Chapter 7
seven
Valentina
Preparing for a wedding isn't what has been on my mind, even if the days after the engagement were busy. Because the wedding is in three months, just a few days after my twenty-first birthday, I need to start my wedding plans.
What was on my mind was the fact that Gabriel had been avoiding my calls and ignoring my messages. Even if he was busy, he should have found a few minutes to talk to me.
Ignoring the feeling of being ghosted, I focused on my wedding to-do list. First on my list, of course, was my wedding dress.
This time, the dress is my choice. No expectations, no restrictions.
And since this alliance is for us, the wedding is happening on Camorra’s ground, leaving me with complete control.
Well, not complete since my mother is constantly trying to integrate her ideas into what I want.
But I did give her control over the guest list, invitations, and seating arrangements.
Annalisa De Angelo, a woman who only cares about her looks and her social status, is perfect for this job.
Still, there were things I wanted to ask Gabriel. Maybe he would like to contribute some of his choices to this wedding.
After another day of him ignoring me, it has now been a week. I came to a decision that led me from being obsessed to being a stalker.
I packed a backpack, got on my bike, and rode all the way from Chicago to New York. I know. Who on earth would ride that distance?
Someone who doesn’t want to be seen.
I arrived early in the morning, and I tracked him from his apartment to the Lotus Hotel.
I even entered the hotel, but I didn’t blend in with my jeans and leather jacket.
I probably should have had a plan, but I didn’t.
I thought driving there would give me an idea of how to proceed, but that, too, was useless.
Maybe if I learned his daily routine, I would get an idea.
Before he exited the hotel, I changed my spot several times to avoid being spotted, always hiding in the shadows.
I don’t know when, but when his car finally showed, I followed him.
I expected him to go to the club, but he drove to his parents’ house.
And it was then that it hit me. This was how I would make him talk to me.
I’d become best friends with Patrizia Savastano, my future mother-in-law. He would never say no to his mother.
Last night, on my way to my hotel room, I made a stop at the first boutique that had what I needed.
Something that would impress Patrizia. At the engagement dinner, other than introductions.
I hadn’t had a chance to talk to her. I left that to my mother.
I’m sure poor Patrizia couldn’t wait to get rid of her.
I can’t show up in my jeans and the shirt I’ve worn for two days, so I choose a black slip dress with straps and a high slit on the side.
I complete my look with a belt and boots.
I look at myself in the mirror and put on the last touch of my lipstick before I grab my leather jacket and go on my way to my fiancé's childhood home.
I park in front of my future in-laws’ house and, with a smile on my face, I climb a couple of stairs and ring the doorbell. Since Patrizia doesn’t work, I know she’s home, and from the smell coming from their house, I just know everything will go as planned.
The door opens, and I smile brightly at Patrizia. “Valentina?” Her eyes widen, but in a second, her shock is replaced with a bright smile.
“Hello, Patrizia.” I smile. “I’m sorry I came without letting you know, but since the wedding is so soon, I thought you wouldn’t mind.”
She chuckles. “Why would I mind?” She takes a step back. “Come in. I just made some biscotti. I’ll make coffee.”
I follow her inside and step into the living room, taking it all in.
Sunlight filters gently through light curtains, painting the space in golden tones.
Cushions are plumped on the sofa. My eyes catch the family photographs on the wall.
I take a step closer, focusing on pictures of Gabriel from when he was just a boy to his glory days.
My eyes catch the picture of his parents, where they’re caught in a moment, sharing a look that I one day want to share with Gabriel.
Love.
I’m brought back to reality when Patrizia calls my name. I turn to her. “Coffee is ready. Let’s sit here.”
I take a seat at the kitchen table, giving my attention to her. “I’m sorry we didn’t have much time to talk at the dinner.”
She smiles softly. “Well, we have time now that the official stuff is over.”
“That’s true.” I smile as she places a plate of biscotti and coffee in front of me. “Thank you.”
“So, how are the wedding preparations going? I was told we’re not to be involved.
And if I may say, I was sad at first because Gabriel is my only son.
But since the wedding is on your territory, I can’t disagree.
” My eyebrows furrow because this is the first time I’m hearing about this. “Is that what Gabriel told you?”
