3. Valerie
3
VALERIE
I roll over in bed, stretching my arms and yawning. When I blink my eyes open, I panic momentarily at the unfamiliar surroundings until the memory of last night comes flooding in.
I’m at Enrico’s house. He offered his protection without a single word from me, further solidifying my belief that he’s a good man, regardless of his profession. I understand more than most that life is complicated, and people do what they have to do to survive. Especially in a city like this.
Waking up a bit more, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and hop down before making my way to the bathroom to get cleaned up a bit. When I step out of the most luxurious bathroom I’ve ever seen, I feel a bit more like myself.
Last night didn’t exactly follow the plan I so carefully constructed, and now I have some explaining to do. I was going to tell Enrico everything and throw myself at his mercy. Instead, I got tongue-tied and couldn’t find my voice. For all my planning and pep talks, I didn’t expect to freeze up like that.
When Enrico’s hazel eyes locked on mine, all the words fell out of my head, emptying my lungs of air at the same time. He was even more magnetic than I remembered, more commanding and in control. What could I possibly say to convince him to give me shelter?
Luckily, he didn’t need my words. Enrico knew what I was asking and provided it without question.
I take a deep breath and open the bedroom door, stepping out into the hallway. The hardwood floor is cold on my bare feet, but I don’t mind. It’s grounding, in a way. I’m here, out of that awful trailer and away from my abusive brother. Now, I need to come clean to Enrico, and we can figure out what to do next. I already know Enrico is the type of man ten steps ahead of everyone else. He’ll know what to do.
Enrico’s deep timbre echoes through the hallway, and I follow it into the main living room where we sat last night in front of the fireplace. I hang back for a moment when I realize he’s on the phone. I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but I don’t want to interrupt his conversation.
“This isn’t the time to take chances,” he says with all the authority of a dominating mafioso. “Those filthy fucking cops are planning their retaliation after the last stunt we pulled.” He pauses briefly, nodding. “I know, I know. It was for a good cause, and I’m glad Imogine is safe. That doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences for shooting a cop.”
I shrink into the shadows and wrap my arms around my torso to ease the guilt twisting my stomach. I know a little about what he’s referring to, though not much. My brother mentioned his partner getting shot in the shoulder during one of his drunken rants a few weeks ago.
“I’m just saying to be vigilant and aware of everything that happens in your territory.” Enrico sighs heavily and wipes a hand over his handsome face. “We’re circling the fuckers, and they’re getting desperate. They know their reign is coming to an end, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they had plans to infiltrate our ranks by any means necessary. Don’t trust anyone.”
My heart drops to the floor at his words. Will he think I’m betraying him? Or that my brother sent me to take down the Caparellis? If Enrico kicks me out, I’ll be alone in this world with nowhere to go.
Enrico tosses his phone on the coffee table and leans forward in his seat, placing his elbows on his knees. With another deep sigh, he lowers his head, resting it in his hands. My feet propel me forward before I have a chance to second-guess myself. I need to be near him, to comfort him the same way he comforted me last night, even if I’m the source of his misery at the moment.
When I’m about five feet away, Enrico’s head snaps up, those multi-colored eyes latching onto mine. The sharp look on his face softens, and his shoulders relax as he stands from the couch. It almost seems like he’s… relieved to see me? That can’t be right, but I so wish it were true. I commit his face and eyes to memory, hoping to capture every detail so I can draw him later.
“Good morning, Valerie,” he murmurs.
“Morning,” I squeak out. Why can’t I seem to act normal around this man?
“Follow me,” he says, holding his hand out.
I fold my hand in his, the tension in my body releasing as soon as we touch.“Anywhere,” I breathe, my cheeks glowing red when I realize I said the word out loud.
Enrico pauses and looks down at me, lifting an eyebrow at my response. His golden brown and green eyes darken for an instant, and a shiver runs down my spine. Not out of fear, more… desire. I want his dark gaze roaming all over my body, followed by his hands and lips.
God, whose thoughts are these? I need to keep it together. He can’t know about the silly crush I’ve had on him for years. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to act on any of these urges. I wouldn’t know the first thing about having a romantic relationship, physical or otherwise.
Enrico leads us through his immaculate kitchen and into a dining room with a large oak table and six chairs. My jaw literally drops open when I see the spread of food before me. Danishes, fresh fruit, yogurt, granola, a tray of mini egg and hashbrown casseroles, and a plethora of other decadent things are littered across nearly every inch of the expansive table.
“Are you expecting company?” I ask, bewildered.
Enrico chuckles and squeezes my hand as he guides me to sit in the chair at the head of the table. “I realized I didn’t feed you last night and wanted to make up for it this morning. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so…” He trails off and looks away, dropping my hand to rub the back of his neck.
Is he… nervous? Because of me? The all-powerful, decisive, commanding Underboss of the mafia is waiting for my approval? That can’t be right.
“This is more food than I’ve ever seen all at once,” I say stupidly. “I mean, thank you. I don’t even know what to say.”
Enrico turns his attention back to me, a smile curling up one side of his lips in satisfaction. He looks like he’s not sure if he should stay or leave me alone. I don’t want to be away from him right now, or ever, for that matter.
