CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Raina
S itting in Shane’s office on the UN construction site on Monday morning, I call Valdrin on a burner phone that feels like a brick in my hand. Shane blocked our location but ghosted it to appear as if it came from my cell phone, which is currently off and stored in Connor’s safe.
My heart pounds as it rings. Once. Twice. Then—
“ Raina? ” Valdrin’s voice is rough and hoarse. Like someone dragged glass across his throat.
My stomach twists. He’s hurt, and it’s my fault.
I sit up straighter, swallowing the ache in my chest. Time to wear the undercover mask.
“It’s me,” I say, ignoring all the penetrating Quinlan gazes on me.
“Where have you been?” Valdrin’s words are clipped, hiding that Noel’s men have been torturing him. He’s too proud to use my sympathy.
“I’ll tell you in person,” I say flatly. “Alone.”
He’s quiet for a beat, doubt lacing his ragged breaths. I can’t say much more because I’m sure Tahiri hacked his phone. Every second drags that same glass across my skin, thinking he’ll walk away from me.
Again.
Believing I was an Albanian mafia princess hit me differently when I was supposedly the daughter of a man I had never met. And would never meet.
But Valdrin? A man who’s been gentle and kind to me has me wanting a father for the first time in my life. And that maybe I wouldn’t be so flawed and broken if I’d had a loving dad.
Like Connor.
Okay, he’s flawed and broken in a different way. But the man can love while I’m still figuring out how the hell to work this useless heart in my chest.
I’m about to choke and give in, say more that will get me in trouble, when Valdrin speaks softly, “Where?”
A FEW DAYS LATER, CONNOR fastens a listening device to my sternum with fingers that now know every single one of my curves.
His mouth kisses up the center of my torso, lingering over my ribs. “I trust you, Venom, but this has me in knots.”
My eyes slip closed, loving how his mouth feels on my skin. “He won’t hurt me. And I trust you to keep me safe.”
“Fuck, yeah.” He clips the mic into the thin strap of my new lace bra and then trails his mouth up my throat.
I lay my arms across his shoulders. We’ve been making love like some doom is waiting for us on the horizon. Like we’re running out of time. Maybe we are.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“I already told you, you’re mine.” He gazes down at me. “Protecting you and making sure you get everything you deserve is part of what makes me the man I am.”
The heartfelt confession drives my pulse even crazier.
“The smoking,” I hedge.
He grips my chin. “I told you, you’re more important than a damn cigarette. And even more so if your health is at risk.”
“You quitting cold turkey still means more to me than you can imagine. All these things you say to me are words. I took all the bravado, the possession, the visceral way you look at me with a grain of salt. Thinking that was just who you are. It’s that you made this sacrifice that so many people can’t make that shows me you’re serious. ”
“I’m more than serious.”
“Can I just ask? How can you be so sure about me ?” I withdraw and cover my body, feeling insecure all of a sudden. “I’m the risk, the complication, the mess.”
“That’s simple.” Connor kneels to wrap the knife sheath around my naked thigh, pressing a kiss just above it. “You know the expression, there’s plenty of fish in the sea?”
I laugh, wondering what the contemporary expression is for a generation that meets on hook-up apps as a first stop on the dating train.
“One of my favorites that I hear from men is: Women are like buses. Keep waiting. Another one will show up,” I say.
He grips my jaw. “That doesn’t apply to a man like me.
I can’t date just anyone. I can’t see a woman I find attractive and assume, yeah, she’ll date a crime boss.
She’ll be okay with a murderer. My dating pool was very shallow.
And at worst, I was going to be forced to marry someone who knew exactly what I was and hated me. ”
I frown. “Are you settling for me?”
He laughs. “That’s what you got from all that?
You’re perfect for me. You get me. You’re not afraid of me.
You saw me torturing someone, and you didn’t run away.
You saved me. You put everything on the line for me.
How can I not—?” He stops as a blush spreads across his cheeks. “How can I not love you?”
The air escapes my lungs. “Connor.”
