Chapter Nineteen
Matteo
“W e seem to be conducting a lot of our meetings in the VIP rooms lately,” Enzo notes casually.My answer is distracted. “Mhmm.”
Enzo follows my gaze as I track Valentina’s movements about the room. “Wonder why that is.”
“What?” I ask.
He sighs. “Wasn’t sleeping with her supposed to bring an end to this obsession?”
I tear my gaze away from her with great difficulty and face my cousin. “It’s a deeper itch than anticipated.”
“Than you anticipated, perhaps. Some of us were under no illusions of just how deep this itch actually runs.”
“It’s the mystery about her, that’s it. The more she refuses to talk, the more intrigued it makes me. I just need some answers and then I’ll be set.”
“If you say so.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“No.”
My lips curve upwards. “Care to wager on it?”
“On whether you’re going to be able to walk away from her? Absolutely.” Enzo gives me a firm look. “It’s a wager I’ll happily lose because it’s one I absolutely cannot win, Matteo.”
My eyes trail over to where Valentina is moving between patrons, a serving tray cocked against her hip. She’s tucking her hair behind her ear, smiling down at an older man when she feels my stare on her. Her gaze lifts and holds mine with a look of cool disinterest before she cuts the contact.
It’s been two days since we slept together and she’s refused to look at me for more than half a second at a time since. Try as her eyes might to appear aloof, her body is another story. Every time I walk into a room, I watch in real time as her shoulders tighten and her breathing gets shorter. She’s nowhere near as unaffected as she likes to pretend.
I extend my hand towards him. “Fifty grand?”
He shakes it. “Done.”
Angry whispers erupt at the table behind us. I throw a glance over my shoulder and notice it’s two low level Armenians. My father and brother insist on a partnership of sorts that gives them free access to Firenze like it’s theirs. I have very little time and even less respect for their organization. They’re trigger-happy, temper-prone, twisted motherfuckers whose main source of income is the trafficking of women. The Famiglia might not be a bastion of righteousness, but there’s one vital rule we all abide by — no harming women and children.
Ignoring them, I turn back towards Enzo.
“What’s the latest?” I ask him.
He settles back into his chair and pierces me with a look. “Marchesani wants to know when he can set up a meeting between the soon-to-be newlyweds.”
That gets my attention. “He wants me to meet Marina?”
“ Sì .”
“It’s too soon.”
“Apparently Rocco mentioned it might be time he married. He expressed interest in Marina for himself.”
My teeth grind together. Even when he has no idea of happenings going on behind the scenes, my brother always manages to put himself firmly in the way.
Behind me, the conversation between the two men grows louder. They abandon the hushed whispers in favor of a loud argument.
“Fucking Armenians,” Enzo mutters under his breath. “They cause some type of altercation every time they’re here.”
“No way Marchesani will let his daughter go to Rocco.”
“He might not have a choice. Your brother isn’t exactly the asking type, is he?”
I had months planned before I made an outright move against my family. If what Enzo is saying is true, I may be forced to reveal my hand earlier than planned.
“Last time I spoke to him, Rocco mentioned he had a new source of cash flow.”
Enzo swears. “The fuck is he up to?”
“I don’t know but I don’t trust whatever bullshit he’s getting us into. Look into it. See if you can find out where exactly this money is coming from.”
Tensions rise behind me, the volume of the argument now making it impossible for me to think. I stand and whip around, ready to intervene and tell them both to shut the fuck up, when I see the glimmer of metal under the dimmed lighting.
One of the men pulls out a gun and points it at the other.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.
Trust the Armenians to fuck up a perfectly good evening.
He shoots, hitting his companion in the shoulder just as he whips out his own gun with his other hand.
Chaos erupts.
A cacophony of shrill screams, tables being overturned, glass breaking, and people ducking for cover explodes around me. Terrified shouts fill the air as the women jump off stage and desperately search for somewhere to hide.
The mayhem fades to the background as I remember I just had eyes on a woman I need as far away from a discharging gun as possible.
Turning, I search for where Valentina might be hiding. I don’t have to look for long because she isn’t hiding—she’s the only person still standing amidst the madness, everyone else except Enzo and I having ducked for cover.
Barbed wire constricts painfully around my chest, the jagged edges digging deeply into my skin.
What the fuck is she doing?
“Valentina!”
She’s frozen. Her eyes are wide and glassy. Distant. Even from where I’m standing, I can tell she’s not present. She’s trapped somewhere deep inside her own body.
Another shot rings out.
The lightbulb above my head shatters, raining glass down on my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Enzo moving towards the two shooters.
“What the fuck, Valentina!” I roar, distress mangling my windpipe. “Get down!”
It all happens in less than ten seconds, but it feels like it stretches on for hours. She still doesn’t fucking move . She stands there like a goddamn statue. The thought that the next bullet could bury itself inside her twists my insides painfully. The emotion has no name, but it feels like someone is shredding my organs with a cheese grater.
I lunge, my body reacting viscerally as I trample over people laying on the floor covering their heads, my feet urgently seeking purchase, my gaze desperately stuck on hers, my mind willing my body to move faster, fucking faster .
