Chapter 16
VAL
Stefano marched out of the ladies’ room, ready to conquer the world, and I collapsed onto the toilet, taking a minute to catch my breath and collect my thoughts after silently saying goodbye.
Sex with him had always been earth-shattering, but nothing compared to this time. We had connected on a different plane, like our souls had come together in the same place and at the same time to become one after existing separately for so long.
Why now, though? How cruel could God be, letting me find my everything, all I’d ever wanted, the man I needed, only to rip it away from me? Why did my last moments with Stefano have to be so incredible?
Tears flowed from my eyes, rolling down my cheeks, each one faster than the last, and I couldn’t make them stop.
The aching in my chest intensified.
My nonna had taught me that crying was an expensive luxury, an indulgence women like us couldn’t afford in large portions or with any frequency. Of course, she was right.
But fuck it—I couldn’t prevent the overwhelming eruption of emotions from taking me down nor did I want to. The pain, the stress, sorrow, anger, fear, and even regret imploded within me, my heart breaking into tiny pieces all over again.
I allowed myself three gut-wrenching sobs before straightening my spine and moving my ass out of the stall.
I frowned at my reflection in the mirror.
Mother of Christ, how did one sort out makeup and hair like the mess Stefano and I had made of mine? I thanked God, though, for waterproof mascara and a complexion that required little foundation if any.
After doing my best to clean up all the red lipstick smears and reapply it where it belonged, I smoothed and straightened everything else.
I tilted my head, gazing at myself again. I actually looked more presentable than I’d thought possible… and yet somehow still freshly fucked, as Stefano would say.
Taking in a deep breath, I strode out of the ladies’ room to go find my little brother and my shoes.
The long hallway with its soft, red carpet running down the center felt like an invitation to run to my freedom. I stopped and stared at the fire exit door at the far end.
If only this princess could have her fairy tale moment on the palace stairs as she escaped at the stroke of midnight. Sadly, the warden of the night kept my shoes nice and safe.
No Cinderella moments for me. Not even if my own Prince Charming thought he could make a deal with the devil.
When I entered the ballroom, classical music filled the air. Guests drank, danced, laughed, whispered secrets, and hatched their schemes for world domination.
These events were all the same. Nothing out of place, as if no one had noticed my absence at all.
Well, Santo had for sure, and he now waited just inside the door with my strappy heels dangling from his fingers.
“Thank you,” I said.
I gazed at the floor as I took my shoes from him, hoping he couldn’t read my face and figure out what had happened.
There was no telling what Aris or Saul would do if they found out.
No, I knew exactly what they’d do. It would start with them killing Stefano while I watched and then end with my death.
Or something even worse.
I slid my shoes onto my feet, wincing as I put weight on the new blisters they’d already given me, and tried to act normal.
Santo raised a brow and looked me up and down.
“So… have fun in the restroom?”
I shrugged, feigning innocence.
“Yes, actually, I did enjoy it. I ran into an old friend.”
“Huh.” He rolled his eyes. “Just wondering how often you entertain men in public ladies’ rooms.”
My cheeks burned as I grabbed an ice-cold champagne from the tray of a passing server.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
My brother gave me a knowing smile.
“I saw your man walk out. I know what you were doing in there. Who would’ve thought you had a sex-in-public kink? I mean, fucking gross because you’re my sister, but also ballsy. You’re playing with some serious fire. It’s impressive. Or really stupid. We’ll have to wait and see how it turns out.”
“You don’t know a thing, Santo.”
I poked him, then pressed the glass to my cheek, hoping it would cool away some of my flush.
He looked down his nose at me.
“Yeah, no, let me tell you what I know, Valentina. I know you spent thirty minutes in that restroom, and although it’s one hundred percent understandable to need a break from the gossipy bitches in this room, that’s a long time.
I worried at first you got sick or made a break for it without your shoes. ”
“And in Chicago, in the winter,” I added.
Then he gave me a deadpan stare.
I fingered the pearls hanging around my neck like he’d accused me of something scandalous. Well, he kinda had.
And he wasn’t wrong.
“Okay, just stop it now, Santo.”
He didn’t stop, though. My brother had much more to say.
“I stopped worrying after a very familiar man stomped past following you. I didn’t need much else to figure it out. Especially when the asshole came out grinning like an idiot. Like a satisfied idiot, but still.”
If Santo had seen him, who else had noticed? I couldn’t help but wonder how many other people knew. And why did my little brother take so much pleasure in my embarrassment over getting caught?
“Please stop,” I murmured. “Please. Please. Stop.”
“But I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet,” he said.
I gulped champagne before signaling for him to continue.
“See, as soon as he stormed out of the restroom, he picked up the girl he came with. She didn’t look pissed at all, just bored, maybe a little annoyed. And she went with him into the room where Father’s holding his meetings tonight.”
I sucked in a shaky breath and nodded.
“What are the chances he walks out breathing?”
“Not bad actually,” Santo said. “He’s got a fifty-fifty shot because Marco’s also in there. I know he’s pulling for you. And just between us, our brother’s planning something. I think he’s hoping your boyfriend can be useful to him in a few years.”
“Wait—really?”
Interesting. Maybe I had a chance at that Disney moment.
