22. Valerio
TWENTY-TWO
VALERIO
“So are you going to tell me when all of that changed?” Dante asked while they drove to their father’s office. “I thought she hated your guts.”
Valerio could only roll his eyes. He didn’t think she felt that way anymore, or at least he hoped she didn’t. “I’m not telling you anything.”
“You’re no fun. Like at all.”
Valerio sighed. “We’ve been communicating and it’s been good for us.”
Dante looked at him suspiciously. “Nah, it’s something else.”
“I’m not going to gossip about my relationship with you.”
“Oh, so it’s officially a relationship.”
“I’m marrying the girl,” he said. “Of course it’s a relationship.”
“I should have known something changed. You’ve been nicer than usual,” Dante told him, propping open the window. He grabbed the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, sticking one in his mouth and lighting it.
Valerio grabbed it, throwing it out his own window. “No smoking in here.”
“Never mind, I take that back,” he said. He stuck the box back in his pocket, crossing his arms. That was until he saw the small ring box on the dashboard. His eyes widened. “You gave her the ring?”
Valerio nodded slowly. “I did.”
“And she accepted it?”
“She did.”
“So she’s really in this then?” Dante asked, looking over at his older brother. “She’s actually giving you a chance?”
“I’m pretty sure she is,” he said, letting out a long breath. Finally, it seemed that she had accepted it. Or at the very least she stopped hating him enough to attempt to give him a chance.
“So you’ll be showing off your fiancée at your party?” Dante asked. “Perfect timing.”
“Yeah, the fucking PG party that you’re going to throw,” Valerio said. He drove wildly through the streets, trying to get to his father’s house for the random meeting he’d called.
“She’s just jealous; that’s why she’s so against it,” Dante told him.
Valerio turned to look at him. “Wow, who would have thought that she wouldn’t want her fiancé having half-naked women dancing around at his birthday party.”
“Whatever. It kinda sucks that you’re engaged now,” Dante said. “You were so much more fun before.”
“No, I wasn’t. And I was always engaged to her,” he said. They pulled up at their father’s mansion, stopping at the guard stand where their identity was checked before the gates opened for them. Valerio drove in, parking right in front of the door.
He turned off the car, getting out. Dante followed after him, muttering something he couldn’t hear and didn’t care to. He loved his younger brother, but Dante had the annoying quality where he always poked and pried more than he wanted. Everyone knew Valerio was a private person, but Dante was one of two people who could truly get him to open up against his will. And now, Luna was the second.
They walked the familiar halls they grew up in, but instead of family portraits that once lined the white walls, random artwork replaced them. It made the space feel completely foreign even after spending seventeen years of his life in this house. Was it his mother dying that left this foreign feeling or finally leaving for Italy that drove the final nail in the coffin?
They made their way up the stairs, walking down the long hallway to get to their father’s study. His loud voice echoed through the halls as he screamed at someone he most likely believed had betrayed him.
His father was that type of person; fragile with his loyalty. He shot first and asked questions second. If he even smelt an inkling of betrayal or traitorous behavior around him, he eradicated it. But never head on. Everyone knew Cesare Vitali’s specialty was a bullet to the back. If anyone turned their back on him, he paid them the same respect.
The one thing he could admire about his father was his strong sense of loyalty, but his specialty always screamed cowardly. Valerio never shied away from looking someone in the eyes when he took their life away. He wanted his face to be the last thing a traitor saw before they went straight to hell.
Valerio knocked on the door, waiting to hear his father bark the usual “What?” When it came, he pushed the door open, walking into the room with Dante following.
Cesare Vitali eyed his sons for a long moment before he turned to look at the man that sat in front of him. All it took was a flick of his wrist to have the man stumble out of the door. Valerio could only stare at the man running out in pity, before he took a seat on one of the chairs in front of the grand mahogany desk. Dante closed the door, taking the seat right beside Valerio. The leather of the chair whined under his weight, leaving the room in silence.
Valerio was the one to break it. “Why have you called us here?”
Cesare took his seat finally. He stretched the time, making sure he was in control of the situation as much as possible. He finally leaned back in his seat, representing a calm demeanor, but there was an edge in his eyes. “I received a copy of the contract. I didn’t realize you re-signed it.”
Valerio stiffened, but he covered it up effortlessly. “It must have slipped my mind.”
Cesare’s eyes narrowed. “And you shot one of the Kingsleys’ allies for it? What was that about?”
Valerio cursed himself. Sure, he had acted a little bit irrationally, but at the time he hadn’t thought about what his father would think about it. A simple mistake on his part.
“You were so adamant about ending the contract, just to jump back into it. What game are you playing, boy?” Cesare spit out, slapping his hand against the desk. Gone was the faux calm exterior.
Valerio didn’t even flinch. After years of dealing with the man in front of him—twenty-four years to be exact—he didn’t feel anything toward his father, especially not fear.
“There is no game,” Valerio said. He kept his voice leveled.
Cesare turned his gaze to Dante. “Are you in on this too?”
He jumped in before Dante could. Their father wouldn’t do anything to Valerio because he was the heir, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t give Dante double the beating instead. “He had no part of it. He wasn’t even there.”
“Don’t tell me you actually care about the girl.”
A cold chill drifted down Valerio’s back. He didn’t answer and he refused to give his father the satisfaction of the truth.
Cesare let out a mocking laugh. “Dear God, help me. What have I told you love will do to you? It gives you a weakness, something others will use against you—against us. That girl is a liability if you give a shit about her. Had I known about your little crush, I would have never allowed the contract in the first place.”
“It’s too late,” Valerio told him.
Cesare shook his head. “It’s not too late. I can take care of the girl. Sophia’s father would be willing to sign again. I know he would.”
Sophia, the girl his father wanted him to marry before he Luna. That night, all those years ago, when he found Luna crying, he had made up his seventeen-year-old mind. He brought up the contract to his father and hers, and made valid points for how much land, money, and power they would gain through the alliance. It was all bullshit. Even the numbers Valerio created on the spot and had Dante back up so that his father would let him enter the contract with Luna. It had to look strictly business and it had to look more profitable than any other proposition. And it did. Valerio did a good job, but now it was unraveling quicker than he could get ahead of.
He was always a planner. Always two steps ahead.
And now, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t.
Valerio moved quicker than he could even comprehend. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey on the desk, slamming it against the tabletop to create a sharp edge. He was behind his father’s desk in an instant, towering over him with the sharp edge against his jugular and his hand wrapped around his father’s neck, directly under his chin.
“You will not touch my girl,” he hissed, his entire body seething with anger. “She is going to be my wife and there isn’t a single thing you, or her father, or even God could do about it. Do you understand me?”
Cesare continued choking, his face becoming increasingly red by the second. “Do you understand?” Valerio spit out again.
This time Cesare nodded, slumping into his chair to catch his breath once Valerio let him go.
He dropped the top of the bottle on the floor. “If you ever threaten her again, you will be answering to me, only this time I’ll leave you bleeding to death on the floor. Don’t ever make that mistake again.”
The room fell into a tense silence. Cesare didn’t say a word, but Valerio took that as his cue to leave the room. He swung the door open, hearing it hit against the wall violently. Dante followed after him, but neither one said a word until they were in the car, driving.
“What the fuck just happened?” Dante asked, a look of horror on his face.
Valerio just betrayed his own father. That was what happened.