my intentions to marry Mariko. Isn’t that true, farfallina mia?”

Mariko nodded. This was her worst nightmare–Ricco being forced to stand up for her. To declare intentions he could never keep. She heard the sincerity in his voice, everyone could, but in the long run, he’d never be satisfied with one woman. She couldn’t see him cheating, it wasn’t his style. He had too much integrity, but he’d never be happy. The alternative wasn’t a good one. She wasn’t attracted to Kichiro, and his mother was a close friend of Osamu’s. Her life would be a nightmare. She was too reserved to be able to stand up for herself in that environment.

There was a shocked silence. Kichiro stared at them in open disbelief. “If Mariko has not given her consent, I would appeal to the council to stop this match. We need Mariko after losing so many families. The Ferraro family is strong. I am an only child. There are no more riders from any of the other families in Japan. Without a wife to provide me with children, we will lose all riders in Japan. We revere Tanaka riders. Mariko would have a good life and can be of service to our world by providing children. The Ferraros already have Francesca to provide them with riders.”

Mariko inhaled sharply, feeling a little faint. How had everything turned so suddenly? One moment they were talking about the murders, and now she had to choose a husband and quickly.

Ricco smirked, looking more arrogant than ever. “That only goes to show Mariko she is wanted by me for far more than her ability to provide me with babies.”

Kichiro shook his head. “You have the luxury, but I don’t.”

Mariko started to put her head down. Kichiro was all but saying she wasn’t much more to him than a baby machine, but he’d sacrifice. Ricco’s fingers on the nape of her neck stopped her. One finger sliding under her hair, just as he did when he was about to start Shibari with her. That one finger alone gave her confidence to face the room full of riders. Face the council with her head held high.

The entire room stared at her. Waiting. Beside her, Ricco looked as arrogant and assured as always, but she felt his tension. Could she possibly humiliate him in front of an entire room of riders? She could always break the engagement when things had blown over, but she would never embarrass him. Not when he’d given her a glimpse of how life could be. Not when he’d given her the confidence to be a woman.

“I’m sorry, Kichiro. Although I’ve known you since we were children, we never had a relationship like that. I never thought you were even considering one.”

“I couldn’t before.”

“Before?” Ricco raised an eyebrow.

Kichiro nodded. “My family would not have accepted Mariko, but knowing she is a Tanaka has changed everything.”

“I don’t give a damn whether my family accepts her or not, she’s my choice. She’ll always be my choice,” Ricco stated. “I’m not going to marry her so she can give me babies; I’m going to marry her because she’s become my world.”

She wanted it to be that way. She knew she was important to him because he’d chosen her to do Shibari. To be his rope model. Suddenly she’d gone from that to his fiancee. He believed what he was saying, that she was his world, she could hear it in his voice. She wanted to believe it, too. Right then, she would allow herself to be his, but she had to remember leopards didn’t change their spots.

“Mariko,” Marcellus said softly. “Is Ricco your choice?”

“Yes.” She stated it truthfully. He was her choice, so much so that she wasn’t about to saddle him with her for a lifetime, but she wasn’t going to sacrifice herself to be Kichiro’s bride, either.

“Then that matter is closed,” Marcellus decreed.

“Someone is holding Ryuu hostage at an undisclosed location,” Ricco announced.

Again there was silence, as if no one could believe this matter could get any worse, but the more disclosed, the worse it seemed to be.

“I believe whoever took Ryuu is behind the attacks on me personally and my family. They have money. Mercenaries aren’t cheap. To find Ryuu before he kills him–and he will–we have to find who is behind all of this.”

“Do you believe any other family is in danger?” a rider from England asked.

Stefano shrugged. “No one else has reported any trouble, let alone anyone making a concentrated hit on their family members. We drew the short straw on this one.”

“Tell us what you need from us,” the rider from Russia said. “We’ll help in any way we can. If you need more guards for your family, you have only to ask.”

