Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
EMILIANO
I pace my room while Valentina sleeps off whatever she has.
“I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me earlier,” I tell Romiro.
He shrugs. “I didn’t think it was that important to you. You barely know her. I mean, yes, you’ve had a few moments together and all, but we truly didn’t think it was that serious.”
I run my hand through my hair, pulling at the root, trying to figure out why it bothers me that she was sick for three days before I knew about it. And why the fuck I felt the need to fly back the New Hampshire the same day to come see for myself.
“I have to go, but make sure she has plenty of fluids. She’s been vomiting a lot and needs to stay hydrated,” Alessia says as she walks by to head to the door of my personal living room. I nod grimly.
“I’ll take you home,” Romiro offers. Alessia gives him a shy smile. My eyes narrow as I watch them leave the room, but I brush off the suspicious feeling that something might be going on between my cousin and best friend. Ma closes the bedroom door behind her, leaving Mara in the room with Valentina.
“She feels guilty for not saying something earlier. She blames herself that Valentina is this sick.” Ma sighs as she plops down on one of the armchairs. I shake my head.
“She shouldn’t be feeling guilty at all. It’s not her fault.” I don’t say what everyone is thinking, but the insinuation hangs in the air.
“No, Emiliano, it isn't your fault either. At least not her becoming this sick. You didn’t want her to get sick, but you do want to use her as leverage against her family, which isn’t something I like or agree with.”
“Ma, I don’t know what you want me to do. The only way for us to get our revenge is by dangling Moretti’s daughter in front of him,” I tell her. Ma’s shoulders drop, and exhaustion bleeds into her face. She leans back into the armchair and carefully watches me.
“You know, when I married your Dad, I was scared. I thought he was going to be cruel and try to break me.” She shrugs one shoulder before continuing. “At least that’s what everyone tried to tell me, and the rumors certainly didn’t help. Our families had been enemies up to the peace agreement and the wedding. He didn’t speak much during our engagement, but after the wedding, when I slowly got to know him, I liked what I learned. He was kind in his own way, and he never thought of me as any less when the…incident happened.”
I grind my teeth as I try to calm the wave of rage that has taken over at the mention of the past.
“Let’s not, Ma. The past is the past, and talking about Dad isn’t helping.” My voice is strained and my entire body tenses as I run my thumb over the small scar on the side of my neck.
“Why not? You’re Capo, but lately all you seem to be doing is running from the problems instead of trying to solve them.”
The sound of the bedroom door falling shut reaches us, and Mara steps closer.
“Watch your tone, Mara. I will not tolerate disrespect,” I warn, and she glowers at me before sighing and heading toward the doors to leave.
“Where are you going?” Ma asks her.
“To get Valentina some hot soup, since someone refuses to stop throwing his weight around.” She gives me a pointed look, at which I laugh and shake my head.
“I’ll come help you.” Ma quickly rushes after Mara, and the room settles into silence after the door closes with a click.
I look at my bedroom door, debating whether to go in there. I decide against it, grab a glass of water, and sit on the couch facing the fireplace. The TV is on, but it’s muted. My brow furrows as I read the headline. “Freda’s Jewelry, one of the most well-known Jewelry stores in the country, has been robbed in their New York city location in the jewelry district. The company is yet to make a statement.”
My glass shatters as it hits the wall next to the TV. For fuck’s sake, I can’t leave for a couple of days without things going to absolute shit. Just as I reach for my phone to call Romiro, it rings.
“I want to know who the fuck attacked one of our stores,” I demand, leaning back.
“It was the fucking Outfit. The fucking little shits thought they could attack without being caught,” he tells me with a sigh. My eyebrows reach my hairline as my jaw clenches.
“What the fuck do you mean by that? Are you saying that they stepped foot in my territory?”
“Yes, some soldiers were in the area and were able to get them.” Fuck yes.
“Is the little bastard with them?” I really fucking hope so, so I can send the little Moretti headache back to her family and be rid of her. To my disappointment, Romiro answers with exactly what I don’t want to hear.
“No.”
“I want you to take care of them, and take both Lucio and Matteo with you. It’s about time they got their hands back in the game.”
“Are you not coming as well?” he asks, but I don’t answer, not wanting to look too deep into why I’m not going.
“I have things to take care of. You make sure that everything goes smoothly.”
“Yes, I’ll also keep you updated.”
