Chapter 10 #3
Emma’s eyes dart to me briefly as if she’s not sure about this change in topic. “Yes.”
“He was good at it too. Made the best carbonara I’ve ever had.
” Valentina’s voice cracks slightly. “He was supposed to open a restaurant. He had plans, dreams, a whole life ahead of him. And your father took it all away in one second because of some stupid territorial dispute that no one even remembers anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” Emma says, and she sounds like she means it. “I’m so sorry that happened. I’m sorry you lost your brother. I’m sorry my father is the reason why.”
“Sorry doesn’t bring him back,” Valentina snarls, but there’s less venom in it now and more voice wobbling from unshed tears.
“No,” Emma agrees, her own eyes bright. “It doesn’t. But it’s all I can offer. I didn’t kill Gabriel. I didn’t want this war between our families. I’m just…” She glances at me again and I flush. “I’m caught in the middle of something I never asked to be part of.”
Valentina studies Emma for a long moment, and I can see her reassessing, recalculating.
“You threw a fork at Leo’s head,” Valentina says abruptly.
Emma blinks at the subject change and even I have whiplash. “Come again?”
“My mother told me. She said you threw a fork at his head. Did it hit him?”
“He caught it,” Emma admits, and she sounds frustrated. “The bastard.”
“He would,” Valentina says, and I see the tiniest hint of a smile. “Leo’s always been stupidly fast. It’s obnoxious. When we were kids, I could never land a hit on him no matter how hard I tried.”
“It really is obnoxious,” Emma agrees carefully, like she’s not sure if this is a trap.
“What else have you thrown at him?” Valentina asks, and now there’s definite curiosity in her voice.
“Just the fork,” Emma remarks, bringing her legs up to her chest. “But I scratched his face and slapped him on the first day. I drew blood twice.”
Valentina’s smile widens despite herself. “Good for you. Leo deserves it.”
“Hey,” I protest from my position by the bookshelf. “I’m right here.”
“We know,” Emma and Valentina say in unison again, and this time they both look at me with matching expressions of mild annoyance.
I’m getting the distinct impression I’ve lost control of this situation entirely.
The conversation continues, and while Valentina doesn’t exactly warm up to Emma, the sharp hostility starts to ease into something more like grudging tolerance.
They bond over insulting me, which is both helpful and deeply concerning.
Emma holds her own against my sister’s interrogation, giving as good as she gets, and I can see Valentina’s respect growing even if she’d never admit it out loud.
They’re not friends. They’re probably never going to be friends. But there’s a mutual understanding developing—an acknowledgment that they’re both caught in circumstances neither of them asked for, both dealing with the consequences of what their family’s have done.
After about forty-five minutes of this, I decide I’ve had enough of being insulted by two women at once.
“Alright, Val,” I say, pushing off from the wall. “Time to go. You’ve terrorized Emma enough for one day.”
“I was just getting started,” Valentina protests, but she’s already standing up, straightening her blouse.
“And that’s exactly why you’re leaving.” I take her elbow and steer her toward the door. “Before you really get started and say something you’ll regret.”
Emma watches us go with an expression that’s hard to read—part relief, part something else I can’t identify.
I escort Valentina out of the library and down the hall toward the front entrance. She goes without too much resistance, though I can tell she has more she wants to say.
At the door, Valentina turns to face me, her expression serious.
“So, Emma is different,” my sister says quietly.
That’s a nice way of saying it. “I know.”
“She stood up to me,” my sister muses, almost looking thoughtful. “Most people don’t stand up to me.”
“Emma’s not most people.” The words come out more defensive than I intend.
Valentina’s eyes narrow slightly. “Leo. You have a crush on her.”
The world seems to stop spinning. “What?” I burst out, feeling my heart skip a beat. What the fuck is my sister talking about? “No. That’s—that’s ridiculous. She’s Connor Brennan’s daughter. I kidnapped her for revenge. I don’t have a—”
“You one hundred percent do,” Valentina interrupts, looking at me like I’m an idiot. “You’re blushing right now. You’re stammering. And you just defended her to me without even thinking about it.”
“I’m not blushing,” I snap, even though I can feel heat in my face. “And I’m not stammering. I’m just—you’re wrong. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m your sister.” Valentina crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. “I know when you’re lying, and you’re lying right now. You have a crush on Emma Brennan.”
“I don’t,” I insist harshly. “This is about making Connor pay for what he did to Gabriel. That’s it. That’s all this is.”
“Is it?” Valentina’s not backing down. “Because it looks like you’ve forgotten all about revenge and started thinking about something else entirely.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I repeat, feeling cornered and hating it. “Emma is leverage. She’s a means to an end. I don’t have feelings for her. I don’t.”
Even as I say it, I know it sounds hollow and unconvincing, like I’m trying to convince myself as much as Valentina.
My sister just looks at me with this expression that’s part pity, part amusement, and part concern.
“Keep telling yourself that, Leo,” she says softly. “Maybe eventually you’ll believe it.”
My hands clench into fists at my sides. “I don’t—”
“You do,” Valentina interrupts, looking suddenly sad. “And that’s going to make this whole situation so much worse than it already is.”
She reaches up and touches my cheek, the gesture surprisingly gentle after the confrontation I just witnessed. “I love you, bro. But you’re heading for disaster and I don’t know how to stop you.”
“There’s no disaster to head for,” I insist, but it sounds weak even to my own ears. “I have everything under control.”
Valentina’s laugh is short and humorless. “No.” She shakes her head. “You really don’t. But I guess you’ll figure that out eventually.”
She gets in her car, and before driving away she rolls down the window and calls out, “By the way? Gabriel would have liked her. He would have liked that she fights back.” She gives me a knowing look from over her sunglasses. “Think about what that means.”
Then she’s gone, leaving me standing in the driveway with her words echoing in my head.
You have a crush on Emma Brennan.
I don’t. This is about revenge and honoring Gabriel’s memory.
It’s not about the way Emma’s eyes light up when she’s winning an argument. It’s not about how her laugh makes me want to do it over and over again. It’s not about the way I caught her earlier and didn’t want to let go.
It’s not about any of that.
Except it is. And I know it is. And Valentina knows it too, which means soon everyone is going to know it, then I’m going to have to admit what I’ve been denying for weeks.
That somewhere between kidnapping Emma Brennan and now, I stopped seeing her as Connor’s daughter and started seeing her as Emma.
I have no idea what the fuck I’m supposed to do about that.