Chapter 15 Valentino
I end up brushing the question away. Focus on her. Always on her.
I hold her and let her purge it out of her. At least, she’s not pulling away and is letting me console her. I knew we’d have to talk about difficult subjects at some point if our relationship was to go anywhere. Guess we are going somewhere now, because look at us in this moment.
“I don’t remember her, you know,” she says after a long time. Her words are muffled against my chest.
“You were five.”
“Still, I wish I had something.”
“Memories fade,” I say softly.
“What do you mean?”
I run a hand over her hair. “When you think of them, at first, it’s sharp and there, tearing you up. Then as time passes, everything dulls. You remember, but at the same time, it’s like a movie running in your mind. You’re seeing it, like it’s outside of you, instead of being in there.”
Silence thrums for a moment. I don’t know where the words came from, but they echo between us. I’ve never formulated this feeling out loud before, and to hear it being explained feels alien.
“How do you know this?” she asks. “I think I remember her, but then I find it wasn’t real.”
“Like you see this person in your mind, it’s like a moving snapshot. But when you really think about it, it’s not a memory. It’s an actual photo you saw, and that’s all you can conjure of them.”
Naomi pulls away from my arms to stare at me with wide eyes. “That’s exactly it. How…”
I shrug. “Happened to me, too.”
She blinks. “Your mom?”
I nod.
“But she’s been gone, what, a couple of years?”
“A little over four, actually.”
She blinks, then her small, dainty hand is cradling my cheek tenderly. She pulls herself up to drop a soft kiss on my lips. She’s gone before I can return her kiss.
“Grief,” I say. “Love that has no place to go.”
Naomi nods slowly. “It’s an apt description. It’s not a void in you. It’s a space too full, bursting with love to give…”
“…but the one who’s to receive it is no longer here,” I finish for her.
Pain zaps in her eyes. I’m sure mine are echoing the same thing. But strangely, a soft veil of something like peace also falls on us, like sharing our sorrow soothed instead of ripping the gash open again.
I think of Mamma, and as a soft smile graces my mouth when I hear the sound of her voice calling me, faint as it is now, something clicks in my mind. I’m sitting up so abruptly, Naomi almost gets thrown onto the cushion next to me.
“What is it?” she asks.
I stand up and grab her hand. “Come with me.”
She looks puzzled, but she follows me, nevertheless. I take the stairs to the top floor, then at the end of the hallway, unlock the final door and take another flight of steep stairs up. We emerge into a timbered space with slanted roofs and a big bull’s eye window lighting up the whole area with colorful rays thanks to its stained glass.
Naomi giggles. “Are you a wizard or something?”
I can see where she’s going with this. “I’d be no ordinary wizard but a powerful warlock.”
“That, you would.” She laughs again. “So, where’s the Book of Shadows?”
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but we’re not in Charmed here.”
“Lends itself to it perfectly, though.”
I let her peruse the attic while I go to the boxes stacked under some eaves. Mamma loved this space and could spend hours lost in the family albums. My father always made sure it was clean and clutter-free, the big rug in the middle dusted every other week. Even after she was gone, he honored her memory here, keeping it pristine like when she was alive. Ina and Carlito have kept it up since his demise.
A pang hits my heart, but I don’t let it settle as I peruse box after box. When I finally land on the one, I was looking for, I take the album with me and drop onto the rug, tugging Naomi next to me. I flip the pages quickly until I come to the picture I was looking for.
Naomi gasps next to me. “Is that…?”
“Your mother? Yes.”
She runs a reverent finger over the clear plastic covering the image. In it, my red-haired mom has her arm around the shoulders of a young woman with long dark blonde hair, pale skin, and a soft smile.
“How do you have this?” she breathes.
“It was Luciano’s fourth birthday. Your parents had just gotten married and moved in next door. My mamma wouldn’t hear of not inviting Aoife over. She was a stranger in this neighborhood, in this entire community.”
Naomi’s still staring at the picture. “Your mom looks pregnant.”
I do the math in my head. “Must’ve been with Victor.”
She stays silent for a long moment, and I see her take a deep breath as she removes her fingers from the album.
“Do you want to keep it?” I ask.
My heart squeezes when she shakes her head.
“We don’t keep pictures of her…”
“You could snap it with your phone.”
“Forgot to bring it with me.” She looks up and gives me a watery smile. “No place in that dress you sent to tuck a phone.”
“And you weren’t wearing a bra.” I run with her statement, knowing instinctively she wants to change the topic.
“Can’t tuck that in panties.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Were those panties you were wearing? Scraps of lace sound more appropriate.”
