Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Deuce
We should have seen this coming.
And under normal circumstances, we would have. But Valentina got cleared by the doctor, and wouldn’t you know it, she wanted to show her appreciation by keeping me up all night. I lost track of the number of orgasms I gave her and how many she dragged out of me. It was heaven. It was bliss.
The first light of dawn comes with a banging on my front door that is decidedly not bliss. Valentina sits up with a start, her dark hair a messy halo around her gorgeous face. Not even a residual black eye can mar her looks.
“I’ll get it,” I grumble, sliding out of bed and into a pair of boxer shorts.
“It’s Bettina.” Her voice is throaty and quiet and exactly the kind of tone that makes me want to jump back into this bed with her. It’s the actual words that stop me in my tracks.
“Shit.”
“Yeah. Wait for me. I’ll come down with you.”
So the banging continues while Valentina and I get dressed.
There’s no time for splashing water on our faces or combing hair.
Bettina won’t care anyway. She purposely arrived this early.
It’s a strategy of hers I’ve come to know very well: catch your adversary on their back foot so you have an advantage. But I’m not her adversary. I’m her son.
I’m not sure she knows the difference.
We throw open the front door, shoulder to shoulder in both physical and emotional lock-step. We’re in this together. We are officially and forever a we.
Bettina is also not alone, but her escorts are far from a partnership. The two men in all black stand two steps behind her, darting eyes taking in every possible threat, not an ounce of emotion on their faces.
“Betty,” I drawl, resorting to the bored playboy persona that’s always worked best around her.
Bettina’s gaze darts between us. Whatever she sees causes her eyes to roll and then she’s pushing past us, sure I won’t stop her from invading my house. The bodyguards try to enter as well, but I stop them by stepping into their path and putting up my hand.
“My mother will be perfectly safe with me inside.” My tone brooks no argument. They don’t look happy, but then again, no one does in my mother’s presence.
When Valentina and I get to the living room, my mother is already sitting on the couch, legs crossed, designer snakeskin boot already flicking up and down.
Impatience and anger practically crackle into the air from every pore.
I gesture to the chair for Valentina and choose to stay standing next to it.
“To what do we owe the pleasure, Mother?”
She slams her foot down on the floor. “Cut the shit, Deuce. Why are you both ignoring my calls? Do you have any idea of what I’ve been trying to clean up in New York thanks to your clumsy disposal of Fazio? I’ve had to ferret out his minions as they run in all directions.”
A laugh bubbles up from my chest, but there’s no humor in it. I put a hand on Valentina’s shoulder. She’s so pissed she’s practically levitating out of her chair.
“I’m sorry our kidnapping and brush with death has foiled your plans this week.”
Bettina rolls her eyes again. “Oh, please. Fazio wouldn’t have hurt either one of you.”
“What about Marcel though?” Valentina says, her voice icy cold. “Maybe he wouldn’t have hurt your precious son or the woman he’s been obsessed with his whole life, but he could have very easily harmed Marcel.”
That seems to have broken through Bettina’s callous exterior. “I had no idea he was in such bad shape or that Fazio knew he was your father.”
“That’s the thing, Betty. The way you live, there are always unintended consequences. Collateral damage. And I thought I made this clear many years ago, but I want nothing to do with that life any longer.”
Bettina lifts her nose in the air. “I had to keep Valentina safe. You’re both very important to me.”
I fold my arms across my chest, wishing it didn’t hurt so much. “Is that why you refused to give up control in exchange for our safety? Because we’re so important to you?”
She bats her hand through the air. “He wouldn’t have hurt you.”
“That’s not a bet you should have been making,” Valentina interjects.
Bettina pins her with a no-nonsense look.
“You’ve been in my shoes. You know our bets are high stake.
That’s why you have to have nerves of steel to do what we do.
That’s why we’re excellent at it. We don’t sit there and wring our hands with what-ifs.
We execute. And if there’s collateral damage, then we deal with it later. ”
Valentina is shaking her head. I know she now sees my mother the way I see her. Hard. Unfeeling.