Shaking his head, he says, “Relax, Venom. I don’t expect you to feel the same way. I pulled you out of your world. You need time to adjust. I’m going to give you that. On one condition.”
“And that is? ”
“You don’t give in to your doubts and adjust to me. To my kiss. To my cock.” He grips my ass. “Everywhere, Venom. I want to swim in your bloodstream and take you over better than white thunder.”
If a woman said this to a man, he’d light the sidewalk on fire speeding away. But Connor is so sincere. After meeting his brothers, their wives, and his mother, I believe him. Everything in his life led to this moment for him. The moment when it’s his turn to love and be loved.
“Back to Valdrin.” He tests the mic. “You’ll be safe. There will be eyes on you at all times and from every angle.”
“You?”
“I’ll be watching from a van. Valdrin will be looking for me. They still think I killed Berisha.”
I’m not sure if I should clear that up with Valdrin. Something tells me Connor would take the fall for his brother.
We’re one.
“Let’s get you dressed.” He steps into the closet he gave me and helps me pick out an outfit I should wear.
I choose a cotton skirt with an elastic waistband, a pale blue tank top, and a denim jacket for this covert operation. They’re all from the collection of clothes he’s built for me.
To keep me.
I braid my hair to match his tattoo as he presses a lingering kiss to my mouth.
Then his eyes turn dark. “You’re going there to get his DNA and answers. But make no mistake, you are mine to protect. Do not be a hero.”
If this op goes sideways, something tells me Valdrin will have a bullet between his eyes before I even get my knife out of the sheath.
AN HOUR LATER, I’M sitting in the last booth of a quiet diner Shane found for this meeting. My nose wrinkles at the smell of grease and fake maple syrup. My stubby nails tap restlessly on the table. All the while, my thigh twitches as the weight of my knife presses against the muscle.
I’m nervous, but I’m not alone.
Every booth and table around me is filled with Quinlan guards. I clock each one. Bald Guy by the window? Blade. The dark-haired man scrolling on his phone? Jett. A pair of mahogany mops in sunglasses under Yankee hats? Rhys and Trace.
Then Valdrin walks in. He scans the diner like a soldier on the battlefield, making eye contact with every single Quinlan guard. No flinch. No fear. This man is no amateur.
“Fuck,” I mutter. “He spotted the guards.”
“Good,” Connor says from the van. “If he has any idea of dragging you out of there, he’ll think again.”
Valdrin slides into the seat across from me. The bruises on his face are worse than I imagined. Deep purple from cheek to jaw, and his split lip is just scabbing up.
“Oh my God, what happened to your face?” I ask softly because I’m not supposed to know.
“Tough night with the enemy,” he says with a shrug, like it doesn’t matter. “Cost of loyalty.”
Interesting choice of words, thinking of Noel as the enemy. Even as part of his lie.
The server shows up at the table and puts down two cups of water. “What can I get you?”
“Coffee, please.” I slide the menu away.
“Nothing for me.” Valdrin drums his fingers on the table .
“No tea bags this time?” I ask, wishing that warmth he’d always shown me would return.
He blinks up at me with a quiet sadness in his eyes that makes me think Noel’s men probably burned all his tea. “I forgot.”
My ass. I swear, I’m going to kill Noel Tahiri.
Steadying myself, I push a cup at him. “Not even water?”
He glances at it.
I tilt my head to the right. “Do you think I poisoned it?”
When he says nothing, I take a sip from both cups to prove it’s safe to drink.
Idiot. You’ve just contaminated the samples.
Staying quiet, he watches me with those mysterious green eyes that look so much like mine. Did he think I wouldn’t notice?
The server puts her pen away, and before she leaves, I say, “Actually, can I have an order of French fries too, please?”
No one can resist French fries from a diner.
When she turns away, I startle, surprised Valdrin is gazing at me. “I asked you here because it’s time for honesty. I’ll go first. I met Connor in June. Before I met you. He and I spent the night together. It was a great night. If you know what I mean.”
