Chapter 14 #2
“Your mother wouldn’t want Michael to be a Mancuso,” Caroline adds.
I sit there, simmering, because her words set off something inside me, something I’ve worked hard to control. Something so terrible, I need to take a deep breath to say as I glare at Caroline.
“He killed her,” I say. “Surely, you didn’t forget that.”
“Valentina, be very careful who you accuse. This is what divided us last time. Do you really want to go through that again?”
Her tone shifts, like she’s warning me. A coldness sends a shiver down my spine. But I won’t give in, not this time. Luca has given me back much of the confidence and courage I’d lost over the years.
“The truth doesn’t change, Caroline. If you’re not ready to accept it—”
“Papa lost your mother, too! He had nothing to do with her death.”
“She didn’t want to have more children, and he hated her for it. He was absolutely furious with her. You seem to have conveniently forgotten that part.”
When I see Caroline squirming in her seat and looking for ways to excuse my stepfather, so much anger bubbles to the surface that it’s hard for me to focus.
There is nothing that will excuse him, no matter what she tells me, because I remember every conversation I had with him on the subject.
I know when Mauro is lying. And he lied a lot about my mother.
“Just because he was angry doesn’t mean he had anything to do with her death, dammit!” Caroline snaps. “It was a car accident. A tragic, heartbreaking accident.”
“The brakes were cut—”
“Fucking hell, Valentina, why do you have to dredge up the past like this?”
“Because she was my mother,” I say and shake my head. “How are we going to move on from this conflict if we don’t address all of it? Your father is pissed off because the universe decided to punish him by denying him an heir. What happened to your mother, what you went through, and then—”
“Don’t bring me into this!” Caroline says and points an angry finger at me.
Now, other customers in the café are openly staring at us. Our voices must have gotten too loud.
“Don’t you fucking bring my tragedy into this. None of it was my fault.”
“I never implied that it was. You didn’t deserve what happened to you, Caroline.”
“No, I didn’t. But it happened, just like your mother’s accident.”
“Keep telling yourself that, just don’t expect me to drink that particular Kool-Aid, because I never will.
Your father did a lot of bad things in his life, including to my mother, and I will never forgive him for that.
I could never prove it either, but that doesn’t mean I will ever get over what he did. ”
Caroline shakes her head, crossing her arms. “Yeah, you made that perfectly clear when you rejected his offer to adopt you. If you’d only said yes, he would be a lot happier now. Symbolically, there would’ve been another Mancuso to bequeath everything to.”
“Come on, it worked out in your favor in the end,” I reply. “You’re the sole heir.”
“I can’t have children of my own, Valentina. I’m fucking useless.”
This is her breaking point, but I’m not the one who pushed her. She pushed herself into it as soon as she decided to repeat the same lies her father tried to shove down my throat all those years ago. The Mancusos are in a mess of their own making.
I seem to have found my limit as far as these negotiations go.
“Why don’t we pick this up another time?” I suggest and get up.
Caroline’s brows furrow. “Wait, what?”
“Well, you’ve got terms and conditions for a peace agreement. I’d like to draft some terms and conditions of my own.”
“Valentina, you’re only making this harder for all of us. Sit down. Let’s get over all of these hurdles and reach some kind of compromise.”
“I’m not making a deal without my husband present. I was just hoping you would at least stop being your father’s puppet, that you’d think for yourself for once. Let’s meet again when you’re ready to do that.”
I’m too angry to say any more to her. The memory of my mother haunts me to this day. The injustices she suffered. The Petruccis got my father killed. Then Mauro Mancuso married her in the hopes of siring an heir. She died because she refused. No matter what anyone says, I know it’s the truth.
And I cannot let it slide.
“Valentina, please!” Caroline calls out.
But I’m already headed for the door. As soon as my feet reach the pavement and the warm morning air fills my lungs, I take a deep breath and look around. Maybe it wasn’t the best way to end the conversation, but it felt good to stand up for myself, to speak my truth with unshakeable conviction.
