Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
EMILIANO
T here are only a couple of times I’ve fucked up and regretted it. Kissing Valentina Moretti is definitely not one of them. I scowl at Romiro, who’s still standing in the kitchen, smirking at us like he’s caught us with our hands in the cookie jar. Valentina’s gaze is set on the marble tiles, refusing to meet my gaze. I sigh and walk past her, stopping with my back to her.
“Go to your room,” I whisper, low enough for Romiro not to hear, and then continue toward him.
“Come on.” I drag him by his elbow out of the kitchen. I ignore the looks he keeps throwing at me as we make our way through the hallways.
“I told you, you had a thing for the Moretti girl,” he teases. I continue to ignore him until we've reached my office.
“I thought I told you to go check on Dom.” I stand behind my desk with my hands in my pockets.
Romiro shuts the office door before speaking up. “I know, but something happened that needed your urgent attention.” Alarm bells ring in my head as I take a seat in my office chair.
“What is it?”
“They found another dead girl. This time, a socialite from the Hoffmann family.”
Fuck. I groan as I rub my hands over my face, trying to make sense of who could be killing these girls.
“Has Ernie contacted us yet?” I ask.
Romiro shakes his head.
That means he’s either scheming or grieving. There wasn’t an in-between for the Hoffmans.
Placing my elbows on my desk, I rest my chin on my fists.
“Rom, I need you to call up the Vipers and see if they’ve had any dead girls in their territory. Also, check on Dom before coming to see me.”
He nods before turning to head out.
“Eli, don’t think I forgot what I saw in the kitchen, and when I come back, I want to know what's going on,” he says, his hand on the door knob. I blow out a breath.
“As my friend, or as the Capo’s advisor?” I ask.
His shoulders stiffen before he replies, “Both.” The door closes with a click and the office settles.
I lean back into my chair and run my thumb across my jaw. Pink pouty lips, flushed cheeks, and wide doe eyes. No! I can’t let this happen again. She is the fucking enemy. I groan into my hands. I can’t believe I fucking kissed her, and if Romiro hadn’t walked in that second, I know for sure that I wouldn’t have stopped.
I really need to get laid. This whole thing is so messed up. Her inexperience was clear as day, but that didn’t give me pause. It only makes me want to corrupt her, completely ruin her for anyone else. A twist of possessiveness buries itself into my chest at the thought of anyone else having her.
The sound of laughter drifts into my office from the open window. As I rise from my chair, another laugh makes me stop in my tracks. It’s soft and airy, as if the person laughing doesn’t have a worry in the world, but I know that it isn’t true. I stand by the window and watch my brothers, Mara, Ma, and Aunt Clarissa, and Valentina, all sitting by one of the trees on a wooden bench.
I can tell by their body language that they are enjoying themselves. I can only make out the faintest words of their conversation as it floats in my direction.
I leave my office and head to my bedroom, needing a shower to clear my thoughts. The room has been tidied up and all my papers are stacked on my coffee table in front of my fireplace. I yank off my suit and throw it over the couch, unbuttoning my black dress shirt as I head toward the bathroom and fling it on the floor. When I’m finally in the bathroom, I’m left in my slacks and socks. I quickly discard them and set the shower to the highest temperature.
The scolding water drums down my back as I step under the showerhead. I squeeze my eyes shut and the image of Valentina’s lips flash in my head, another of her on my bed making my stomach flip, and my cock hardens. I breathe harshly through my nose, gritting my teeth. Just this once , I think to myself as I grab the base of my hard cock and begin to slowly stroke it. Soon, my groans fill the steamy bathroom, and I speed up my movements as I squeeze my eyes shut. I see myself between her legs, taking my sweet damn time with her. Gritting my teeth, I feel the control slip from between my fingers. My hips thrust forward, trying to create more friction, while my hand continues its frantic stroking. As I imagine Valentina between my legs, waiting for my cum, my breaths come out harsh and I’m unraveling.
My chest heaves with the effort of trying to gulp as much air as possible, dick now limp as cum drips off the head and swirls in the drain. I watch it, feeling worse than I did at the beginning, before I decided to fucking masturbate to a fantasy that will never fucking happen. I calm my breathing down, then proceed to finish washing my hair and body before wrapping a towel around my midriff.
I need to get away before I do something that will completely ruin my plans. I can’t let some girl stand in the way of avenging my Pop, no matter how much I desire her.
With frustration burning through my chest, I comb my hair as I dry it and throw on some comfortable clothes.
Grabbing my papers off the coffee table and dropping onto my couch, I sift through them. I lean back and try to focus on what’s in front of me, but all I can think of is Valentina. Gritting my teeth, I throw the stack of papers back onto the coffee table and run my hands through my hair. My phone rings from the inside pocket of the suit jacket that I’d placed on the couch next to me.