I end the call and place my phone back on the coffee table. I still need to contact the Morettis to ask for what we want for the return of their daughter. A thud comes from my room, instantly concerning me. I get up and rush to the door to check if Valentina is okay.
When I slightly crack the door open, I find Valentina gripping one of the bedside tables. I rush toward her and grab her by her upper arm, and she glares when she looks up at me.
“Why are you getting up? You need to be resting.”
She tries to swat my arm away, but stops when I don’t budge.
“Let me go. I want to go back to the other room,” she demands. I narrow my eyes as I observe her, setting her back on the bed.
“Why are you being stubborn?”
“Why are you being a busybody? It’s annoying.”
I ignore her and place my palm on her forehead to check her temperature. It seems to have gone down since last night. She pushes my arm away with an eye roll, and I let her.
“Why am I in your room?” she asks. I turn around and walk to some of my drawers.
“Because the room you were staying in isn’t suitable anymore, and I don’t trust you to place you anywhere near my family, so you’re stuck here,” I say as I pull out a pair of green pajamas from when I was younger, hoping that they’ll fit her, even though they still look a couple of sizes too big.
“Where the hell have you been sleeping, then?”
When I turn to look at her with the pjs in my hand, I see that she’s still glaring at me. I shake my head and step toward her.
“Don’t get all worked up over nothing. I slept out there on one of the couches.” That’s a lie’ I barely slept, because she was so sick that she was burning up most of the night, just like the other past five days I have been here. But she doesn’t need to know that. I place the clothes next to her on the bed.
She crosses her arms and tilts her chin up before asking with narrowed eyes, “How do I know that you’re not lying?”
Her question amuses me more than it should, and I feel my lips lifting into a smug smile. “Maybe I am lying, and I slept right next to you in my bed ,” I tease. She wrinkles her nose in a way that makes her look younger than she is. Her face is now less pale with some color bleeding back into her cheeks.
“I’m just fucking with you. The shower is through that door if you want to use it. I’ll be out there, so if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask me.”
With that, I walk out the door and into my living room and plop back onto the couch. I don’t do anything but listen to any sound that indicates that she has decided to use the shower. When I hear a door slamming from inside my bedroom, I turn up the volume of the TV and sit back with my hands behind my head.
After thirty minutes, both Mara and Ma walk into my living room with two trays. One full of fruits and light snacks and the other has a soup bowl with two cups of smoothies. They place both trays on the coffee table in front of me. I give them a grin as I sit up.
“Ma and my precious sister prepared appetizing snacks for me, how sweet?” They don’t look impressed by my fake enthusiasm, and Ma slaps my hand away when I reach for some blueberries.
“Stop it, Emiliano,” she reprimands, and when she spots the shattered glass on the floor, she raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.
I open my mouth to ask her about when she wants to go back to New York, but my bedroom door opening snags our attention. Valentina walks out with her hair wet from the shower. The clothes are big on her, making her look comical. But seeing her in my clothes makes me want to own her body and soul. It’s a jarring feeling to ignore. Ma and Mara both shoot me a look like they can read my mind before heading to her. I can tell they’re fussing over her, but I can’t make out anything.
They keep throwing glances my way before Ma turns on her heel and faces me. “Emiliano, go to your office or somewhere else.”
“Fuck no. This is my room.”
“Oh my God, just get out. You’re being annoying,” Mara whines. With a huff, I give her the finger and get up, grabbing my phone off the table and slipping it into my black jogger pants.
“Try anything, Moretti, and I will not hesitate to skin you alive,” I warn before leaving out the door. Instead of going to my office, I head to the garden, stopping on my way to grab my gardening tools. The weather is surprisingly warm for October as I head out to the backyard.
The wisteria plants cling to the side of the glass door and around the glass windows, snaking up to the second floor of the greenhouse. Unlocking the door, I’m met with the earthy smell of the plants.
The humidity sticks to my skin and my shoes are muffled as I step on the grass from the mosaic pavement. I place the gardening tools on the stone bench next to the fountain, turning the fountain on before surveying the greenhouse, making out the distinct smell of rosemary.
I check on the rosemary shrubs before moving to the thyme and oregano on the right of the fountain, then head up the spiral stairs.