“Yeah, really. So I’d say he does have a good chance, but…”
“But?”
Santo sighed. “Aris is in there, too, and he’s off his meds. If I were you, I’d be more worried about Aris antagonizing your baby daddy enough to make him lose his shit. How good is the man with temper control?”
“We’re all fucked,” I said, shaking my head. “Wait—when did Aris start taking meds?”
Santo scoffed. “I fucking wish. Figure of speech.”
I took another drink, needing more alcohol to dull my mounting anxiety, and stared at the doors, wishing I could see through them and past the next wall into that meeting room.
“There’s some hope, right, since we’re in public? Maybe that’ll keep Saul somewhere in the ‘no felonies’ civility zone.”
“I don’t honestly know what’s gonna happen in there, sister, but I think he’ll walk out. Just not sure if he’ll walk out with the good news you’re hoping for. I don’t know if the Russians have talked to Father yet, so who knows.”
“Have they arrived?”
My nerves itched with the need to get that little meet-and-greet over with, so we could all move on.
Santo’s gaze followed someone approaching behind me.
“Shit. I think they’re coming this way now.”
My breath hitched, and I turned just in time to see a large man with blond hair and pockmarked skin in a red tuxedo.
“No one ever said they had to be attractive, but Christ, would a little style kill them?” Santo murmured.
“Maybe,” I said under my breath. “So why risk it?”
“Good evening,” the man said, his voice heavily accented.
He stepped in close, extended his hand, and took Santo’s with forced cordiality. I wasn’t offered the same courtesy. Instead, the Russian looked me up and down like I was a piece of meat or an expensive doll before turning back to my brother.
“This is the one, yes?”
Santo put his hand on my lower back.
“It is. Ivan, allow me to introduce my sister, Valentina.”
The Russian stared at my cleavage, speaking only to Santo.
“She is very lovely. Like a woman made to fuck.”
I bit down on the inside of my cheek. The champagne in my stomach surged up to my throat, and I swallowed hard to keep from spraying the creep’s ugly tux.
My brother clenched his jaw muscles.
“Listen. This is my sister, and she still belongs to my father at this point, so show some respect.”
Ivan slapped his belly, threw back his head, and laughed.
“I mean no disrespect. But we all know the circumstances. She’s no longer pure or worthy of marriage or giving my boss his heirs. We hear she gave some low-level Italian a bastard.”
My blood burned like fire through my veins.
How dare he speak that way about me while I stood right there? How dare he talk about Stefano and Enzo like that?
A menacing gleam darkened Santo’s eyes.
“Regardless. Look around. Some civility is in order.”
The Russian laughed again and waved him off.
“Women bought to be whores do not deserve civility.”
Santo’s hands flexed at his sides. I shot him a warning look, though I would’ve really preferred to offer him my help.
The stupid Russian didn’t seem to notice.
He was too busy circling me, like a buyer at a car dealership or a starving man at a butcher shop.
I half expected him to request a test drive—in which case I would’ve broken his big, ugly nose.
Judging by its crookedness, it wouldn’t have been the first time.
The idea of anyone but Stefano touching me made my skin crawl. Everything about it felt wrong. Mortal sin wrong.
“Yes, I think she will do nicely,” Ivan added. “Many of the men like women with… how do you say? Extra in the trunk?”
Did this asshole just call me fat?
“When looking for a wife,” he continued, “we prefer slender Russian women. But for a whore, more junk is a good change.”
Never mind his nose. I wanted to break his fucking cock.
Ivan got out his phone and circled me again, making a video, then snapped photos of my chest and the way my dress hugged my ass before slipping his phone back into his breast pocket.
“Yes, I think the boss will be happy to add this one. I will send him the video and my recommendation. He will call your father with an offer. Good evening.”
With his evaluation now completed, Ivan walked away.
I’d never felt so violated in my life.
Fuming, I turned to Santo.
“Is it just me, or did being in his presence make your trigger finger like super itchy?”
“Yeah,” Santo admitted. “I love how you say it like you’ve actually killed a man before.”
I stared at him over my glass with a raised brow.
My brother lifted his chin as if impressed.
“The fuck? Really? Who?”
“The last man who thought I was his property to abuse. I shot him with his own pistol.”
I winced. I’d said it so matter-of-factly.
Maybe because it felt like it happened a long time ago, to someone else. The trauma had joined all my other nightmares, lurking in the recesses of my mind, the hiding place for the things that should have broken me but hadn’t.
But these nightmares had a way of opening the deep, dark pits beneath me—even years later—and some could drag me down kicking and screaming.
Which was how I’d ended up here.
Santo nodded. “Well, good for you, sister. Not sure that’ll work on the Russians, though.”
I snagged yet another full champagne flute.
“I’ll just need to get a bigger gun.”
“Huh. That might work,” he agreed.
“What are the odds Saul agrees to Stefano’s terms before the Russians reach out to him?” I asked.
When my little brother’s gaze met mine, I didn’t need to hear whatever platitude he considered giving me.
I saw the truth in his eyes.
It didn’t matter what Stefano offered.
Didn’t matter how much cash he offered or how lucrative the connections he could provide might be.
Saul Moscatelli planned to make me go with the Russians.
And there wasn’t a damn thing anyone could do about it.