A smirk threatens to break out on my face as I see that a Chicago number is calling.
“I didn’t expect a call this early after our last one,” I taunt as I answer after the third ring.
“This is Diletta Moretti. I want to speak to my daughter.”
My lips curl at the idiocy of Alvize Moretti to have his wife beg for him. I thought the Outfit prided themselves for their so-called honor.
“No,” I reply sharply.
“I beg of you, my husband doesn’t know I called you. I just want to speak to my daughter. I don’t want to have called you all for nothing.”
Desperation reeks from her voice. And the fact that she has called me behind her husband's back is definitely interesting.
“You only will speak with her for a minute, no less and definitely no more.”
“Yes, yes, thank you.” She’s whispering now, which probably means that someone might be near.
I tell her to wait a moment as I head down the stairs. My Mom, my aunt, Valentina, and my sister are still sitting on the bench outside. Making my way across the garden, passing the pool, Valentina is the one to first spot me, but then my Mom does and so does the rest. Matteo and Lucio are nowhere to be found, hopefully not doing something they shouldn’t be. I stop beside the bench.
“You, up.” Without saying another word, I turn back toward the house. The sound of footsteps echo as she walks across the tiled area of the pool to follow me. Once we reach the living room, I turn around abruptly, which causes her to bump into my chest. I grab her elbow to steady her, and she tilts her head up to look at me. I grit my teeth and let go of her, taking a couple of steps back.
“Here.” I extend my arm for her to grab the phone, but she just stares at me, eyes wide. Snapping my finger in front of her face, she scowls at me before snatching the phone.
“Hello?” Her voice is soft and full of confusion, but her eyes throw daggers at me. I raise an eyebrow at her, but she isn’t looking at me anymore.
“Mom, how have you been? I miss you. No, I’m fine, as fine as a person held against their will can be.” Her voice has taken a different edge to it.
“Has Dad…” She pauses, looking at me.
“Mom, I’m not in New York anymo-” I snatch the phone out of her hand before she can finish her sentence and end the call.
Her eyes narrow at me. “I wasn’t done,” she says, as my face remains closed off.
“I don’t give a fuck if you weren’t done. Your dear Mom was only promised a minute. That’s all you get.”
She stares at me, jaw locked and eyes narrowed. I should leave before I do something I really shouldn’t.
Before I do the correct thing and leave, I make the fucking mistake of letting my eyes trail down her petite frame. Fuck me thirty ways till Sunday. She is something to behold. She’s wearing a red maxi dress with a black cardigan on top to keep her warm and her dark hair is swooped to the side, reaching her hip. When my eyes make their way back up, I can see that she is so flushed she nearly resembles the beetroots I grow every year.
“Why are you such an asshole?” Her lips curl as she tries to land an insult.
“Is that the best you could do? How disappointing.” My eyes narrow as she steps closer.
“I suggest you sleep with one eye open because a man like you must piss off a lot of people.”
Her bright eyes and pink cheeks make me wonder how she would look if I fuck her.
I clench my jaw and do what I should have done after I ended that call and walk away. On my way to my room, I decide to call the family pilot and tell him to get ready because I’m flying back to New York. I need to leave; this whole thing is fucking with my head. Besides, I have a meeting with that asshole Stefano.
Once I reach my room, I grab the papers off my coffee table and stuff them into one of my bags. I collect anything else that I’ll need in New York for the week before calling Romiro.
“I’m going to kill you if you’re calling me to go to the airport,” he says, and I release a sigh.
“I’m not asking you to come along. I’m calling you to tell you that I’ll be in New York for the week and need you to make sure our little prisoner doesn’t do something she’ll regret.”
There’s a pause on the line before he gasps.
“Emiliano, Capo of the Camorra, runs from the daughter of the enemy because he can’t handle his sexual feelings,” he says in a dramatic voice. I grit my teeth and tell him to shut up and to call me if there is an emergency before ending the call.
I don’t run into anyone on the way down to my car, thankfully. Looking back at the house through the rear-view mirror, I wonder if I’m running away just because I’m in denial. I shake my head before turning my attention back on the road as I drive out of the open gates.
* * *
The jet lands in New York just before seven in the evening. I see that Ma has texted me back.
Eli
Hey, Ma, I’m staying in New York for the week. Call me if you need anything.
Ma
You couldn’t tell me before you left? I barely see you anymore. Stay safe.
Eli
Sorry, I was in a rush.
Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I slide into the car, thanking my driver for opening the door. We reach my apartment half an hour later, and I take the golden elevators to the top.