Everyone nodded, including Kichiro. Stefano regarded the riders around the large conference table. They’d come from all over the world out of respect for a rider’s fallen husband.

“I appreciate what everyone is offering, and it might be necessary to call on you at some point before this is over, but for now, my cousins are handling it. We know we’re under attack and we’re taking the necessary precautions.”

Marcellus stood up, signaling to the others. “We need to leave this family to their grief. You will all be informed of the outcome of our investigation.”

The riders stood and each gave their condolences to the Ferraro family before filing out.

Kichiro hesitated in front of Mariko. “I didn’t mean my proposal as it sounded. I was always interested in you, but my family objected when I told them I wanted to court you. I was elated when Marcellus said you were a Tanaka because, although your mother wasn’t one of us, your family is legendary and would be a huge asset. It was you I wanted, the woman, not the rider.”

The entire time Kichiro spoke, Ricco was coiled and ready to strike. He didn’t understand that Kichiro was paying her a compliment. She put her hand very gently on Ricco’s knee beneath the table, trying to send him the message to remain silent. She inclined her head to Kichiro, indicating she understood. She gave him a serene smile. “I understand, Kichiro.”

He studiously avoided looking at Ricco. “You aren’t wearing his ring and I know that is important in his family. If you aren’t certain, please consider my offer. It is a sincere one.”

Despite the hand on his thigh, Ricco surged to his feet. Since the attack on his family, he had been smoldering for a physical outlet. “You pretentious prick. Get the fuck away from my woman. You insult her and then you insult me. You’re lucky I don’t throw you out on your fucking ear.”

Kichiro drew himself up for the first time, his calm mask slipping. Before he could say anything, Alfieri Ferraro stepped between them. “This is a sad day, gentlemen, and we’re all upset. Perhaps it would be a good idea for you to leave now, Kichiro. Thank you for coming. Our family certainly appreciates it.”

It was a clear dismissal from one of the members of the International Council. Ricco subsided into his chair, no longer even looking at Kichiro. The Japanese rider nodded his head at Alfieri and then whispered to Mariko, “I hope you will be happy.” He turned on his heel and left.

Ricco tightened his arm around her, drawing her beneath his shoulder. “That man doesn’t deserve you. I might not, but at least I appreciate you.”

Eloisa shot him a glare. “You’re a Ferraro,” she reminded.

“I’m a Ferraro, a damned good rider, Eloisa,” he agreed. “But she’s taking a huge leap of faith when it comes to judging what kind of man I am.” He brushed a kiss along Mariko’s knuckles. “I appreciate it, farfallina mia. I swear, you won’t regret taking me on.”

Mariko had no idea what to do or say. It was all a farce, to save her from Kichiro. Now he had to lie in front of his family–his mother. Worse, he was very, very good at lying. She couldn’t hear the lie, and she was very good at it as a rule. Either that, or he believed every word he was saying and his offer was sincere–right at that moment. Moments didn’t last.

“I realize this is a terrible situation for you and your family, Ricco,” Marcellus said. “But unfortunately, time is of the essence. We would like to interview you and then Mariko.”

“His father was just brutally murdered,” Eloisa objected.

For the first time, Mariko heard the unrestrained fury in the woman’s voice and realized Ricco and his brothers came by their tempers honestly. Eloisa was on the very edge of her control.

“It’s all right, Eloisa. We must find out who is behind this. The sooner the council realizes I’m telling the truth, the sooner they’ll look at the members conspiring against us.” Ricco stood and looked at the council members. “We can use the smaller office right off this room. Mariko was not even three. What she remembers is mostly from nightmares. Her life has been hell, and if you want to talk to her, you’ll do it with me in the room.”

“Ricco . . .” Marcellus began.

“That’s nonnegotiable.”

To her shock, Marcellus nodded. “That doesn’t seem unreasonable, although you have to know we all would be gentle with her.”

“You’ll be gentle with her with me present,” Ricco declared, not giving an inch.

