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 the 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.