* * *
The lobby of Folonari Enterprise is full of employees, guests, and reporters, all waiting to snap a photo or a small nugget of information on us. My shoes click against the black quartz lobby floor, walking past the reception desk. Silvio follows me, the sound of the papers he’s shuffling filling my ears.
“Mr. Folonari, would you like to make a comment on the disappearance of your family from the social gatherings at the Hoffmans this year?” I fight the urge to snap that stupid mic the reporter has in my face. Instead, I keep walking ahead, ignoring them.
“Security needs to get them the fuck out of my building, or else I’ll be fucking up each and every one of their lives,” I order Silvio. He pulls out his phone, typing on it before sliding it back into his suit jacket.
“Stefano is waiting upstairs in conference room 451B,” Silvio tells me as we make our way to the elevators reserved for the three top floors. The elevator doors distort our reflections as we stop in front of them. A twinge of satisfaction finds its way into my chest at the thought that Stefani Gambi is waiting for me to meet with him.
“How long?” My voice doesn’t betray my emotions as we step into the elevator.
“Around half an hour; he’s been quite antsy.”
I run my tongue across my top teeth as the elevator slides up.
“Have the lawyers gone through all the paperwork we need for this meeting?” Pulling on my tie to loosen it, I tab through my emails, and messages.
“Yeah, they have, and they’ve found a couple of things we could probably bargain more for.”
Interesting. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that Gambi is trying to fuck us over in every aspect of our business partnership. The elevator doors open with a hiss, which grates on my nerves.
“Get the mechanic to look at those elevator doors. They shouldn’t be making any kind of noise.”
Silvio nods before he slips away. The walls are gray, with accents of blood red. The black carpet mutes my steps as I make my way toward the conference room. I don’t knock, swinging the door open and walking in. I’m stopped dead in my tracks when I spot Stefano sitting in my seat, behind the glass meeting table. My lips twist into a disgusted snarl.
“Get the fuck out of my seat, Gambi.” Instead of doing what I told him to, he leans back into the seat, flashing me a grin.
“Good to see you too, Folonari.” Stefano taps his hands on the table before getting up and making his way to me. “You know, the Morettis have tried to uh…how do I say this? They’ve contacted us to ask an interesting favor.”
Clenching my teeth, I move around him and walk toward my seat.
Keeping my voice casual, I ask, “And pray tell what that fucking favor was?”
He twists to me, an amused grin on his stupid face.
“You have their daughter. Valentina, is it?” Stefano moves to the seat opposite mine like the serpent he is. I fight the urge to cut him to pieces with my ancestors’ dagger, just for uttering her name. Clenching my jaw, I press the button for the blinds to go down on the floor-to-ceiling windows, blocking the sunlight.
“Just fucking say it, Stefano, I don’t have the fucking time for your bullshit,” I snap.
He clicks his tongue as he leans forward, placing his elbows on the table, an amused grin stretching his lips, but it doesn’t reach his mismatched eyes.
“You’re no fun. They wanted us to help them get Valentina back to Chicago in exchange for a hefty load of cocaine.”
Cracking my knuckles before I lean back in my seat, I give Stefano a humorless smile.
“And I suppose you have a proposition for me?” I ask.
His grin falters for just a second, and I lean forward before I continue.
“Stefano, you know you’re in my territory and that you need me. Not the other way around.”
Stefano narrows his eyes, and he’s about to respond, but he’s cut off when his lawyer and mine walk into the conference room.
* * *
Something feels off, but I don’t know what it is. Making my way toward my kitchen, my feet against the dark mahogany floors is the only sound echoing in the space. I place my phone on the island before I move around the table to the green cupboards, looking for my coffee mix. Finding it in the third cupboard, I take it out and put two tablespoons into the Arabic coffee pot, just as my phone pings.
New message from Rom.
My brow furrows, confused as to what could be so important that Romiro is messaging me at five in the morning.
Rom
Hey, asshole, just thought you should know that Valentina has been sick for the past couple of days.
Eli
What the fuck do you mean? Sick how?
Rom
I don’t know if the atmosphere in New York affects your comprehension abilities, but she has been out for the past two days with a high fever.
Eli
Why the fuck haven’t I heard about this before today?
Rom
I thought you didn’t care.
Eli
Don’t make random assumptions, you fucking idiot.
Rom
Hate the message not the messenger.
Eli
You’re an idiot. I’ll be in New Hampshire in a couple of hours.
The sound of my coffee overflowing onto the stove fills the kitchen, and I wince when I turn and see the mess it's created. Dumping the pot into the sink, I make my way back to my room, throwing on a random blue suit before leaving the apartment.
