Chapter 5
five
. . .
Valentina
My champagne had gone warm hours ago, but I kept it close to my lips anyway.
It gave me an excuse not to talk or respond to every simpering back-handed compliment and thinly veiled insult being thrown my way.
My engagement party sparkled around me like a lie draped in diamonds.
Crystal chandeliers dripped gold across the ballroom as a string quartet played some saccharine tune that didn’t match the sharp edges of the crowd.
Every guest knew what this party really was: not a celebration of love, but an announcement of power.
A merger in flesh and paper, binding the Moretti name to the Marconis, and I was the prize.
The bride-to-be. I had chosen this, and yet it chafed all the same.
Luca’s mother, Francesca, smiled at me with teeth so polished they could’ve cut glass. “You look so radiant, Valentina,” she purred, her voice warm enough to almost hide the condescension. “Red really does suit you. Though in my day, brides-to-be wore something a little more modest.”
Her eyes flicked down to my dress, a crimson silk cut close at the waist, neckline daring enough to spark whispers. Good. Let them whisper. I had no desire to go quietly into the night.
I forced my lips into a polite smile. “Times change, it seems.”
Her husband, Aldo, chimed in with a chuckle that was nothing short of patronizing. “But tradition does not. A wife must respect her husband’s family, of course. That is the foundation of harmony in matrimony.”
I tilted my head, letting my smile sharpen into something edged. Beside me, I felt Luca stiffen as if sensing he wouldn’t like what came out of my mouth next. “That may be true, but in my family, respect is earned, Aldo. Surely a man as forward-looking as yourself would agree.”
Francesca’s smile thinned, and Aldo’s face pinched as if he had swallowed something sour.
If I had had my way, his face would have remained like that, permanently.
Luca’s hand on the bare skin of my back grew damp with sweat, and I nearly pushed him away.
I had endured enough, and I was quickly coming to the end of my already brittle patience.
I let them prattle another moment before catching Luca’s eye.
“Dear, I think I need a bit of air.”
Luca’s eyes widened slightly before he gave me a stiff nod. His hand pressed softly, steering me toward the French doors that opened onto the balcony. The night air was thick with lingering summer heat, but at least it wasn’t suffocating with perfume and false laughter.
“Get a handle on your parents,” I hissed the moment we were alone, and the sound of the party melted away.
He blinked, startled. “They’re just worried about me, so they can be a little pushy.”
“A little pushy?” I echo with a sharp laugh. “Ever since we announced this union, they have treated me like a project to be molded to their specifications. If this farce is going to work, you need to remind them who the hell I am.”
His jaw tightened, but only barely. Luca never did learn how to fight back without flinching. It’s part of why I chose him after all. I suffered enough at the machinations of the men in my family. I wouldn’t do the same for anyone else.
“They’re overbearing, Valentina. Always have been. You think I can control that?”
I stepped closer, forcing him to meet my eyes. “You don’t need to control them. You need to control yourself. Show them you’re not a boy still begging for scraps at their table. You want the comfort of being on the right side when things go down? Then you’d better play your part.”
His lips parted, a protest forming, but I cut him off, not wanting to hear any of his excuses. “Or I’ll start dropping hints about the secrets you’ve worked so hard to bury.”
The blood drained from his face, and it gave me a thrill to see the edges of his fear. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
For a moment, silence stretched between us, taut as a wire. Finally, he exhaled, shoulders slumping. “Fine. I’ll talk to them,” he agreed even as a thread of bitterness slipped into his tone. “But don’t forget, this isn’t a real relationship. You don’t get to order me around like I’m your pet.”
I smiled. “Then stop acting like one.”
His mouth opened to retort—but movement caught my eye over his shoulder. “Nico?”
She leaned against the doorway like she owned it, a shadow wrapped in black. Luca turned, and I felt him go stiff.
“Luca,” she said smoothly, voice not divulging anything.
It was the same even tone she often had when we talked with contractors, and it was always interesting to hear it when she sounded so different when we were alone.
But her eyes, they said everything, and right now they were looking at me with shrewd intent. “Your mother is asking for you.”
Luca glanced at me, then at her. He muttered something under his breath that I didn’t catch, but he didn’t hesitate before slipping past, leaving our conversation behind.
Which left me with her. The same woman who was the beginning and end of every deliciously dark thought I’d ever had when I lay in bed at night.
Nico didn’t move right away. Her gaze lingered on me, steadily pulling at the edges of my control.
I forced myself to breathe slowly and wait her out.
I didn’t want to seem too eager to know why she was here.
Finally, she pushed off the doorway and stalked closer.
Every step closer snipped at another string of my control.
Tonight had already been trying as it was.
I wasn’t sure if I had the strength to keep fighting against every impulse rushing through me.
“I couldn’t help but overhear some very interesting information,” Nico murmured. “So, tell me, Valentina. Is this engagement real?”
