Chapter 6
VALENTINA
Once I've communicated my choice of wedding dress—along with plenty of protests—Luca has Eddie and two other security goons take me to Villeneuve Bridal Shop downtown. Villeneuve, according to their fancy logo and sleek store design, is the premier destination for stylish, discerning brides.
I feel like neither as we walk into the store and are greeted by a lovely sales assistant.
"Miss Peroni," she says. "Welcome. We've been expecting you."
Behind me, Eddie and his colleagues stand like pine trees against civilization itself. Eddie stays close, while the other guys take different positions. One sticks to the front entrance. The other lingers near the counter, which gives him a full view of the entire store.
"I understand you've chosen a model for your bridal gown and require some adjustments. My name is Evie, and I'll be working with you today to make sure your wedding day is absolutely perfect!"
"Yay," I mutter, feigning my enthusiasm with barely any effort.
Evie pauses, her enthusiasm becoming concern. "I can imagine you're nervous. Every bride is before the big day, I assure you."
"Oh, I don't doubt it for a second," I reply. "So, what's the process here?"
"We take you into the fitting room, where you'll be trying on the model you chose that's closest to your size, and then I'll mark the areas that need adjustments, along with all the relevant notes for our in-house tailor."
Evie is young, probably close to my age. But she's slim and sunny, bright and eager to please
"Eddie, would you mind waiting outside the fitting room?" I ask the bodyguard.
"Of course," he replies with a polite smile.
I like Eddie. He's nice and pliable, though he can definitely be firm and assertive if he needs to be. Every door, every camera, every eleven-minute loop. I made myself that promise, and Eddie is simply the next thing to learn.
Once I'm in the fitting room, the ambiance becomes more intimate.
The walls are dressed in salmon-pink satin, and there's a gold-brushed finish on every metallic detail on the seating and light fixtures.
The light comes down with a soft white glow, and as soon as I take my shoes off, they rest gently on the polished white marble floor.
Evie joins me with the dress on a hanger.
"Here it is," she says, her heels clicking as she hurries over and sets the dress on a wheeled rack next to the triple floor mirror. "I can't wait to see how it looks on you, Miss Peroni."
"I can," I mumble and give her a weak smile.
I take my clothes off as my gaze wanders around. There are two doors, I quickly notice. The one I came through and another that says STAFF ONLY. A thought forms in the back of my head, and I let it grow while Evie helps me put the dress on.
It is beautiful, I'll admit.
"It's truly something," Evie exclaims with genuine delight. "This is, however, the larger size. The one you suggested might've been too tight in some places."
"I see. Well, it's been a while since I've bought a dress for myself, and having the baby has changed a few things."
"Understandable," Evie replies with a slight smile. "It will be easier for the tailor to adjust down from a larger model, hence my executive decision. I hope you don't mind."
"It's fine, thank you."
She notices my discontent and immediately comes around to look directly into my eyes. "Have I offended you?"
"No, not at all. I'm just not really all that enthusiastic about this whole process. If we can just… you know, get on with it?"
"Of course." She sighs deeply and grabs a box of colored pins from a nearby chest of drawers. "If you could hold out your arms, I'll start marking the sections that need adjustment, then proceed with the notes."
"Sure," I say, then let her get on with her work.
Minutes pass, and I watch Evie as she adds colored pins along the lacy sleeves first. The more she adds, the tighter and more comfortable it fits.
I appreciate how gentle and warm she is, despite my lack of enthusiasm.
It's not her fault I'm getting married against my will.
She shouldn't be the one to pay for my misery.
But she could help me. If I can get her to tell me a few things.
"Say, where does that 'Staff Only' door lead?" I ask.
Evie is about to get to work on my breast circumference when she pauses to follow my gaze. "Oh, the store has an entire back section connected to every room. The fitting room, the dressing rooms that are separate, the store, the offices and the storage rooms, the staff areas, and so on."
"So, a corridor."
"More or less, yes."
"Is there a back door leading out of the store, as well? Aside from the front entrance, that is?"
She tilts her head as she gazes at me. "Our storage access door, yes. We get our deliveries through there. Miss Peroni—"
"That's cool, thanks," I cut her off and nod at the work she's been doing. "It's tight enough. Let's stop there."
"Of course," she replies. "And the bottom part? Shall we leave it just as flowy and long?"
I take a good look at myself in the mirror.
