Chapter 17
VALENTINA
To my surprise, I don’t have to fight Luca harder on the issue of my freedom. One evening, he asks me to dress up in a lovely chocolate-brown silk dress. I’m elegantly wrapped around his arm as we attend a charity gala organized by one of his business partners—or so he calls him.
“Luca, Valentina, what a pleasure to see you both!” Nicolo Gamberetti exclaims upon seeing us.
“It’s a pleasure to be here, Nicolo,” Luca politely replies.
I feel safe and comfortable as long as I stay as close to Luca as possible. His large frame, fit neatly into a black tux, casts a shadow over me, making me feel invisible to everyone else. Hiding in his wake, I’m almost smiling, watching the gala unfold around us.
The venue is massive, with lavish lighting and decorative chandeliers, explosions of flowers and gilded statues everywhere. The middle of the hall is wide open beneath a domed ceiling, and several cocktail and champagne bars are scattered around to keep the booze and the conversations flowing.
“And you look wonderful,” Nicolo says, looking straight at me.
“Thank you, Mr. Gamberetti. It’s looking like quite the party you’ve got going on here.”
“Please, call me Nicolo,” he says as he looks around. “It’s merely an excuse for our people to come together, wear some fancy clothes, and drink some expensive champagne. At least it’s for a good cause.”
“Nicolo is an avid supporter of helping orphans once they age out of the system,” Luca tells me.
“That’s incredible,” I say, impressed by how impactful such an initiative can be. “I can only imagine how much good you’re doing for kids who think they’ve got nothing waiting for them once they leave the orphanage or whatever foster home they’re assigned to.”
Nicolo nods in agreement. He’s in his mid-fifties and of clear Italian descent.
He carries his age well, and he has a hopeful glimmer in his eyes.
Most of the Camorra men carry themselves with darkness and danger—in Luca’s case, it’s decidedly and dangerously attractive, yet Nicolo seems like a strange ray of sunshine in comparison.
“I was raised by the streets,” he says. “Little Italy. I’m just giving kids a better shot than what I had. We don’t all have to be hungry wolves, Valentina. Times are changing, and the old Camorra is dying out. The least I can do is pave the way for something better.”
“That sounds quite noble,” I reply.
He laughs. “Not the kind of discourse you’re used to hearing in our circles, eh?”
“Not at all.”
“It’s one of the reasons why Nicolo and I work so well together,” Luca tells me, “and why I’m often compelled to attend these functions and to support his projects. Despite his upbringing and current business endeavors, Nicolo is trying to do some good in a world that needs it. I appreciate that.”
Nicolo is touched and shakes Luca’s hand with great enthusiasm. “Thank you, my friend. I hope you both have a great evening here. Just be advised, everyone from all over the Camorra is here.”
“Message received,” Luca replies with a wry smile.
We leave Nicolo to greet more of his incoming guests and sail through the thickening crowd, noticing both unknown and familiar faces.
Our bodyguards are close by, blending in and keeping an eye out at all times.
A different kind of concern comes over me when I recognize Caroline a few feet away from us, drinking champagne and laughing beside my stepfather.
“I guess that’s what Nicolo meant,” I mutter.
Subtly, Luca slips his arm around my waist, making sure I’m glued to his side as we walk over to the small group—my stepfather, Caroline, and Alex Caputo with his wife, Anne Marie. Alex is an associate of the Mancuso family and running a small business that benefits from the syndicate’s protection.
Luca needs to make these public appearances now more than ever.
“It’s going to be fine,” Luca whispers. “You’re more than capable of handling them.”
“I know I am. And I will never let these people anywhere near Michael,” I reply.
Caroline sees us first. Her smile is brief as her gaze wanders up and down my figure before it shifts to Luca and lights up again, brighter than ever. She looks ravishing in her red satin dress with matching lipstick and red-soled Louboutin pumps, gold twinkling elegantly around her slender neck.
“Luca, Valentina. I’m surprised to see the two of you here tonight,” she says, then gives me a worried look. “Had I known about what happened after you left the café, I would’ve reached out sooner.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her.
My stepfather doesn’t seem to be in the loop. “What café?” he asks with a deep frown, then glowers at me. “You’re quite the expensive sight these days, child.”
“Can you blame me?” I reply evenly.
“Please, the both of you,” Caroline interjects. “Let’s be civil.”
“What happened at what café?” my stepfather asks again.