“That’s just it, Bettina. I don’t want to live that way any longer. Haven’t wanted to in a while, if I’m being honest. Whatever plans you have for New York…count me out.”
Bettina’s mouth snaps shut. She inhales once, then twice, blinking repeatedly as she thinks.
I step forward, not wanting to hurt her unnecessarily, but also needing to drive home our position.
“You’re my mother and I will always love you, but I need to do that from afar.
Neither of us wants anything to do with your way of life going forward.
We believe it best for you to go back to New York and we’ll stay here.
Phone communication can be discussed as time goes on. Please respect our boundaries.”
“Well…I…” Bettina seems to be at a loss for words.
“Ma’am?” One of the bodyguards runs into the room. “We have a problem.”
“Not now!” Bettina snaps.
The bodyguard is not deterred, which tells me he hasn’t been working for Bettina for very long. “There’s a crowd gathering outside.”
That gets our attention. Valentina, Bettina, and I all head for the front door, peeking out the windows on either side of the door. My mother has her gun drawn, Valentina has her knife in hand, and I have my head in my hand.
“Jesus,” I mutter.
It’s a crowd alright. Led by my father in a wheelchair (pushed by Tommy) and Birdie.
Neighbors and friends are in the group right behind them, all talking at once and pointing toward my house as they take up the entirety of my driveway.
The lone bodyguard is backed against one of the porch railings, wiping sweat from his forehead as he attempts to calm the crowd.
With a silent prayer for patience, I push the two ladies out of the way and head outside to address my friends.
“Nothing to see here, folks!” I holler.
The crowd noise dies down just a smidge, but my father shouts his own question that re-energizes the crowd.
“Is that woman in there with you, son? She was spotted arriving in Heaven last night.”
“I heard she’s the Mafia Maven!” shouts someone else.
I hold my hands up until they get quiet again. “Yes, she’s here to clear some things up, but she was just leaving.”
Mary London pushes to the front of the crowd, careful to keep an arm out to protect Ophelia strapped to her chest. “She can’t have Valentina!”
“She’ll have to gun us all down to take Valentina,” says Rhett, pushing his way to the front to rest his hand on his wife’s shoulder. You can’t miss the pistol holstered to his belt.
“Valentina’s one of us, son. Bettina’s gotta leave her alone.” That was from my dad, sounding more like the thunderous professor that I remember from my youth.
Valentina steps outside, knife sheathed below her skirt again. Her hand slips into mine and our fingers entwine. “I’m not going anywhere,” she says loudly enough for everyone to hear.
“Damn right you’re not,” I say quietly, looking at her with all the admiration of a besotted man.
Bettina steps out onto the porch, her bodyguard right behind her. The crowd shifts from cheers to boos. She rolls her eyes, but lifts her nose in the air to march down the stairs. She turns and points at both of us, having to raise her voice to be heard.
“We’ll speak later about all this. Once I’m back in New York. Like you wanted.”
It’s not an admission that she’ll adhere to our wishes. It’s not even close to an apology for all the ways in which she’s let us down. But it’s a small concession that hints at us being able to have a relationship down the line. Quite frankly, it’s more than I thought she’d give.
The crowd, as if the whole thing had been choreographed ahead of time, starts throwing flowers at my mother.
She bats them away easily and spits out a few baffled curse words, but safely makes it to the black sedan she came in.
The bodyguards back the car down the driveway and pull away. The crowd cheers at her departure.
“What the heaven was all that?” I ask on a laugh. Dozens of flowers now litter my driveway.
Birdie smirks. “That right there is what you call a good ol’-fashioned Southern flowering. We tried vegetables when it was Rhett’s granddaddy being an idiot, but have you seen the price of vegetables lately? We got some old flowers on their way out from the florist.”
“Plus it’s environmentally friendly,” Mary London chirps.
“Y’all are crazy,” Valentina sputters, still laughing over the sight of flowers being chucked at Bettina’s head.
“Did you just use y’all?” Betsy shouts, then whoops it up.
The crowd cheers again before dispersing. They’re probably off to call their friends and tell them all about their Mafia Maven sighting. Papa lingers, waving at Tommy to roll him closer to the porch.