To my dismay, I love what I'm seeing. Despite the fear and sadness in my eyes, I notice the twinkle of curiosity.
The curling of my lips as I admire myself.
The dress looks wonderful, and it will look even better once it's adjusted.
I love the flow of soft satin all around me, the pearls' sheen catching my attention with every move.
"I think it's perfect," I tell Evie. "Just the way it is."
"To be perfectly candid, I think so, too."
"Oh," I gasp suddenly, wobbling on my feet for a second or two.
It's enough to worry Evie. "Are you okay, Miss Peroni?"
"Yes, just a little lightheaded. Mind if I get out of this dress and sit down for a moment?" I ask, already walking toward the love seat where I left my clothes.
"Of course. I'll go get you some water," Evie says.
"Maybe a little bite to eat? Something sweet? I think I'm dealing with a case of low blood sugar, that's all…"
"Sure, I'll be right back."
I give her a warm smile and a thankful nod. As soon as she's out the door and back in the store, however, I rush out of the dress and put my clothes back on—I move with lightning speed. Once my boots are laced up, I push straight through the STAFF ONLY door and stumble into a dimly lit hallway.
Looking both ways, I guess the exit would be somewhere to my right. Eddie and his men will likely catch up before I even reach the street, and I would never leave my son behind with the Petruccis. But I do need to take every opportunity available to test the security team's response time.
Someday, I'll have to take Michael and go. I know that. And I will be prepared.
This is merely a trial run.
I make my way through and past the back offices until I reach a large double door. There's a latch on, but it's easy to remove. All I need to do is push it wide open, and I'll reach the back alley.
As expected, I hear noises from the fitting room I left behind.
"This is it," I mutter and push open the door.
The sunlight blinds me for the longest second. My eyes need a moment to adjust to the sudden change, but when they do, the alley comes into focus with its grey brick walls and puddles of dirty water. There are tire marks along the pavement where a delivery truck recently came through.
And there's a black SUV waiting at the other end, on the street corner.
The sight unsettles me, especially as four men get out and rush toward me. Instinctively, I move back toward the street, my heart racing. They look like they're itching to get to me—fast. It doesn't sit well. These aren't Petrucci people. My instincts never fail me.
"Valentina!" I hear Eddie calling out from inside.
"Out here!" I shout and hate myself at the same time because I know I can't handle what's coming on my own.
As soon as Eddie steps out, the four men are dangerously close and pulling their weapons out.
"Oh, shit," I gasp and turn to run.
Eddie and his guys get between us.
Bullets start flying. A projectile whizzes past me. It goes straight into the wall to my left, chunks of brick flying outward. I guard my eyes and keep running, my heart stuck in my throat.
"Valentina!" Eddie shouts after me.
I glance back and see his partners down. He stoically resists from behind the door, firing back at the bastards and keeping them from moving past him. But one of them manages to slip through and heads straight for me.
By now, the neighbors and the passersby from both streets must've heard the gunshots and the commotion, but I cannot rely on any of them to help me. All I can do is keep running until I find a safe place to hide.
This was supposed to be a fucking trial run. Not a fight for my life.
The man gets dangerously close to nabbing me, but I run faster. To my shock, Luca comes in from the main street. I freeze on the spot as he raises his gun, his eyes cold and deadly, his lips pressed into a thin line.
I duck and cry out in crippling fear as he pulls the trigger.
The man is face-down, dead in a puddle of his own blood.
Luca grabs my arm, pulling me closer. "Get behind me," he says. "And stay behind me."
He keeps firing until another of my stepfather's men falls. I know he's the one who sent them. Eddie joins him as they advance through the alley, but the other two decide to pull back and head to the car. Luca and Eddie run after them.
The SUV drives off with an ear-piercing screech.
They're gone.
Groans echo from the alley. Luca's men are alive but wounded and unable to move. Luca curses under his breath, while Eddie quickly makes sure Mancuso's men are very much dead. I'm panting and shaking like a leaf when Luca focuses on me.
He's close. Too close. I can smell the feral intention of his cologne as he measures me from head to toe, then gently cups my cheek.
"Are you okay? Were you hit?" he asks, his brow deeply furrowed. That's genuine concern darkening his handsome features, and it tugs at my irritated heart strings.
I nod slowly. "I'm okay. What are you doing here?"
"I had a feeling you'd try something."