Bruno bobbed his head again. “Yeah. Yes, Mr. Ferraro,” he corrected himself when Ricco continued to stare at him. “She’s good.”

“You good? You staying out of trouble, because you know, life can get really difficult when you’re stupid and you forget who your family is. Famiglia is everything. I wouldn’t want you to forget that. Not for a moment. It could get . . . rough.”

The boy actually paled. He kept bobbing his head, until Francesca feared he might actually break his neck. Ricco was clearly issuing a warning and Bruno was taking it that way. She found herself shivering.

“Bruno”—Ricco said his name quietly—“I want to hear your answer. Out. Loud. You won’t forget what famiglia is, right? You know you need a job, you need anything at all, your family is where you go. Not to outsiders. Your grandmother took you in, raised you right, sacrificed for you. She deserves the utmost respect at all times from you. Am I right, or what?”

The boy swallowed hard. “You’re right, Mr. Ferraro. I’m going to work next week. Still a little sore from the . . .” He broke off when Ricco raised an eyebrow, looked around the room and then said, “Accident. But I can start work Monday and I’ll be bringing home my pay to help out Nonna.”

Ricco sent him a small smile. “Good. You need anything, you call. Stefano gave you the number, right?”

Bruno winced at Stefano’s name, but continued bobbing his head. “Yeah. I mean, yes, Mr. Ferraro.”

Ricco dismissed him by turning to Francesca and leaning close to her. The boy stood awkwardly for a moment before giving his order to Pietro.

“He’s afraid of you,” Francesca observed.

Ricco shrugged. “Don’t know why. I’m just sitting here with my brother’s woman, giving her a little advice.”

“Thank you for that, Ricco. I appreciate it. You made me see things in a different light. I probably would have been stupid and made a run for it.”

His eyes darkened and another shiver went through her. Ricco Ferraro was every bit as scary as his brother, maybe more. There were demons in his eyes that Stefano didn’t have. She had the feeling something terrible had happened to him, something he’d buried deep, but that still drove him hard. “Don’t ever do that, Francesca,” he warned. “Stefano would come after you and he wouldn’t be alone. All of us would help him find you. You’re ours, part of our family and just like I was trying to say to Bruno, that means something. You don’t walk away from that because it gets hard.”

She nodded, took a breath and took the plunge. “You can talk to me, Ricco. I know you aren’t going to talk to your siblings, but I want you to know, you can talk to me. Whatever happened, however terrible, I would understand.”

He shut down. Instantly. She knew she was right about Ricco and his past, but he wasn’t going to share. Instead, he gave her the famous Ferraro smile, the one reserved for cameras, interviews and strangers. “Thanks, cara, but I’m just fine.” He stood up abruptly and pushed back his chair. “I appreciate the offer though.”

She forced a small nod and stood up, too. It was time to go back to work. The next wave of customers would be arriving very soon. The afternoon shift was always the most difficult to keep up with. The deli would be totally packed with lines outside and every table inside filled. She liked that shift because time flew by and it was a challenge to keep up with all the orders, but it was also exhausting.

Francesca was able to chat with the first wave of customers, laughing a little with them, watching closely to see if she could spot anyone who had already read the stories about her, but so far, Pietro’s customers didn’t seem to read many of the gossip magazines. By later afternoon, she was beginning to relax. The crush was nearly over and nothing had been said, no whispers had invaded the shop, no strange, telling glances. She was beginning to think she would escape completely today and have time to prepare a defense.

Enzo suddenly burst through the shop door and pointed at her. “Get in the back, Francesca. Now.”

Pietro caught her by the shoulders, turning her body and all but throwing her away from the counter. There was no mistaking the urgency in Enzo’s voice or Pietro’s hands. Tugging at her apron, she glanced out the large windows at the front of the store. In the street she could see a frenzy of paparazzi descending on the deli. Someone had finally sold her out. She turned and hurried down the hall to the employee break room. There was a screen where she could see what was happening. Standing just inside the door, she stared at the chaos already reigning in the front of the store.