* * *
By the time the jet lands in New Hampshire, I have a splitting headache that I have to power through to get to our house. Heading up the grand staircase toward the front door, Romiro meets me near them, a smug look on his face.
“Wipe that smug fucking look off your face before I wipe you off this planet.”
He shrugs at my threat as I head straight to the room I placed Val in, Romiro hot on my trail.
“What did the doctor say?” I pause at the top of the stairs when I don’t get a response and turn to look at Romiro. “Tell me you got a doctor to see her,” I demand. Romiro rubs his hand over the back of his neck.
“Alessia was checking on her every day…”
I can’t leave these fucking idiots for two days without them needing me to tell them what they should be doing.
“You’re more of a fucking idiot than I thought you would be.” Turning back around, my steps pound as I make my way into Valentina’s room. Mara, Alessia, and Ma are all sitting in chairs around a sleeping Valentina. But she doesn’t just look like she’s sleeping, she looks like she’s dying. Her normally tan face is a pale greenish color, and when I step closer, her pillow looks like it’s been drenched with a gallon of water.
“Oh my God, you’re finally back. Please tell me you’ll call a doctor for the poor girl.” I barely register what my Ma says as I feel a lead ball of guilt settle in the pit of my stomach.
“Yeah, Romiro, go call Callahan. Tell him I’ll triple his salary if he can get here in the next hour.” Placing the back of my hand on her forehead, I check her temperature. She’s burning up.
“How did she get sick?” I ask no one in particular.
Mara is the one who answers. “We found her in the bathroom passed out in her clothes under the shower, her clothes drenched.”
My throat constricts, and I swallow, trying to elevate the pressure building.
“Alessia, do you know why she’s sick?” I ask as I turn to my cousin, who looks at Valentina and back at me.
“She most likely has a weak immune system. I’m not entirely too sure, but she probably had a virus,” she says.
I turn and face Ma and Mara before announcing, “She’s not staying in this room. I’m moving her to my room,” I say to them. Ma opens her mouth to protest, but I beat her to it. “Ma, come on, you can’t seriously expect me to let her stay here. None of you have even taken proper care of her.” That makes her clam her mouth shut, turning around to face Valentina. I slip my arms under her and lift her off the bed. Valentina stirs around and makes a deep groan at the back of her throat when I’m half-way down the stairs.
“What…no. I don’t want to.” She thrashes, and I have to tighten my grip on her so she doesn’t fall.
I lean down until I’m close enough to whisper, “Shhh. You’re fine. Go back to sleep.” Standing still, I wait for her to go back to sleep before moving off the stairs and toward my own wing.
* * *
Callahan arrived a couple of hours ago, checked on Valentina, and prescribed some medicine for the fever, which I sent Romiro to pick up. Now, it’s around midnight and everyone has retired to their rooms. She hasn’t opened her eyes again since she woke up while we were on the stairs. I’d dragged the armchair into my room next to the bed to make sure her temperature didn't rise. A groan that slips from between her lips makes me throw my book down on the bedside table.
“W…water. I’d like some water…pl…please,” she groans.
Reaching out, I pour her a cup of water and help her to sit, holding the cup to her lips. I don’t let the cup go, even when she grabs it with both hands, shaking like a leaf. Valentina’s eyes only open ever-so-slightly before they shutter closed once again as she drinks. I pull it back when she coughs and nearly chokes.
“Slow down, tiger, the water isn’t going anywhere. I promise.” Every muscle in my body pulls taut when she rests her head on my shoulder. I have to force myself to relax because she’s sick.
“You’re so nice.” Her voice is barely an audible whisper.
“I’m really not that nice.” I don’t know why I’m whispering, but I don’t want to startle her.
“No, maybe not by normal people's standards, but in our world, you are, at least compared to my Pop.”
My jaw clenches as I fight off the urge to bulldoze into asking her about what she means. Instead, I settle for, “I doubt that very much.”
“You seem to be doubting a lot of things. You know, I think I like all the green in your room. I used to think green was an ugly color, but I’ve grown quite fond of it.”
The little nugget of information she has given me feels more like a gold bar than anything else, but I don’t ask for more. As I open my mouth to reply, a snore interrupts me, and when I look down at her, I find her sleeping. Taking in her relaxed state, I lay her back down on the pillow. Her temperature has gone down, but it's still quite high.
“I think I’m becoming quite fond of something I unfortunately cannot keep or replace.”
Brushing some strands out of her face, I swallow roughly and take a deep breath. With one more look, I turn back around and place the cup back on the bedside table, grabbing my book. Then I lean back into my seat, waiting for her.