She couldn’t believe he would talk to a council member like that and, more, they’d give in to his demands. She had confidence in herself as a rider, knew she was respected as one, but she wouldn’t have had the nerve to speak to a council member so directly, let alone giving them what amounted to an ultimatum.

Ricco nodded toward his brother Stefano. “I’d appreciate you watching out for her while I do this.”

“I will be going into the interview with you. As head of the family, that is my right.” Stefano was decisive, coming to his feet, his expression grim. “Taviano, Vittorio and Emme will keep her company.”

Eloisa glared at him. “I’m still quite capable of defending my family.”

Stefano bowed toward his mother. “Of course. Forgive me.”

Mariko didn’t understand the dynamics of the Ferraro family. Clearly the siblings were close. They all seemed to almost revere Stefano, but their mother, Eloisa, they treated as an outsider–and it wasn’t because she was a woman. She watched Ricco and Stefano head toward the small office with the members of the council.

For some reason, her heart beat far too fast as she watched him go. She realized she didn’t want him to have to relive the horrors of that day or the subsequent two years that followed in the homes of the families whose children he’d killed. He would have to tell them about how he didn’t sleep for years, that instead he guarded the homes of his siblings. He would have to tell them about that terrible night when her family had been massacred by four disturbed boys. She knew the interviewers would question him closely over and over and it would be an ordeal. She realized she wanted to be there with him when he had to go through it all again.

The low murmur of conversation swirled around her and she had no idea of time passing as she tried to puzzle out the enormity of what the three families in Japan had conspired to do. She had grown up there. Japan was beautiful and she loved the country and the culture. The people she’d grown up around were very traditional and held to the old ways, unlike others she’d encountered. Was that part of the problem? Should the riders consider modernizing their training methods? Their society was very small and the ways entrenched. She believed what happened in her country could happen in any of them.

She could understand why their families felt the need to hide the truth from the world. She couldn’t understand why they had taken her legacy from her or from her brother, Ryuu. She also couldn’t understand how shadow riders could turn so severely on their own kind.

“Mariko.” Taviano finally got her attention. “Emilio told us how effective you were in t

he maze. We appreciate you helping Ricco out when we all know he’s still not one hundred percent.”

She couldn’t imagine how effective Ricco would be when he was at full physical strength. He still had repercussions from the original accident in his race car. She sent Taviano a small smile. “I’m a rider.” That said it all. Naturally, she helped Ricco.

“Are you any closer to figuring out who has your brother?”

She shook her head. “Before I went to your brother, I followed Ryuu’s trail here to Chicago. He was seen in the airport and he checked into one of the hotels. He never checked out. I went into the room and there was no sign of struggle.”

“Where did you go from there?” Emmanuelle asked, moving three seats closer.

She shook her head. “His new job. I went to the company, a software company, small but upcoming, and they had never heard of him. They hadn’t sent him the invitation or the ticket to Chicago. I tried tracing the ticket but that was a dead end.”

“You believed those you spoke with at the company?” Vittorio asked.

She nodded slowly. “I couldn’t detect any lies when I spoke with them.”

Eloisa leaned across the table, pinning Mariko with cold Ferraro eyes. “How, exactly, did you come to be with my son?”

Without hesitation, Mariko answered. “I was contacted by those holding my brother and told if I killed Ricco Ferraro, they would free my brother.”

Eloisa erupted into a long litany of curses in a mixture of Italian and English. “What the fuck is wrong with Stefano that he allowed you anywhere near Ricco? Clearly he knew this and didn’t tell me. Well, you can just go straight to hell. Don’t think for one minute that your little seduction act–and clearly you’ve seduced him–will get you my son. You may have caught his attention for the moment, because he’s intrigued with the idea that you came here to kill him, but trust me, it won’t last.”

She was shrieking at Mariko, on her feet, her face twisted with a mixture of anger and grief. Her family looked stunned. Mariko would have had great compassion for her, but she could only hear the truth ringing in her ears. A man living under a death threat his entire life would be fascinated by a woman coming into his life to kill him. To have his mother confirm her worst fears–that his interest wouldn’t last–was a heavy blow.