I bend my head as I pass some of the low-hanging lavender flowers. I tend to the wild olive trees, making sure that there aren’t any moths, ants or bacteria eating at the plant. After watering them, I begrudgingly move to the cape bushes, violets, and the bougainvilleas planted on the other side of the greenhouse, opposite of the trees. I water them, ripping out any dry leaves and making sure that I don’t overwater any of the flowers.
By the time I’m done, I sweat drips down my forehead and off my brow. My joggers are dirty at the knees and some dirt has managed to get on my shirt. The sound of footsteps up the metal spiral staircase alert me to the presence of someone else. I don’t turn around, instead taking off one of my gardening gloves to check on the flower petals of the cape bushes.
“You barely go in here after Dad died,” Matteo comments. I grit my teeth.
“I know, Matteo, I don’t need you to remind me.” I get up, turning to face him. “Why aren’t you with Lucio and Romiro?” I ask as I take off my other glove, holding both in my hand as we head to the stairs.
“I didn’t want to go. I needed to get some codes done before going down to New York.”
I let him go ahead of me.
“Right, well, you need to go down there by this evening, or tomorrow, at the latest.”
He doesn’t reply but nods, walking past the fountain and pausing near the door. Crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes are emotionless as usual. I pick up my phone and the gardening tools I had left and move closer to the house.
“I’ve set up the codes and ran the tests. They’ll surpass any security the Russians might have.” He gives me a look before continuing. “I’m going to see Mara and Ma before heading to New York.”
“Don’t drag it out, Matteo. Make sure to call me when you get to New York.”
He nods and we break off at the stairs. I head to the guest wing to take a shower and change into another set of clean clothes.
The room is smaller than mine and has cream walls and a black carpet. With the curtains drawn, the room is shrouded in shadows. I flick the light on and head into the bathroom, quickly washing my hair and moving on to lathering my body until every inch is covered. After rinsing, I dry myself with a towel, realizing I forgot to grab some new clothes. I wrap another towel around my midsection and shoot Victor a text to grab me a change of clothes from my room.
I comb through my hair as I dry it, running my fingers through it every couple of minutes to check if it’s dry enough. As I’m shaving my stubble, I see the bathroom door open and Ginevra slips in, wearing a red robe.
I ignore her and continue to shave my face, washing the blade before moving to the other side. Ginevra and I make eye contact through the mirror. She winks at me, and I narrow my eyes at her.
She takes it as a sign to glide her hands down the robe and untie the knot holding it closed. When the robe opens wide enough, I can see that she isn’t wearing anything underneath. Her pink nipples harden as she toys with them, still watching me.
“You better not have been walking around my house naked under that while my family is here,” I warn. She struts to me and wraps a hand around my bicep.
“Jealous?” she asks. I bark out a laugh at the absurdity and accidentally cut my cheek in the process. A small bead of blood forms before slowly dripping down my face till it hits my chin and drops into the sink. Ginevra gasps before trying to turn me around. I shrug her off and continue to shave.
“Go away, Ginevra. I’m not going to fuck you.”
She bats her lashes, pouting at me through the mirror.
“Maybe I just want to spend some quality time with the best boss ever.”
I break eye contact and focus on my jaw. After wiping the blade, I wash my face and pat it dry.
“I will boil you alive, fry your skin, and feed you to my dogs if you don’t get the fuck out,” I threaten. She scurries off, but not before quickly grabbing her robe off the ground. I grip the sink, dropping my head between my shoulders.
Today is the day I need to call Moretti to demand what we want. I’m done playing the long game. I thought making him feel like he was being forced into a corner, waiting for us to make up our minds, would have been a sweet revenge. But all it has been is torture, torture that whatever I have with Valentina will eventually come to an end. Before it even truly begins.
I need Valentina out before she fucks with my head any longer. I run my tongue across my bottom lip, remembering how she was so fucking responsive. I splash my face with cold water and walk out of the bathroom to an empty room. I spot some clothes on the floor and guess that they are what Ginevra was wearing before coming into the bathroom.
Instead of going back to my room, where I know the little Moretti vixen is, I head to my office and call Costa.
“If you’re going to ask about any updates of our murderer, then don’t. There aren’t any. Also, the Vasilievs want to set up a meeting when they’re back from Moscow.” He jumps right in after picking up the phone. I lean back into my office chair and release a sigh of annoyance. ??
“Tell Romanov Vasiliev that I’m not talking to his hag of a father. He can wait until he drops dead, and then we’ll talk,” I tell him.
“You really hate that man.” Costa chuckles.
