18. Matti
Matti
E leanor picks up on the first ring. “Yes, sir?”
“Siena Bellamorte? Let me look, sir,” she says. I can hear a general murmur of people talking around her. “It’s very busy here this morning. Give me a moment.”
“She’s the one wearing…” I scan the crowd on my screen, searching for her, and my heart stops when I see her. She’s not alone. “Fuck, she’s talking to Valentina.”
“I’ll take care of it, sir,” Eleanor assures me and hangs up.
God DAMN it.
Valentina is useful on occasion in very controlled settings, but unless she’s on a short leash, that woman fucks up everything she touches. Case in point, last night.
I zoom in on the camera as much as I can and turn up the sound. It’s hard to hear with all the background noise, but the look on Siena’s face speaks volumes. So does Valentina’s .
“Aww, the trash figured out where he actually lives,” Valentina snarls, her voice vicious through my phone speaker. “I hadn’t pegged you for a stalker, but twice in 24 hours is impressive. Especially since you looked like you died twice in your little glitter bomb dress last night.”
Jealousy drips from every syllable, her eyes firing daggers at Siena. I switch angles, focusing on Siena. Her face remains impassive.
Valentina continues. “You should know, though, you’ve come a long way for nothing. Matti is all taken care of.”
Fucking lying cunt. My pulse stutters as I watch for any hint of pain on Siena’s face, but it almost stops completely when she doesn’t seem to care. She’s not walking away, though. I can’t read her the way I usually can. Furrowing my brow, I zoom out, trying to figure out what I’m looking at.
Valentina pulls the shoulder of her dress down for some reason, revealing her bare shoulder, and winks at Siena. I don’t know what that means, but Siena seems to because a glimmer of irritation passes over her face, gone in an instant.
God, she’s so fucking beautiful. Her skin is pale, and she’s not wearing any makeup, which is my favorite way to see her. She looks tired but determined, and the way she stands tall despite being an easy eight inches shorter than Valentina in her heels, makes me want to grab her and kiss her.
“I was actually hoping to find you, Valentina.”
The fuck?
“Really. Why is that?” Valentina asks, her face twisting into a look of disgust. “Did you want some fashion advice? You do need it, but sorry, I can’t help you. You’re just too far gone.”
“I need your help with an IT project. If you can.” Siena looks nervous as Valentina’s look of irritation turns to rage, but she presses on. “From what I understand, that’s your specialty.”
Oh, fuck no. This can’t happen. Exposing Siena to Valentina for a finite period of time on the plane was all I’m willing to do. These two starting off on a project on their own? Unacceptable. I start to pace, running my hand across my beard, still damp from the shower.
Where the fuck is Eleanor?
Valentina leans in close to Siena and hisses, “I don’t take orders from you, bitch.”
Good. Good, good. I can always count on Valentina to be a contrary cunt when asked for a favor. Maybe she is good for something.
Valentina pauses, then smirks at Siena. “Though when your man gives me orders, I stay on my knees as long as he wants.”
I roll my eyes and huff out a heavy sigh. Nope, she’s absolutely useless.
Eleanor walks up to them, interrupting their conversation by clearing her throat. “Excuse me, ladies. I’m Eleanor, Mr. Dragovari’s personal assistant. Could you please join me for a moment?” She offers Siena a soft smile.
“Fuck off, Eleanor,” sneers Valentina. “Like I told this bitch, I don’t take orders from anyone, and that includes you.”
Valentina doesn’t seem to realize that despite the fact that Eleanor is in her 60s, she will shank a bitch without thinking twice, but Eleanor takes it in stride.
“Apologies, Ms. Valentina. I wasn’t addressing you.” Eleanor smiles politely, but her eyes gleam wickedly, and she turns to Siena. “Mr. Dragovari has invited you to join him in his penthouse.”
God DAMN it. I actually did not make that invitation. Are these women conspiring to fucking destroy my sanity ?
Eleanor doesn’t like Valentina, so this must be her way of throwing her support behind Siena. Maybe she liked what she saw in all the research I asked her to do for me on Siena when we first met. I know I did.
“No. Thank you, though,” Siena says, guarded. “I have some errands to run.”
A fresh wave of frustration rolls through me. She’s here but refuses to see me? Had she planned to, only to change her mind after running into Valentina?
I glower at Valentina’s image on the screen. Hate this bitch. And Siena—why can’t she just follow instructions for once?
Eleanor doesn’t back down. “Those can wait, I’m sure. And if not, I can have someone handle them for you. I must insist.” She rests a hand on Siena’s forearm, giving her a meaningful look, the same one she uses on me when she wants something.
Good luck, Siena.
Valentina is practically shaking with jealousy and rage. She sweeps a sharp gaze over Siena, looking her up and down. “What the fuck does he want with this bitch? She’s got a fucking stain on her sweater, for Christ’s sake. She’s a walking disaster.”
Siena tilts her head at Valentina and lifts her chin. “And yet he wants me even though he just spent the night with you. What does that tell you about yourself?”
Oh shit! I laugh as Valentina’s face burns almost as red as her lipstick. She turns on her heel and stalks to a nearby couch and throws herself down on it dramatically.
Eleanor smothers a laugh, and Siena gives her a conspiratorial wink. That’s my girl.
I’m enjoying the moment so much, only distracted by why Valentina isn’t leaving, that it doesn’t register that Eleanor is walking Siena over to my private elevator.
The one that shoots straight to the front door of my penthouse in about twenty seconds.
Until I hear the elevator ding.
Fuck! I look around, trying to see what Siena will see when she walks into my penthouse for the first time.
The late night dinner that Eleanor sent up is pushed over to the side where it was largely forgotten after Vin picked through and took what he wanted.
The laptop open to the video of the man wearing the watch that Siena found in Emily’s things.
Valentina’s red bra and panties thrown over the plant.
Me in a towel, still wet from the shower.
This is not good.
Eleanor’s knock echoes through the room as I break into action. There’s only so much I can do in five seconds, but I slam the laptop shut, then grab Valentina’s underwear and turn around in a circle, trying to decide where to stuff it.
Eleanor knocks again, and I shove the lacy pieces into the little garbage can next to the desk on the other side of the table. I make a move to manage the dishes, but stop when Eleanor knocks a third time, calling out my name.
I take the few quick steps to the door, then stop and shake out my arms to steady myself, taking a deep breath and blowing it out before I open the door.