“Who else?” She shakes her head. I observe her beautiful face covered with a tinge of sadness, and the thin thread of calm toward Gabriel tears apart.
“I disagree,” I say, taking a biscotto and dipping it in my coffee. “I have enough things I need help with, and I think you could be the perfect person for the assignment.”
Her eyes meet mine, and they shine with hope. “You do?”
“Yes. That’s why I’m here,” I lie. “But first, tell me the secret of how you make this delicious biscotti.”
Patrizia giggles. “I see what you’re doing; you want to make me feel better.” She takes my free hand and squeezes it gently. “Don’t worry about me. Gabriel is taking care of things on our side. He doesn’t want me to worry about my blood pressure.”
My heart squeezes a bit, and I realize he’s just taking care of his mother, and not wanting her to be worried just shows how he is taking care of her.
I smile and take a sip of my coffee. “And what do you think about this arrangement?”
“Gabriel is a grown man; he is free to do as he wants.” She shrugs. “We almost lost faith that he would ever get married. Especially after what happened.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Why, what happened?”
Patrizia shakes her head. “That is a story for Gabriel to tell.” She takes my hands in hers and pleadingly looks me in the eye. “There is only one thing I’m going to ask of you. Please don’t hurt him.”
I furrow my eyebrows. How would I hurt him? Why would I hurt him? There are so many questions occupying my mind, but I don’t ask any of them. I just nod. “I won’t.”
And that is the truth. What I want is to give him everything.
I spent the morning and lunchtime with Patrizia, who told me stories about Gabriel.
She's so proud of her only son that she couldn’t stop talking about him.
I absorbed every piece of information I found important.
I also found a way she could be helpful without putting her health in danger.
When I asked her if she knew where we would be living, she told me Gabriel owns the penthouse in Manhattan and that he didn’t mention anything.
So, she asked if I wanted to see it, since I will be living there.
I took her up on her offer, and now we’re in the elevator, on the way to Gabriel’s penthouse.
I fist my hands at my sides as the elevator goes up and swallow as my heart beats in my ears.
I inhale and exhale slowly and steadily, trying to calm myself.
When the door opens, I can breathe, and I walk into a waste of space of a penthouse.
I don’t see where Patrizia goes. I stop in my tracks, and my breath hitches, not from the beauty of the skyline, but from the glass that cages the space.
Floor-to-ceiling windows frame the sunshine, too vast, too open, leaving me exposed.
The warm design of the living room doesn’t ease my pulse.
I should have known what to expect from a penthouse.
A distraction from my left side snaps me out of the fear, and I hear someone pulling a trigger. I turn to face an irritated Gabriel, dripping wet, in his birthday suit. I bite my lip and smile. My fear is gone now.
Tilting my head to the side, I take a good look at him.
My memories don’t do him any justice, nor do the clips and photographs I have of him.
I rake my eyes from his feet, up his muscular legs to his trimmed groin, and I wet my lips at his half-hard cock.
I go up to his V-line and his six-pack to his muscular, tattoo-covered chest. His right shoulder and upper arm are covered in a tattoo that I will enjoy discovering the meaning of.
On the left side of his chest, there is a bullet with a ribbon around it that says: loyalty, honor, and respect.
I ignore the gun pointed at me. Instead, I focus on his irritated face and smirk. “Are you going to shoot me?”
“He isn't shooting anyone.” Gabriel’s attention falls to Patrizia. “Why are you naked? Shame on you. Cover yourself.”
He lowers his gun and covers his groin with both hands. “I’m naked because I was in the shower, in my own home. You're the ones who are invading my privacy.” He shoots me a look before he turns his defined ass and leaves for what I assume is a bedroom.
I smile and focus on the open kitchen connecting the living room, questioning who the hell will be cooking for us. Surely, not me.
“Why are you here? You could’ve called me if you wanted something, Mama.”
I turn toward the now-dressed Gabriel in his jeans and black shirt. He kisses his mother on the cheek as he looks over her and shoots me a glance of disapproval. I raise my eyebrow and smirk.
“Well, I just had a splendid morning with Valentina, and since she will be your wife, I thought she should see where she's going to live and if she wants to make any adjustments.”
He looks between the two of us. “You spent the morning together?”
I nod.