I have Luca to thank for that. And I can’t wait to see him.
Carefully, I make my way down the street and turn left into the side alley where Eddie said he parked the car.
I see it, not far from one of the café’s dumpsters.
The engine is idle, yet I don’t see anyone behind the wheel.
A knot swells in the pit of my stomach, and I take my phone out.
Eddie doesn’t answer. I look over my shoulder, but there’s no one around.
Slowly, I walk closer to the car. The engine’s running, and the car purrs softly. Then I see the blood spreading across the dashboard and Eddie slouched on his side with a bullet hole in his temple.
I jump back, the scream getting caught in my throat.
I hear boots scraping across the wet pavement. Then the men come out from behind the dumpster, and my heart bursts with adrenaline as I back away. I don’t know them. I don’t recognize them.
“Get over here!” one of them barks.
My body instantly recognizes danger. My mind registers all the details I might need to tell Luca later.
They’re here for me, that much is clear from the looks on their faces—murderous eyes, lips twisted with malicious intent.
Eddie was collateral damage. He was in their way, and now they’re coming after me.
I am the prey, the one being hunted.
Before they can reach me, however, I spin on my heels, the smell of blood and gunfire still with me, and I start running for my life.
I should scream.
“Don’t let her get away!” another shouts.
I hear them running after me, determined to catch me.
But I can see the thoroughfare ahead. I’m almost there. I should scream. I keep telling myself I should scream, but my voice is stuck in my throat, and all I can do is run as I can.
I feel a hand swipe at my back, almost reaching me, but not quite.
“Fuck!” he snaps and reaches again.
But to his dismay, I lose myself on the crowded sidewalk. I pause for a second, deciding whether I should go left or right, but it doesn’t matter, as long as I can far away from them.
The adrenaline pumps faster, and I turn left, heading north. I try to think where Luca could find me. He’d found me before, after all.
Glancing back through the crowd, I see the men coming closer, still desperate to catch me.
Then tires squeal loudly to my left. A black Lexus comes to a skidding halt, causing the other cars behind him to slam on their brakes and honk and hurl all sorts of ungodly curses at him. The passenger door swings open.
“Get in!” Luca shouts.
I don’t even hesitate. I jump right in and barely manage to shut the door before he locks it from the central console. Then he floors it and we practically fly out of there.
I’m panting and hyperventilating, beads of sweat bursting across my temple and forehead, as the terror begins to subside.
“Oh God, what the hell was that?” I manage, my voice broken as tears prick my eyes. I can’t get the image of Eddie out of my head. “They killed Eddie.”
“I figured as much when he didn’t pick up his phone. I was on my way over,” Luca mutters.
His grip on the wheel is so tight, so angry, his knuckles have turned white. A muscle twitches in his jaw, furiously repeating a rhythm that my heart seems to be synced with. He keeps checking the rearview mirror, but the deeper we go into the city, the easier it feels for me to breathe.
“I hope Caroline is okay,” I mumble.
“They were there for you, Valentina, not your sister.”
That much I know. And it terrifies me. They got so close again.
Too close. And we still don’t know what their angle is, or if they’re even my stepfather’s henchmen.
I thought we were making some headway in figuring this out, yet I feel like we’re being steered farther away from the center of the plot.
“I don’t understand any of it,” I say to Luca.
“I do. It was foolish of me to think I could let you go out on your own, even with an army of bodyguards behind you. They’re determined to get to you, and until I understand why, I don’t think I can let you go out without me again.”
“So, what, I get locked up?” I ask, startled by his declaration.
“Not locked up.”
“Not anything,” I reply, an anger of my own taking over in lieu of the subsiding adrenaline. “I’m not your prisoner; I’m your wife.”
The way he looks at me and says nothing speaks volumes.
It tells me the conversation is far from over, and I might not like the outcome once we get to it.
But the truth is, I don’t like any of the potential outcomes coming to mind at this point.
No matter how I spin this, I could get hurt one way or another.