She rose and stepped away from the table. That’s when the reactions of the Ferraros caught her attention. The compassion lacking for their mother was now on their faces. Emmanuelle immediately went to her mother’s side despite the obvious pain she was in with her arm and shoulder in a stiff contraption. Her sons surrounded her, as if they could protect her–and keep anyone from seeing her distress–as the door to the office was flung open and Stefano strode out, Ricco right behind him.

Stefano’s face looked like thunder as he emerged–as did Ricco’s–but the moment they took in their mother, both expressions changed. Both men went straight to her. “Vittorio and Taviano are going to take you home. They can stay with you . . .”

Eloisa shook her head, pressing a trembling hand to her mouth as if she might be able to take the harsh words that had spilled out back. “Forgive me, Ricco.”

“Go home with Taviano and Vittorio,” Ricco reiterated. “Everything is fine.”

“Henry will stay with me,” she said, making an effort to lift her chin. “Vittorio needs rest and so does Emmanuelle.”

She looked at Mariko and then back to Ricco.

“Don’t.” Ricco said one word, but it was a command.

To Mariko’s shock, Eloisa nodded and turned toward the door. Despite what she had said, Vittorio and Taviano flanked her as they went out. Ricco immediately went to Mariko and wrapped his arm around her. “Are you all right? Eloisa can be vicious. She’s very upset right now and striking out. You were a convenient target.”

She couldn’t help the small step she took away from him. It was slight. Subtle even. Not subtle enough.

“Mariko.” Her name. The way he said it. That voice. The sound slid over her skin to find its way right inside of her where he wound himself around her heart. She was certain she was never going to be free of her obsession with him. Still, Eloisa’s words had caused her sense of self-preservation to kick in. It was late coming, but it was there.

She forced a smile. “I’m fine.”

His thumb brushed her chin, sending sparks of electricity showering through her bloodstream. “Any man who believes it when a woman uses the word ‘fine’ is an idiot.”

“In this case, I am.”

He flashed her a smile that didn’t even come close to his eyes. “Come here, farfallina mia.” She shifted, feigning moving into him. He wasn’t letting her get away with it. “Closer to me.”

“Come in, Mariko,” Marcellus said from the office doorway, saving her.

Ricco remained solidly in front of her. Waiting. She sighed and moved into him. He brought her in close, one hand to the nape of her neck as he bent his head and brushed a kiss across her mouth. “Thank you.”

When he did things like that, looking at her as if she rocked his world, it was impossible to believe anything but that she was his world. She let him lock her to his side, her hand on his hip, while they walked together to the office. It felt intimate walking beneath his shoulder. He was a solid presence. Protective. She understood in that moment what it would feel like to belong to him.

She found herself nervous, but she refused to allow any emotion to show on her face. If Ricco could face an interrogation, then she could as well.

Marcellus smiled at her as he courteously held the back of a chair for her to sit. She glanced up at Ricco’s chiseled features. He was back to his expressionless mask, but that disappeared whenever he glanced down at her. His features softened, his dark eyes gentled, giving her a feeling of being cherished. She had no idea what to do with Marcellus’s courtesy let alone Ricco’s protective care. She’d never experienced either.

She sank into the chair and took the glass of water from Alfieri Ferraro. “Thank you,” she murmured. “I really can’t tell you much. I’ve had nightmares all of my life, but I didn’t think it was real.”

“Have you already discussed your nightmares with Ricco?” Shaun Holmes, from England, asked. His voice was exceedingly gentle, as if she were a fragile flower.

She nodded. “Yes. Not in great detail, but he told me what happened.”

“Your dream,” Shaun persisted. “Does it change?”

“Only to add or subtract more detail. Someone wakes me up and takes me to the closet. They put my brother, Ryuu, in with me and tell me to keep him quiet. I hear screaming and threats. There’s blood. It’s running under the crack in the door.”