“Will you join me?”
“Of course,” comes his immediate response.
I go straight for the tray of pastries, then decide to add a few orange slices and a cluster of grapes to my plate. For a balanced meal, of course. Only after filling up my plate do I notice that Enrico hasn’t done the same. He’s studying me, and at first, I’m positive he’s judging my sugary breakfast choice along with my weight. Then I realize he’s simply curious as to what my preferences are.
“I’ll have Devin make more raspberry and cream cheese Danishes,” he says more as a note to himself than to me.
“Devin can make whatever he wants as long as it’s this good,” I tease.
Enrico smiles and nods before finally grabbing a mini casserole and some yogurt. Good, at least I’m not the only one eating.
“Are you ready to talk?—”
“Thank you for your hospitality,” I say, cutting him off.
I know it’s rude, but I can’t answer his questions right now. I need to figure out a way to explain that I’m not infiltrating the Caparellis, I’m just someone in need… who also happens to be related to someone in the small circle of cops trying to dismantle everything he’s worked so hard to build. Yeah, that’s going to go over well. Totally believable.
“Your home is gorgeous,” I continue. “The view from my room is something I want to sketch later.”
Enrico narrows his eyes at me, studying my every move. He knows I’m being evasive about my reasons for seeking him out, but he takes the bait anyway. “You draw?”
“Mostly candid portraits of city life, but I’ve also dabbled in landscapes.” I take a huge bite of the pastry in my hand, looking for an excuse not to answer any questions.
“My mother always had a sketchbook,” he replies, his voice low and wistful. “She drew these intricate flowers with colored pencils and somehow made them look exactly like a photograph. I could almost reach out and touch the water droplets on each petal.”
Enrico is focused on the tablecloth as if lost in a memory. The longing in his features tells an entire story. One marred in tragedy and pain. I don’t know what happened to his mom, but I can tell she’s no longer with us.
“Do you draw?” I ask, hoping to bring him back into the present with me. I don’t like seeing him sad.
Enrico chuckles. “Not even a little.” He grabs a carafe of coffee I didn’t notice before, filling his mug and offering it to me. “I never grew out of the stick-figure phase of art, despite my mother’s best efforts.”
I grin at him, loving the way he smiles back at me. “If you ever want to try again, I can give you a lesson. I usually work with charcoal, but the principles are the same as using pencils.”
“I don’t know if I’m capable of handling something so delicate.” His deep velvet voice and darkened gaze make me wonder if he’s talking about handling art supplies or handling me. “I haven’t thought about my mother’s sketches in a long time. I still have her sketchbooks in the basement if you want to take a look.”
I don’t know who’s more surprised at his offer, him or me. Enrico clears his throat, and I can tell he’s about to backtrack and rescind his offer.
“I’d love to see the sketches,” I say softly. “Thank you for trusting me.”
Enrico gives me a small smile, though my heart sinks. I haven’t given him any reason to trust me.
He opens his mouth to say something else but is cut off by his phone. Frowning, he looks between me and his phone on the table. He reluctantly grabs the noisy device and steps into the kitchen, though I swear he looks like he’d rather ignore it and keep talking with me. Or maybe I’m just projecting my feelings onto him.
Nothing good can come from hoping for things that will never happen.
When Enrico returns, he’s all business. “I have an urgent matter to attend to at work,” he says, each word measured. I can tell he’s gauging my reaction to see if I know the true nature of his work. I simply nod, letting him take the lead. “It won’t be long, I hope. Stay here, finish breakfast, and make yourself at home.”
Stupid tears prick the back of my eyes, and I blink them away before he can see them. But Enrico is by my side in the next second, kneeling in front of my chair.
“Sorry,” I murmur, cursing myself for the confusing rush of emotions. Guilt, gratitude, and doubt swirl in my mind, making me dizzy and overwhelmed.
“Don’t cry, angel,” he whispers.
Did he just call me angel? He has no idea. If he knew who my brother was… he might think I’m the devil.
“Sorry,” I say again, apparently unable to think of another word.
“You’re safe here, Valerie. My house has the best security system available, including staff on call twenty-four-seven.”
How can I tell him I’m concerned not only about my safety but also his? I’m crying because I don’t deserve his kindness, even if it’s what I was praying for all along. Now that I’m here in his presence, I don’t know what to do with myself.
“I trust you,” I say, meaning it with my entire being.
“Good girl.”
His praise sends another shiver down my spine, this time making my thighs twitch and my core throb. God, why is that so hot? I want to be his good girl. I want to please him in every way.
Enrico’s eyes glint with a look I can’t quite place. He sounds like he’s growling, but he covers it up with a cough before standing to his full height once more.
The magnetic, handsome older man walks toward the front door, looking over his shoulder at me one last time. “You’re safe here. You’re safe with me,” he promises.
I nod and swallow the lump in my throat. My stomach is in knots as he steps outside. This man has protected and provided for me twice now, and it wrecks me to harbor a secret from him.
How did I fuck things up so spectacularly already?
And how do I fix it?