Her eyes find mine and an anguishing tangle of emotions crashes through me. Fear dances in her gaze, alive and real. With one haunted look, she communicates more than she has in all our conversations put together. I get a deep glimpse at her , at the broken, sad part of her, and I want it.
Desperately.
Like an injured bird, I want to cradle her in my palms, take her home and heal her until she’s better.
Why am I so fucking far away?
When less than five meters separate us, another shot rings out. The wall just off to the side of her explodes. She flinches. My heart slams into my throat. The shots are getting closer to her.
Her shoulders huddle protectively together, but she still doesn’t fucking duck.
I throw myself across the remaining distance and tackle her to the ground just as another shot rings out.
There’s a loud, explosive crack as the bullet erupts from the chamber and travels through the air, and then there’s a sharp pain as it rips through my upper arm.
We hit the floor together and roll. I stay on top, covering her body protectively with mine. Dull pain throbs in my arm but I ignore it, too worried by the fact that Valentina is caught in the middle of this Armenian shitstorm.
When I glance at her, Valentina seems to have finally emerged from her torpor. She blinks up at me for a second, confused, and then her eyes drop to the growing stain on my right bicep and widen.
“Did you… did you get shot ?”
“Looks like it,” I grimace.
She surprises me as she seems to always do, and doesn’t freak out. Instead, she reaches down and rips my belt off me. She ties it around my arm and cinches it tightly, earning a snarl from me.
“Sorry,” she says. “I’m only trying to stop the bleeding.”
“I know what you’re doing,” I retort. “Why do you know what you’re doing?”
She blinks again. “I watch a lot of TV.”
“I’m not sure I buy that, but we can table that conversation for later.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I see that Enzo and Guido have seized and disarmed the two men. Enzo nods at me, communicating that the guns are dealt with and we’re safe.
She’s safe.
I realize my heartbeat is thrashing in my ears.
“Nobody fucking move,” I announce. “Everyone stay down until I say you can leave.”
I peel myself off Valentina and stand.
The Armenians are dead before their bodies hit the ground at my feet, a bullet lodged squarely in either one of their foreheads, their eyes frozen in shock as death takes them. The VIP patrons are still hiding as ordered, so no one bats an eye.
No one save Enzo, who rolls his.
When I walk back over to her, Valentina stares at me from her position on the ground. “You killed them?”
“Anyone who shoots at you or tries to hurt you in any way,” I say, bending to hoist her up into my arms, “Dies.”
It’s that simple, really.
My bicep screams as I carry her, but I ignore it. I’ve got practice working through pain.
“What are you doing?” she asks, even as her arms go around my neck.
“Getting you out of here.”
She squirms in my arms as I walk to the doors and kick them open. “Wait, no.”
“I’m not in the mood to argue with you right now. Settle the fuck down,” I snap.
Wide eyes look up at me from the comfort of my arms. “Please, Phantom,” she whispers.
That makes me stop. She’s never asked me for anything. I stare down at her, my galloping heart only starting to settle now that we’re in the hallway away from the crime scene.
“What is it?”
“Au–” She stops. “Capri. My friend Capri. She was in there with me. I need to make sure she’s okay.”
I set her down on her feet, one hand searing her waist to make sure she can stand on her own.
“Stay here.”
“Mat—”
I whirl on her. “If you move even one centimeter from this position, I’ll spank you so hard there’ll be a permanent imprint of my hand on your ass. I’ll get your friend,” I say and storm back inside.
When I emerge minutes later with an unharmed petite woman by my side, the look of relief that crosses Valentina’s eyes nearly undoes me. She throws her arms around her friend's neck and hugs her tightly, whispering that she’s so happy she’s unhurt.
“I’m totally fine.” Capri throws a furtive glance my way. “I managed to hide behind the bar. You?”
“She stood there doing her best impression of a human target sheet,” I interject, anger simmering right beneath the surface. “Perfect marks for trying to get herself killed.”
Valentina crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her gaze at me. “No one asked you to be a hero.”
Capri’s eyes widen at her casual tone. She glances nervously over at me. I give her a stiff smile.
“Can you leave us please, Capri?”
“Sure.”
“Capri—”
“Girl, he asked and he said please. I’m going to leave you two to it.” She turns towards me and gives me a tentative smile. “Thanks for rescuing me, capo .” With that, she shimmies off.
I watch her go, turning back towards Valentina with a smirk tugging at my lips. “I like her.”
Valentina stiffens. “I can give you her number if you’d like.”
I chuckle, the sound deep and low, and reach for her. My hand closes around her wrist and I tug her towards me. “No, thanks. I’ve already got my hands full with you.”
“You don’t sound annoyed.”
“Why would I be?” Bending, I hoist her off the ground and back into my arms. She gasps, clutching at my shoulders as I flick a cocky smile at her and stalk down the hallway. “I’m very, very good with my hands.”
“Where are you going?” she asks, a note of panic tinging her tone. “Where are you taking me?”
My arms tighten around her. “My house.”