She was suddenly there, in that tiny, cramped closet, shaking. Terrified. The smell of blood was heavy in the air, making her gag. “Ryuu whimpered and I clapped my hand over his mouth. He sank his tiny little teeth into me.” Involuntarily she rubbed the pad of her finger over the little scars there.

Ricco slid his hand down her arm to take her hand, his finger tracing over the scars. Somehow she found it soothing.

“A big boy drags Ryuu out of the closet and throws him. He cries. I’m afraid. There’s so much blood everywhere, but the big boy is stomping on Ryuu and he’s screaming. I have to do something but I’m so scared. I rush the big boy and kick him as hard as I can the way my father taught me. It makes him very mad.”

“Stop.” Ricco’s voice was very soft. “Stop right now and come back to me.”

She blinked rapidly and found herself looking into Ricco’s dark eyes. She took a deep breath, gulping at air in an effort to try to recover. She’d been in that closet so many times. It was real and vivid and a place she couldn’t seem to ever escape. Ricco’s thumb gently brushed at the tears on her face she hadn’t known were there.

“We’re done with this. She has memories. You can doubt it all you want, but she doesn’t need to relive them for you.”

“Forgive us, Mariko.” Marcellus’s voice was gentle. “We’re not putting you through hell for our own amusement.” He didn’t look at Ricco when he said it, but he was making a point.

It didn’t seem to matter to Ricco. He’d made his. Marcellus sighed. “Are you willing to take a DNA

test?”

Ricco stirred again, and for the first time there was anger spilling into the room. “She doesn’t need to do that.”

“There is a great deal of money involved. An entire estate, Ricco. As with all families of riders, if there are no survivors, then the estate goes to the league. There will be a demand for proof from every lawyer, including hers.”

“I have no problem with that,” Mariko stated.

Marcellus nodded approvingly. Ricco pressed her hand to his thigh, his fingers stroking over her skin, making her heart beat fast.

“How were you contacted concerning your brother?”

“A note was on the floor of my room when I returned from a mission. It said they had Ryuu and would kill him if I didn’t kill Ricco Ferraro. They gave me three weeks to get the job done.”

The council members exchanged long looks. “Why didn’t you do it?” Alfieri Ferraro asked.

“A rider doesn’t kill another rider, and I certainly wouldn’t do so without thoroughly investigating him. I found Ricco to be a good man. I couldn’t trade his life for my brother’s. In any case, it made little sense to do so. All they had to do was kill Ryuu after it was done and then me.”

“Our investigators will help look for your brother. Every family will send their people,” Shaun added. “Do you believe the Saitos or the Itos are involved? And what about Nao Yamamoto?”

“I know that Nao’s parents sent him out of the country immediately after. They said it was to give him the best medical care available. He runs one of their companies and he inherited everything when his father died.”

“We looked closely at him,” Ricco said. “He seems the likeliest candidate, but he’s lived here years and has never made a move against us. Still, it’s too coincidental that Mariko, the child I saved, would be sent to assassinate me. The note was found in her room. It wasn’t mailed to her. Someone went into her home. Whoever is coming after us knows to have their mercenaries shoot into the shadows. We aren’t neglecting investigating Nao Yamamoto, but Stefano and I are making a trip to Japan to interview Osamu Saito.”

That was the first she’d heard of it and she snapped her head up to look him in the eyes. He pressed her hand tighter against his thigh. She read his silent signal and didn’t comment, but she was going to have a lot to say to him when they were alone. A. Lot.

The interview went on for some time until finally Marcellus rose, indicating it was over and they were free to go. “Our doctor will be in shortly to take the necessary tests for DNA and then we’re finished here.”

Mariko nodded. The council, like Ricco, seemed convinced she really was a Tanaka. They hadn’t said so, but she was adept at reading people, and every one of them believed her to be from the legendary family. She didn’t know what to feel about that.

She was extremely happy the rest of the Ferraros were gone when they emerged from the office. She felt drained and not able to face anyone. Only the bodyguards waited to escort them back to the house.