“We won’t stand for Bettina pestering you two. You may feel a bit helpless when it comes to that woman—believe me, I know the feeling—but I think you’ll find that Heaven has your back, and that’s all you really need.”
Valentina lets go of my hand and flies down the stairs to wrap her arms around Papa’s neck. They both come away from that hug with tears in their eyes.
Her broken voice is barely audible. “Thank you, Marcel.”
“Always, girl.” Papa pats her hand and I think he knows exactly what his acceptance and support of Valentina means to her.
“I got something for you.”
I frown at Valentina as she walks backward from the bathroom to our bedroom. She insisted we had to brush teeth before we could go on with our day. Tossing the toothbrush into the sink, I follow her. She’s got a look in her eyes that I want to investigate.
She stops when the back of her calves hit the bed. Reaching down for the hemline of her dress, she whips it up and over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She didn’t have time to put on a bra before we dealt with Bettina and I’m damn grateful for the dawn interruption.
“In all the craziness of yesterday, I forgot to give it to you.”
My gaze wanders up and down her body several times before I register what she just said. “I’m pretty sure you gave it to me all night long, baby.”
She grins, a confident woman who knows the man before her likes what he’s seeing. “No, not that.” She turns and walks to the nightstand, taking out a cardboard box. “This.”
I whip my polo shirt over my head, wanting to be as nearly naked as she is. Whatever’s in that box can wait. My hands barely get to skimming over her hips when she jabs the box in my stomach.
“It’s not polite to ignore an offered present,” she singsongs.
“I’ve got a present too,” I growl, pressing my hips into hers. She grins again, but isn’t deterred.
“This first.”
With a sigh, I release her hips and step back, taking the box. I rip it open and pull out two round things. I have to flip them right side up to see what they are, and when I get a good look at them, I let out a loud guffaw.
Valentina gave me two battery-operated candles.
“So we don’t burn the house down when we make love,” she explains as I continue to laugh.
She takes them out of my hands one at a time and flips a switch on the bottom. A fake flame begins to flicker. She sets them on the nightstand, and I have to admit, they look damn good. Basically like the real thing. And most importantly, not flammable.
“The batteries are supposed to last a hundred hours of use.” Valentina grabs me through my boxers, making me lurch. “Think you can last that long?”
I was already hard from looking at her naked breasts, but add in a challenge?
Damn, this woman knows how to make me perform my best. My hands slide over her bare shoulders.
Then I pick her up and toss her onto the bed, flipping her over and running my fingers over the black lace thong that covers nothing.
I pull and let it snap back against her skin. She moans into the mattress.
I won’t last an hour, let alone a hundred.
“Only one way to find out,” I answer through gritted teeth.
Pulling her hips up and back to the edge of the bed, I shove my boxers down around my ankles and enter her in one swift thrust. She yells my name and I send up silent praise that it wasn’t ciuccio that fell from her lips.
She meets me thrust for thrust, her lush curves slapping against my hips, always so eager for more. Then again, I am too. I’m eager for more time, more years, more experiences, just more Valentina.
When I feel her tighten around me, I pull out entirely and flip her over onto her back. She pouts, her cheeks flushed and her breath coming in rapid gulps of air.
“Damn you, ciuccio.”
I smile down at her, pulling her knee up to her chest. “I’ll have you screaming my name in a minute, baby. But I want to look at you when you do.”
I slide inside of her heat, the sensation of becoming one with her body something I’ll never get used to. She feels like this house, this town, is finally my home. She’s the missing piece I didn’t know I was looking for.
She tightens around me again almost instantly.
Her curses switch to declarations of love, a switch that feels like finally scratching an itch I couldn’t reach.
I slow my thrusts, watching every nuance of her expressions, storing them all in my mind.
When she rolls her head back, neck arched to the ceiling, a desperate cry leaving her lips, I drop down onto her, my full weight pressing her into the bed.
I grind my hips one last time, needing to be as close to her as I can possibly be.
My own orgasm takes over like the rolling of an ocean wave that sucks you under.
My lips form a promise that gets etched into the skin of her neck.
“My first, my last.”