I forced myself to hold steady and keep my spine straight, even as my stomach tightened. Lying wasn’t an option, and I doubt she would believe me even if I tried. Even worse, I found myself not wanting to. “Of course not. Do you really think I’d waste myself on a man?”
Her mouth curved, slowly and dangerously as she moved closer. “Then why play the part?”
I should have ignored her. I should have walked away.
But her eyes held me, heat and challenge in equal measure.
“Why do you care?” I asked, voice low, wanting to understand the reason for her questions.
Was this Nicolette Romano asking, or the Nico who used to trade wishes with me under the covers until we talked ourselves to sleep?
The question hung between us like smoke, and I wondered if I had pushed too far.
Before I could speak again, Nico moved. Between one blink and the next, she had me against the wall, a hand braced above my head while the other gripped my waist with enough force to bruise.
Her mouth crashed against mine, hot and demanding.
I could almost taste the anger on her tongue.
I should have shoved her away, but when I brought my hands up, I found myself clutching her closer.
This was risky. All of this was a dangerous game to play when anyone could come out here and catch us.
Still, I was so tired of always playing the part and never letting go.
I kissed her back with years of rage and longing.
Her lips tasted of wine and something intoxicating, her tongue sliding against mine in a battle that was a little like love and a lot like war.
The hand on my waist slid lower, fingers curving over my hip and pulling me tight against her body.
Heat flared, wicked and sharp, spiraling low in my stomach and down to my pussy.
When her other hand dropped down and grasped my ass, jerking me forward, I gasped against her mouth.
She swallowed the sound like a victory, chuckling softly as she pulled her lips away to breathe.
“You still taste like fire,” she whispered against my lips.
I clutched at her shoulders, nails biting through the silk of her suit jacket. “You’re insane.”
“Maybe.” She kissed me again, her teeth grazing my lower lip. “But you want me anyway.”
God help me, she was right. The wall at my back was cool stone, but her body pressed against mine burned hotter than anything I’d ever felt.
I let my head fall back, let her mouth trail along the line of my throat.
My pulse thundered in my ears as my breath came out in ragged pants.
Even the other women I had been with over the years never left me feeling this way.
The hand at my ass slid around until fingertips dragged over my thigh, where the slit in my dress started.
I didn’t fight it as she dragged the fabric up and slid her thigh between mine.
“Valentina,” she hissed, my name a growl against my skin. “Tell me to stop.”
I couldn’t. I didn’t want her to stop. I wanted to burn with her until our ashes mixed at our feet.
Instead of saying anything, I dragged her face back to mine and kissed her hard, wanting to forget everything except the way she felt as she pressed against me.
She fell back into me with a groan, and my blood sang at the sound of her surrender.
Our kisses weren’t gentle, nor were they sweet.
They were teeth and hands as years of tension snapped between us all at once.
She pressed her thigh against me harder until the fabric of my panties brushed against the lips of my pussy, forcing a sound from me I would’ve died before letting anyone else hear.
“Fuck,” I breathed against her mouth. “Give me your fingers. I need it.”
Her laugh was low, dangerous, and filled with triumph. “There’s my girl.”
I wanted to deny it and tell her I belonged to no one but myself.
The possession in her tone should have been just as chafing as the bullshit ring on my finger, and yet the words wouldn’t come.
Not with her hands on my body. Not with her teeth tugging at my bottom lip and making me forget why I’d ever thought I could resist her.
Every nerve burned, and every thought fractured as fingers slid my panties to the side before dipping between my pussy lips.
I gasped when one slid inside of me with perfect precision as if this was something we did every day.
The party beyond those doors didn’t exist anymore.
There was only Nico, and the way she curled her finger made me arch on my toes as my hips danced against her.
“You’re so fucking wet, baby,” she breathed against my lips before moaning softly. “Has no one been taking care of you?”
“Of course not,” I gasped softly as I slid my hands to her hair. I pulled at the tie, keeping her jet-black strands at bay. “I’ve been busy.”
Nico chuckled, breathing the sound against my cheek before her lips tickled at the shell of my ear. “Good. If you had told me someone else was touching this pussy regularly, I’d have to find them and remove every finger that had ever been inside.”
I shivered, thrilled at the threat of violence in her words. “Don’t be stupid. I just haven’t been with anyone in the past year while I—” I cried out at the sharp bite on my ear. A second finger slid inside me, not giving me a moment to breathe.
“I suggest you never let me know who else has tasted this pussy.”
I chuckled, though the sound came out choked when another finger circled my clit. “What if I want them to be taken care of?”
She huffed out a laugh. “Then by all means, give me a list.” Nico’s face came back in my line of vision even as her free hand gripped the back of my neck, locking me in place. “But not right now. Right now, all I want to hear are the sounds you make when you come on my fingers.”
I didn’t have time to reply as I fell apart and forgot everything but how good it felt to feel Nico from the inside.