Alex Caputo chuckles nervously and reaches across to shake Luca’s hand in an eager attempt to steer the conversation away from Mauro’s growing ire. “Mr. Petrucci, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”
“I’ve been busy,” Luca replies and shakes his hand—maybe a little too tightly, judging by the passing wince on Alex’s face. “I hear your business has been thriving lately.”
“I hear yours hasn’t,” my stepfather shoots back with a dry laugh.
He’s itching for a fight, but Luca promised he wouldn’t give him one, not tonight.
We agreed to tread carefully and gather more information before we start pointing fingers.
The Camorra is a big and not entirely homogeneous organization.
He needs to be in good standing with as many of them as possible if he’s going to claim the high seat at the table.
Caroline places a hand on her father’s shoulder. “Papa, I think you’ve had too much to drink.”
“I would agree,” I reply.
“I haven’t seen my grandson at all since he was born. Pardon me if I’m drowning my sorrow in smoky spirits,” Mauro grumbles.
“You’re also touching a very sensitive subject,” Caroline insists. “You promised.”
He curses in Italian and shakes his head, eager to show his flair for the dramatic. I wonder how much of this dismay is real and how much is an act.
“I heard about the hit on your truck,” Mauro says to Luca. “For what it’s worth, I want you to know it wasn’t us. I’m sure I’m at the top of your suspect list.”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” my husband calmly replies.
Caroline takes a deep breath, exchanging nervous glances with Alex and Anne Marie. “Alex was just telling us about the donation he made to support Nicolo’s charity. Their most generous yet, apparently.”
“Five figures,” Alex replies. “I’ve been meaning to do it for a few years, but business has barely started to pick up again.”
Luca gazes at him, curious. “It has? How so?”
“Oh, we received some unexpected funds,” Alex replies vaguely. “Honestly, I didn’t even see it coming, but I’m not one to shy away from an investor. It finally gave me an opportunity to spread my wings.”
“I’m glad to hear that. The Camorra is the strongest when all of its arms are equally powerful and thriving,” Luca says, glancing at Mauro. “And not when they’re fighting one another.”
“Hear, hear,” Caroline says, raising her glass with a hopeful smile. She looks at me. “You should know, Valentina, you are sorely missed in our family.”
“I appreciate that.” I smile back, not allowing my face to show I know it’s a lie.
It’s all about keeping up appearances and not giving anyone an opportunity to further gossip about an already complicated situation. Not everyone knows what happened between me and Stefano Petrucci—or how quickly it fell apart. My stepfather went to great lengths to keep it a secret.
“You look lovely, by the way,” Caroline adds. “The dark brown really suits you, particularly in this form. Well chosen, Valentina.”
“I wasn’t sure about this dress at first,” I reply, looking at Caroline. “I’m glad I wore it, though.”
“Valentina has a beautiful soul,” Alex says. “It’s nice you were able to look past her, um, curves to see it.”
His wife snickers in amusement, and a smile sketches across Caroline’s lips.
“Mr. Caputo, women come in all shapes and sizes,” I reply with my chin up. “Just because I was never to your liking doesn’t mean I’m not someone else’s cup of tea.”
Suddenly, Luca transforms. His politeness dissolves as his fingers dig into my hip, desperate to pull me closer, as he glares coldly at Alex.
“Say it again,” he says.
Alex seems confused. “Say what?”
“What you just said about my wife.”
“It was just a joke,” Alex laughs, but his humor fades when tension comes off Luca’s broad shoulders like an electrical current surging through the entire banquet hall.
“I didn’t know the Caputos thought they had the power or the authority to make tasteless jokes while targeting a Petrucci queen,” Luca says. “Is this some kind of new extreme sport in our world?”
“It was just a joke,” Alex insists, growing increasingly aggravated.
Luca scowls. “You are no longer welcome in our circles, Alex. If I see you at one of our events again, there will be consequences you won’t like.”
“Mr. Petrucci,” Anne Marie gasps, utterly shocked.
Caroline leans in. “Luca, please…”
“The Mancusos are more than welcome to keep trading with the Caputos, mind you,” Luca politely assures her. “But as far as my associates and I are concerned, your business is no longer needed.”
“You can’t do that,” Alex protests.
Mauro frowns deeply. “The Camorra won’t let it happen.”
“We’ll see,” Luca replies. “Last I checked, I still have the majority vote.”
“I just opened a new location. I bought trucks and equipment,” Alex whines. “You can’t blackball me like that. It will ruin me.”
“Pardon me if I give less than a flying fuck,” my husband says. “You’re done.”