She laughs and, without looking down, closes the album. “How is your family, by the way?”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugs. “It’s been ages since I last saw any of them. What are they all up to?”
Right—she totally wants to change the subject. It must be an emotional upheaval for her, all the revelations I unpacked downstairs, then the picture of her mother here. They’re not doppelgangers, but they definitely look alike.
I put the album to the side then turn to her. “Luciano’s a dad. His boy is three. He married Eliza, his high school sweetheart. She died a year ago.”
Naomi gasps. “What? How?”
“Cancer. Nothing much we could do.”
She reaches for my hand and squeezes. “I’m so sorry.”
I nod. “Franco’s a playboy.”
She sputters on a laugh. “Franco?”
I’m glad for the levity this brings. “He’s not stick-thin and plagued with acne anymore.”
“And Victor?”
“Stopped growing in width and gained a few inches.”
She playfully slaps my arm with the back of her hand. “Don’t be rude.”
“Well, it’s true.” Never mind he looks like a mountain now.
“Francesca?” she asks.
“Being a free spirit in New York. Wait,” I say as I get up. At the boxes, I retrieve the latest album Mamma compiled and bring it with me. “There.”
The page is open on the last full family picture we ever took. Luka’s not in it, obviously, but all the adults are.
Naomi’s poring over the image. “Wait, is this Franco? He’s hot!”
“Careful,” I chide. “I’m a jealous man.”
“Hmm. Are you going to punish me for finding another man hot?”
“Not another man. My brother. And Franco, of all people!” I groan.
“Well, he is. As are Luciano and Victor, even if he looks like a small mountain.”
I launch onto all fours and advance on her, which makes her giggle. “I said careful, Naomi.”
Or what? She doesn’t say the words, but I can see them clearly in her sparkling eyes.
I reach her, hovering over her as I get onto my knees. She isn’t expecting it when I grab her feet with one hand and tug, my other hand going behind her head, so she won’t smack it on the floor. She yelps, which turns into a smothered giggle then outright laughter as I tickle her ribs.
It’s good to hear her laughing. There’s a smile on her face, and her features are soft and glowing.
“You’re the hottest of them all,” she says upon a giggling shriek as I continue my tickling assault.
“Show me that you mean it,” I say.
She takes me unawares when she lifts herself up and rolls onto me, body-slamming me into the rug. The breath whooshes out of me. I can feel nimble fingers making quick work of the button and zipper of my jeans, and I groan when a silky hand grasps my hard thick shaft and her hot mouth wraps around the turgid head.
Everything stops as Naomi takes me with her lips and tongue. Can’t say she’s skillful, but what she lacks there, she makes up for in sincere enthusiasm. And that’s killing me softly. She’s heaven on my cock, a different kind of bliss from her tight pussy.
I moan when her mouth is gone suddenly. I didn’t make it far into those recesses, but she got my head and several additional inches in and was doing sinful things to it. A different moan grumbles out when she lowers herself on me, enclosing my erection in her intimate folds.
“Keep your eyes closed,” she murmurs, and I do just that.
She’s heaving herself up then lowering onto me, taking me in a little more each time. Each time she drops on my cock enveloping me in her moist heat, I can hear the hitch in her breath followed by a faint whimper. She is very tight, making me wonder how much longer I can endure the indescribable torture. When I’m in to the hilt, she presses her hands flat on my abs, pushing the T-shirt away, the rolled cotton abrading my nipples now so sensitive because I can’t rely on sight with eyes closed. Of their own volition, my hands come up along her hips, her waist, brushing under my shirt she’s wearing to close on the heavy globes of her breasts.
I’m rutting now, but she’s setting the pace, driving me crazy. My hands close on her breasts, my thumbs seeking out her pointed nipples to tease them relentlessly. She’s taking from me, taking me for all I am, and I fucking love it. Before long, she’s milking me dry as my orgasm roars through me at the same time a guttural groan tears from my throat.
After coming down from my high, I caress Naomi’s sweaty back and beautifully rounded ass as she is draped over my chest. My cock is still inside of her, still hard several minutes after shooting my load into her pussy. I know as soon as I pull out, my cum will also spill out in spades.
When I am able to gather my thoughts and open my eyes, I kiss her hair before breaking the spell we are under.
“I didn’t use a condom.”
She stirs in my arms and raises up her head just enough to prop her chin on her hands resting on my chest.
Looking into her luminous green eyes, I’m relieved to see she doesn’t look upset.
“I know,” she says.
I take a deep breath in and out. “I’m clean. I was tested two months ago and I always wrap up my shit.” Shaking my head in remorse, I said, “Well, I did until now. I’m sorry, I should’ve been more careful.”