“Let’s just say that if he’d tripped and landed on a knife, I wouldn’t be sad about it.” I pick up my pen, clicking it a couple of times before placing it back on my desk. “How are you and your little wife?” I ask him.
Costa clips, “Fine.” Costa and his wife, Chiara, have been married for just over two years. The union was arranged by their parents to finally put their businesses together. Both families have been trying to put the other out of business for at least three decades. Guess even if you marry the enemy and live together, you’ll still hate each other. ??
Ending the call, I flip open my laptop and browse through our bets on our latest fight. Aurelio’s last fight was another to the death. The madman of the Famiglia has been fighting in our clubs for a while. My gut tells me that it’s not because he can’t fight in Vegas. ??
I shoot Romiro a text, telling him to see what the fucker from Vegas is up to. ?
Stretching, I get up from my chair. I’ve been working for the past couple of hours on the legitimate side of our business. Smoothing out things with our lawyers. I crack my fingers and roll my shoulders before heading to the door. ??
I have never minded the silence; it is always welcomed. Especially in a family as big as mine, they can become a headache very quickly. ?
I’m surprised to see that my living room is vacant and no one is in there. My eyes narrow slightly, as Valentina should still be here. My sister and Ma might not agree with the things I do as Capo, but they wouldn’t act out and go against my instructions. ??
I make my way to my bedroom and relax when I hear the tap running in my bathroom. I settle on one of the brown armchairs in the corner of my room. Slipping my phone out, I scroll till I reach Moretti’s number.
My thumb hovers over it, but my eyes snap to the bathroom door when I hear soft humming. She’s humming? Whoever is marrying her is definitely getting a handful. An amused smile touches my face. It quickly turns into a smug smirk as she steps out of the bathroom. She jumps a little, her small palm clenching her chest.
“What the fuck! You scared me,” she yelps. I remain seated and rest my elbows on my knees, watching her.
“Such a filthy mouth for a supposed honorable Italian woman. Besides, how can I scare you when I’m just sitting in my room?” I tut, amused. Valentina glares at me and flips me off before heading to the door. ??
“Where are you going?” I ask. She pauses and looks back at me.
“To hell. Actually, never mind, that’s your actual home.”
I bark out a laugh and her cheeks seem to heat in response.
“Come here,” I order, at which she shakes her head. “Come here, Valentina, or so help me God, I will fucking spank you for being disobedient.”
Her eyes widen before she darts toward the chair farthest away from me. Once she settles, she looks at me with a strange expression, but it’s gone before I’m able to decipher it. ??
“Thank you,” she says softly. My jaw clenches, and I shake my head.
“What for?” I murmur.
“For taking care of me while I was sick.” She fiddles with her hands.
“It wasn’t for your benefit. You’re no use to me dead,” I say, and she flinches. A flicker of guilt settles in my chest, but I quickly put it out. I grind my teeth to stop myself from retracting what I said. She’s the fucking enemy, no matter what she makes me feel. ??I clear my throat before speaking.
“What do you know about your cousin?” I ask her. She tilts her head. It’s subtle enough that it’s barely noticeable, but I notice it.
“Which one?”
“Giuseppe.”
She stiffens for a second before trying to appear relaxed. I narrow my eyes.
“Not much, except that he was initiated a couple of weeks ago.”
The lie rolls off her tongue so well, if I didn’t know better, I would’ve believed her. I stand abruptly and stalk toward her. ??
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Valentina. You don’t want to fuck with me,” I warn. Her face twists in disgust.
She sneers, “You don’t scare me, Emiliano Folonari. Especially a man who can’t even look at a woman after kissing her.”
I trap her in her seat with my hands on the sides of the armchair. My face is inches from hers. I take in her eyes, flushed cheeks, shaky breaths, my gaze stopping on her lips.
“You want to bet that I can’t look a woman in the face after kissing her?” I challenge. She clenches her jaw, not answering me. ?“Answer me, ragazza mocciosa,” I purr in her ear.
A shiver racks her body. Without a thought, my tongue darts out and sucks her earlobe into my mouth. I tug on it lightly before letting it go. As my nose trails down the side of her slender neck, she makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat, but she doesn’t move. I pause, stepping back abruptly, running my fingers through my hair. She stares up at me, confused and unsure. I should leave the room before I do something that I’ll regret…or worse yet, not regret at all.
“I’m leaving,” I mutter. ??