Valdrin shifts in his seat. Not a big movement, but a tiny flicker of rage fires up behind his eyes. Like a man in my bed matters.
“I can’t kill him,” I add quietly. “And I won’t marry Noel.”
Valdrin looks around again, and his eyes land on Blade. Then Jett. Valdrin’s lips twitch in something close to admiration.
“Noel will not be pleased. You belong with us, not them. But it looks like you’re well protected here. There’s not much more I can do.” He starts to rise.
I panic, worried I’ll never know for sure if he is my father.
“Please stay. I have to ask you something important.”
He hesitates but sinks back into the booth with a stiff nod. “I have a question first. What are your plans with Connor Quinlan?”
My jaw tips open from the unexpected question about my future with a man. Like a father would be concerned.
“I don’t know,” I answer to force him to stay in touch with me somehow. “My life imploded one month ago. You were there, Havok. I’m still figuring shit out.”
“He’s a mob boss. Their wives are property.”
“And Noel wouldn’t consider me property?” I don’t argue that he’s completely wrong about the Quinlans.
Ava and Lennox would kick anyone’s ass for suggesting they are their husband’s property.
“Noel is kyre . A king. You will be queen,” Valdrin says, his accent thicker than usual. Pride and pain mixed. “Connor is...”
My throat tightens at his insinuation that Connor’s status with Quinlan Empire isn’t regal enough for him. “He’s second-in-command for all intents and purposes.”
“Still not a king.”
“I’ll figure it out. It is my life,” I say to test him further.
To see if he’ll crack and slip, say the words I need to hear. Admit that he’s my father. Surely, he tested my DNA at some point.
Valdrin doesn’t utter a syllable and looks itching to leave because marrying me to Noel is a failed mission in his eyes. Tahiri will exact revenge, and Valdrin must endure the punishment.
Like a strong soldier.
“Will Noel retaliate against the Quinlans for keeping me?” I ask, my throat tightening at the idea I’ve just lit the fuse of war.
But the server comes with the fries before Valdrin can answer.
“Please stay,” I say quickly. “Help me eat these. There are so many. I assume you’re hungry.”
He grumbles under his breath and picks at a fry. “Happy?”
I pick up one too and dunk it into a puddle of ketchup. “I am. I like you, Valdrin. I wish we didn’t have to be on opposite sides.” I lay the groundwork for him to consider that he has options.
The server comes back and puts down more napkins. Valdrin immediately uses one to wipe his mouth and then crumples it like it means nothing.
A napkin. Check.
Feeling greedy because I may only have one shot at this, while the server is still at the table, I knock over one of the waters. Carefully, I use the other napkins, pushing aside his used one and letting it fall on the seat next to me. I apologize to the server and ask for a new cup of water.
She grabs one off a tray behind her, and I pass Valdrin the untouched cup. “I don’t think the server wants to poison you either.”
Shaking his head, Valdrin eats more fries. Then drinks the water.
The cup. Bingo.
When the plate is empty, he leans back, dabbing his mouth with another napkin. “Thank you. I didn’t realize I was that hungry.”
“Will Noel hurt you because I walked away?”
His expression shifts to a softness behind the bruises, but sadness bleeds in his eyes. “That’s not something you need to worry about.”
When he stands up to walk away, I have mixed feelings. I believe he’s my father, and I worry I’ll never see him again. I’m scared to death that Noel will kill him for failing to bring me back into his brotherhood.
“I’m sorry it has to be this way.” I finger the plastic bag in my purse, anxious to leave as well.
But Valdrin stops and turns around. “And yes, Noel will retaliate against the Quinlans.” His words are chilling. “Connor killed our king.”
It’s the first time he didn’t refer to Levin Berisha as my father. But Connor didn’t kill Levin, and it looks like I’ll be responsible for my real father’s death.
God, I hate this.
When Valdrin leaves the diner, I take out the plastic bag and slide the cup inside. Then I do the same for the two napkins in two other bags.
Barely audible, I murmur into the mic, “I got it.”