Salvatore #3
"Don't mistake partnership for taming, bella mia. I'm still a monster. I'll still destroy anyone who threatens you. I'll still rule this city with an iron fist." I press a kiss to her lips. "I'm just doing it with you by my side now. Which makes me infinitely more dangerous."
Not because she's softened me or changed who I am.
But because she's given me something I never thought I'd have, someone who sees every dark corner of my soul and chooses to stay anyway... But everyone has their limits.
Valentina is quiet for a long moment. Then she asks the question I've been dreading.
“Salvatore? Do you have my father?"
I could lie. I could buy myself more time, figure out a strategy, and play the game the way I've been playing it my entire life.
But I'm so fucking tired of games.
"Yes."
Her breath catches. "What do you plan to do with him?"
"Get some sleep, Valentina. We'll talk about this tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Her voice rises. "He could be dead tomorrow. Wait, is he…. Is he dead, Salvatore? Did you kill my father?”
“I said leave it alone until tomorrow, Valentina.”
“No! We need to talk about this now. Where is my father? Is he safe?”
"It's complicated."
"Then uncomplicate it for me." She steps in front of me, forcing me to meet her eyes. "Tell me what you're going to do."
I see the fear there, but also something fiercer. She's not backing down. She never backs down.
"Look," she says, her voice steadying. "Can I make you a deal? If you let my father go, I will stay. I won't question anything that you do. I will be a good wife. I will do everything you ask. But you have to let him leave."
My chest aches. "I'm sorry. I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because your father is a traitor."
The word hangs between us, heavy and damning.
"Was your father a good man?" She asks quietly.
"He was… Giovanni Vitale.” I take a step closer. “He was… a mafia Don. A King. He was good at what he was. To me… he was magnificent. Do you? He was probably a monster. So, good is subjective, wouldn’t you say?”
“No. There’s good, there’s bad, and then there’s evil.”
“Which of these do you think your father is?” I ask her.
“Which was yours?” She retorts. “Which one… Salvatore, are you?”
I don’t answer her because the truth is, I don’t know which one I am.
She takes both of my hands, standing so close she has to look up to meet my gaze.
"Salvatore, you say you love me. How can you love me if you take away such a major part of who I am?" Her voice breaks. "Please. Promise me you won't hurt my dad."
The words tear at something deep inside me. I want to give her what she's asking for. I want to be the man she needs me to be.
But I can't make promises I might not be able to keep.
"I'm sorry," my voice softens. "I can't make that promise."
“You can’t, or you won’t? You can’t just keep taking people’s lives, Salvatore, that’s not something you get to decide. You are not God.”
“But I am King. Your King, Valentina, and as my queen,” I start but she interrupts.
"No, not as your queen! If you don't let my father go, I will not marry you!"
"You don't have a choice,” I say my voice much too loud and with too much authority for Valentina.
I lower my voice and close the space that she has made between us.
I softly lift her chine to meet my gaze once again, “You will be my wife, Valentina.
Even if I have to carry you to that fucking altar. "
“Well, that’s what you’re going to have to do!”
She closes her eyes, and tears roll down her face. "I thought we could have something real. That maybe you were more than a monster."
The word hits like a blade between my ribs.
"You thought wrong."
She reaches up and shoves my hand from her chin and quickly starts walking away without another word.
“Where are you going?” I ask softer but she ignores me.
“Valentina?” I call after her, but she slams the door louder than I’d ever heard my door slam before, and then she’s gone. I walk to the door and open it, trying to figure out what the fuck to do, and I hear then the distant slam of her bedroom door.
I want is to go into her bedroom, apologize, and make love to her until she begs me to stop, but then my father’s words linger on my mind once again, never fuck with a woman when she’s pissed off.
In those exact words, when I was still a kid.
My mother threw a piece of bread at him because she hated it when he talked to us like wise guys, but he just laughed and ate the bread, which had landed on the sofa in front of him.
The way dad used to be with mom, the way he only changed his attitude for her, and only listened to her. The way he use to be happy when she clowned him. I feel all of these things with Valentina. I’ve dated so many fucking women and never felt anything close to what I feel for her.
But now I’m afraid I may have just destroyed the only good thing in my life.
I pull out my phone and find her name… My Valentina
Before sending a short text: I’m sorry.
She doesn’t respond right away. I keep checking but there’s noting. No dots, no message, nothing.
Finally, my phone vibrates, and I look down to see her name across the screen.
Valentina: I hate you!