Luca is relentless. Merciless. And I’d be tempted to feel pity toward the Caputos were it not for their many previous remarks regarding my figure.
For as long as I can remember, people like Alex and Anne Marie have taken pleasure in shaming me for my body, in telling everyone in thinly veiled terms that I’m too much woman.
Too much and never enough.
“Keep shutting our allies down, and you’ll see that majority of votes get thinner before the year’s end,” my stepfather warns Luca.
However, Luca has a slice of wisdom for him, too. “Keep coming after my wife and nephew, and you’ll see your entire syndicate engulfed in flames before the month’s end.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No, it’s a fucking promise.”
He pulls me away from the group, leaving my stepfather to curse and hurl his insults at us while we move through the crowd.
“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” I tell Luca in a low voice once we’ve stopped at one of the cocktail bars.
“What, exactly?” Luca asks. “Defend my wife’s honor?”
“Not that I’m not thankful, I am, but I handled it.”
“You absolutely handled it. I also know that it wasn’t your first rodeo with the Caputos.”
He lowers his gaze, staring at the glass in front of him, while I inch closer, suddenly driven by desire and curiosity.
“What do you mean, Luca?”
“From the moment I learned of your existence, I looked into everything about you. Every detail, every piece of information, gossip and anecdote that I could get my hands on while my investigators combed the city and its surroundings to actually find you. Before I even came to your door, Valentina, I already knew most of what you had gone through growing up in the Mancuso family.”
“Oh,” is the only word I can manage.
“I knew what we were walking into tonight, but we had to do it anyway,” he adds.
“I understand. I do.”
“We’re stronger together, Valentina. Especially in front of these people,” Luca says.
“While you can certainly handle yourself, they need to be reminded that you’re not alone anymore.
You saw Mancuso, the old dog. Still baring his teeth but with barely any bite.
Caroline is a complex and delicate ally, at best. She’s a shaky bridge between our families perhaps.
But the Caputos and anyone else who stands with the Mancusos are still our enemies.
And we don’t let our enemies insult us, not even as a supposed joke. ”
I chuckle softly, bringing the cocktail flute up to my lips. “For a second, I forgot I’m a Petrucci now, I guess.
“That’s alright. I’ll remind you later tonight, as well.”
The way he says it turns me all the way on. It’s a promise I long for him to keep.
Later, Luca takes me to the middle of the dance floor.
The atmosphere in the banquet hall has already shifted.
Rumors are swirling. Impressions of shock and awe reverberate across the room as the rest of the Camorra learns about Luca’s response to Alex.
At a glance, I can already see some of the higher-ups gradually distancing themselves from Alex and his wife.
Anne Marie tries to strike up a conversation with a Collasimo matriarch, and she gets a cold shoulder in return.
“I almost feel sorry for them,” I say, my hand resting on Luca’s shoulder while he’s holding the other, leading me.
“You shouldn’t,” he says. “They brought this upon themselves.”
“Caroline got caught in the middle again,” I say with a deep sigh.
Luca shakes his head slowly. “She chose this. She’s still trying to keep the bridge open between us, even when she knows what her father has done to your mother, to my brother. Mauro Mancuso has plenty of sins. And Caroline knows it.”
“Can I ever fully trust her?”
“I don’t think so. I certainly don’t.”
“What do I do, then?” I give him a pained, slightly confused look. “I barely have any family left as it is.”
He presses his lips against my forehead. His kiss fills my whole being with warmth and comfort, the kind of warmth and comfort I have always desperately needed but couldn’t find.
“You can always give the benefit of the doubt when and if needed,” Luca says. “But you must always remember you have a family of your own now.”
“I do, don’t I?”
“Your son—and me.”
“I didn’t really ask for you,” I chuckle softly.
It’s become an inside joke for us, this forced marriage, this insanely difficult and complicated situation.
The more intimate we are, the more time we spend together, the hazier those earlier memories become between us.
“But I am grateful. I didn’t feel that way at first, Luca. ”
“I didn’t feel certain things I feel now either,” he says. “Life has a funny way of working out, doesn’t it?”
“I’ll keep pushing for another meeting with Caroline,” I tell Luca after giving it more thought. “Maybe we can reach a consensus with the old man eventually.”
“You’ll have that meeting on our turf, otherwise, you’ll pass,” he says.
“I can’t really argue with you there, not after what happened.”
Suddenly, gunshots ring out through the hall. I freeze. Luca instinctively pulls me against him, equally stiff and suddenly tense as he looks around.
I know that sound all too well.