Chapter 23 #4
“I came home, determined to call you, to get you to come back here so we could talk.” He pauses and glances down at his bloodied and bruised knuckles.
Raymond’s face must’ve been on the receiving end of that, and the thought unfurls another wave of crippling nausea in the back of my throat.
“Only to learn that you’d taken my wife out of the house without my permission. ”
“We had security,” Victor says. “Take a fucking minute, Luca, and listen to what I have to say.”
A minute passes in deafening silence. The tension feels heavy on my shoulders, making me want to crumble. But I keep my chin up, determined not to show any fear, regardless of the outcome. This is the man I love, the person I’ve already fallen for, even this version of him… It’s still Luca.
If I fear him, I break my own heart.
“Are you the man who betrayed me, Victor?” Luca asks.
“No, I think Stefano is.”
The words roll off Victor’s tongue with a certain degree of kindness, but it’s not enough to soften the blow. It still hits Luca in the chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. For a hot second, his rage is replaced with shock—a blank stare lingering between us as the words begin to sink in.
“Do you think I’m an idiot?” Luca snaps.
“No, I’m telling you that I had my suspicions before, and now we have a certain degree of certainty,” Victor replies.
I take a step forward, determined to get everything out in the open before Luca loses his grip again. Victor is one of the few truly loyal people by his side. He cannot lose him, and neither can I.
“Luca, we went to the medical examiner’s office. We talked to the police detective who handled Stefano’s case, too,” I say. “There’s enough for the authorities to reassess the nightclub bombing and to declare Stefano a missing person, not deceased.”
“How in the fuck is that possible?”
“Because the chief medical examiner went over his colleague’s findings at our request and concluded that the body they initially identified as Stefano wasn’t Stefano at all,” Victor explains.
Luca shakes his head, eager to reject the possibility.
“No. That’s crazy. It’s preposterous. It doesn’t make any sense.
” He pauses and turns to look at me, fury flashing in his eyes.
“Is this your attempt to get out of our marriage, Valentina? Are you and Victor trying to cook something up to get rid of me, too?”
“Oh, my God,” I whisper, realizing how far his suspicions have unraveled.
In his defense, Occam’s Razor would apply. Victor is most likely the traitor, and Stefano is very much dead. But Victor and I saw the files. We heard an expert in his field confirm the crazy theory.
“That’s not what any of this is about,” I say. “Luca, please, listen to us. Stefano is likely still alive.”
“Or the effort to undermine me and destroy what’s left of my family has finally taken a sinister turn.”
Victor groans with frustration. “Then fucking kill me, Luca. Right now.”
A different kind of silence falls over the room.
The kind of silence that makes Luca waver, rethink his line of reasoning, and doubt his own judgment.
That cannot be easy for him, a man who was raised to always consider the worst-case scenario.
This is the type of curveball that would drive a regular man insane.
It pains me deeply to watch him struggle with his own doubts, his fear of losing everything he’s worked so hard to build.
My feelings for him are clouding my own judgment, though.
He just accused me of conspiring against him.
I’m sure it was only his anger speaking, but still, the hurt of his words lingers.
“Do it,” Victor says.
For a moment, I worry Luca will take out his gun.
“You have no idea what you’re asking of me,” my husband scoffs.
“Why? You said it yourself, right? Better that I’m the traitor than you to consider the possibility that your brother is still alive, that this war with the Mancusos was partly fueled by a complex farce,” Victor replies.
“I told you, and I’ve got Valentina here as a witness.
We have every reason to believe Stefano didn’t die that night. ”
“It’s insane,” Luca sighs, shaking his head. “I can’t believe it.”
“Then come talk to me when you’re ready to consider it,” I reply, shaking with a fury of my own, my blood boiling with a sense of injustice. “Until then, I don’t even want to see you.”
“Valentina—”
“No, screw you, Luca!” I snap. “Victor and I are the only ones who can see the truth, as disturbing as it may be. If you want to go all hot and heavy and start hurting the people around you, then you go ahead and do that. But I refuse to be a part of it.”
“Come back here,” he orders.
But I’m already out the door, trembling with rage and struggling not to puke my guts out all over the marble floor.
By some miracle, I make it upstairs to Michael’s room and relieve Susie.
Alone with my son, I lock the door and let Michael sleep for a little while longer while I bury my face in one of the goose down pillows, muffling my own cries.
If I didn’t love Luca, I wouldn’t feel this way.
All I can do is pray that Victor manages to cool him down, to make him see the truth, regardless of how insane it may sound.