She nods. “It’s okay. I’m an adult. I know this stuff, too. I haven’t been tested since last year but I also haven’t been with anyone for a lot longer than that.” She gazes into my eyes, a little smile gracing her beautiful face. “I have an IUD so you don’t need to worry about me getting pregnant.
So many thoughts run through me, but the one that dominates is relief that she is protected from an unplanned pregnancy. Our situation is already complicated enough. The second thought that takes hold is the absolute satisfaction in hearing that she has not been touched in over a year. She’s mine. No one is going to fucking touch this girl except me or I will rip his head off.
“Let’s be clear, gattina. You and me are together in every sense of the word and I don’t share. You better accept that or there will be hell to pay.”
I grab her face between my hands and take possession with a kiss that makes it clear I’m done talking and it was time to show her what I meant.
The rest of the day is lost in a haze of lust and hunger. I can’t get enough of Naomi, and the fact she claimed me with her taking in the attic unleashes a beast inside me, one which seeks her, needs her. The force of this need shakes me when I reckon with it, but her willing body is waiting right there for me whenever the thought strikes, and I drown myself in her all over again, smothering the need, feeding it, reveling in it.
At some point, we ate, I think… It’s only the sound of my vibrating phone deep into the night that tears me from this fog of desire. Seeing the name on the screen has me wide awake. I turn to stare at Naomi’s sleeping form next to me. She’s out for the count, but I can’t risk taking this where she can hear me.
I get up and step out into the hallway, closing the door behind me.
“Carson,” I say when I answer the call. “What is it?”
Carson Felix owns a policy-making firm in Salt Lake City. I was on my way back from meeting with him when I bumped into Naomi at the airport. While I won’t go as far as saying he’s an associate—the man plays too many sides at once for that kind of trust—he’s still a valuable asset.
“You won’t hear about it until it’s official, probably during the week, but something’s come up,” he says.
My nostrils flare as I listen to him. How can a man all the way in Utah have such a precise pulse on what’s happening in DC?
My legs threaten to buckle under me when I cut the call, but I take a deep breath to steady myself. This is going to be our first test, and it will also be the biggest test of them all at the same time.
I fire off a series of texts, calling a meeting in a few hours. Though I come back to bed, sleep eludes me as my mind travels onto tangents this news just sketched. When morning comes, I lose myself one last time in Naomi’s body as she awakens, feed her coffee, then send her, completely bewildered, back home next door. She can’t be here for what comes next. I can’t look at her face as she leaves because it’s going to kill me. There are more urgent fires to put out right now.
Antonio, my consigliere, is the first to arrive. Not surprising, since he lives on the next block. A man of few words, he knows I’ll speak when we’re all gathered.
Luciano’s next to join us. Both Antonio and I raise our eyebrows upon witnessing the beard on his usually clean-shaven face. He hands a sleepy Luka still in pajamas to Carlito who whisks the kid to the kitchen where Ina will feed him and get to play mother hen, her favorite role.
Victor pops up on the video call. I didn’t invite Francesca because she steers clear of family business, and she’s not concerned anyway since she hasn’t got any hand in our affairs. Franco’s the last to appear on the screen.
“Whoa, Luciano. Did Luka decide to get creative with a permanent marker or are you calling that a beard?”
Of course, he’s the one who’ll point out the elephant in any room. Luciano does look like he etched tiny dark lines to make a goatee and a thin trail of hairs along his jawline.
“Vaffanculo,” Luciano mumbles with a frown.
Antonio, always the voice of reason, speaks up. “What is it, Val?”
All eyes turn to me. My stomach is roiling as I take a deep breath.
“Got a call about what’s happening in DC. Governor O’Donnell is stepping down after just a year in the seat,” I start.
“And?” Luciano asks, frowning even more now.
“His party has a replacement all lined up. Guess who?”
Franco swears. “Not that figlio di puttana Joel Smith.”
“Of course it’s him,” Victor confers quietly. “Look at Val’s face.”
“Merda!” Franco exclaims. “It’s Governor, then Senator, then…”
Antonio nods. “RICO all over again.”
The Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act, RICO for short, passed in 1970 and changed the face of organized crime in the US and especially the East Coast forever. A little birdie told us Joel Smith planned to push a new law that extended the ten-year-period to corner someone for at least two acts of racketeering or other relevant crimes to twenty or more.
He’d be able to do this as a senator, which seemed years away yesterday. Now, it looks like this is right around the corner.
“What do we do?” Franco asks.
I hiss in a deep breath. “We take him down before he can take us first.”