9

Valentina

I can feel the weight of ridiculous expectations crushing my shoulders. The absurd mixed with the downright ludicrous. I roll onto my right side, forgetting the scuffle the other night at the bar in Hartford. Pain shoots down my entire leg and I wonder if I’ve done some serious damage. It’s been days since I’ve heard from Leonardo, he hasn’t contacted me and I’ve gone out of my way not to text him. I’m not sure of Giovanni’s motives, let alone whether he keeps his word.

I run my finger over my fresh tattoo. An addition to my roman numeral tally. Three down, two to go. Visions of a private hell, now long over, play in the back of my mind. The hollow screams turning into garbled groans still haunt me, I hear them every time I close my eyes. My secrecy serves as a breeding ground for vengeance. I put on my public persona like I put on my clothes in the morning.

Always playing the part. Always seeking revenge.

I can’t relax in my bed and decide to get my lazy ass up and make my favorite breakfast to get myself out of my funk. When Vito and I were little, our mom would make us pancakes with sprinkles mixed into the batter. Sometimes, she would use star sprinkles or little car-shaped sprinkles. It’s one of the few fond memories I have of our childhood, back in the days before she would disappear and come back covered in purple bruises. I shake away the memories and focus on gathering my ingredients. Just as I’m about to pour the first scoop into the frypan, a hard thumping sound vibrates through the entry door.

“Hold up!” I shout as I place everything on the bench and go to answer the door. Without thinking, I unlatch the chain and yank the door open in annoyance.

Bad. Fucking. Decision.

Three balaclava-clad fuckers charge me, knocking me on my ass before I can even blink. I land heavily onto my right leg and swallow the groan that tries to escape. The last fucker through the door closes it behind him and stands guard with a handgun pointed at me. Before I can get to my feet, I’m hauled off the ground by my hair, the pain excruciating. I twist as I’m pulled up and land a closed fist into the bastard's jaw. He yanks my hair harder, pulling me into him.

I feel a hard blow to my stomach and the air gushes out of me, winding me instantly. I swing my knee up and try to connect with his balls but miss and manage to knee his thigh.

“Restrain her,” the one at the door orders. His thick Irish accent has my ears pricking up.

I’m twisted and held against a rock-hard chest before I can try to maneuver myself out of his grip, my arms held tight behind my back. For good measure the third fucker punches me in the ribs and I sag forward, coughing up what feels like my lungs.

“Who the fuck are you?” I rasp as I grapple the bastard's legs and try to take him down. He doesn’t fucking move and I don’t know why I even thought I could get the massive prick to buckle; his arms are the size of my waist.

“Tell your brother we are waiting for payment. Next time, we won’t be so lenient.” The one holding the gun lunges forward and pistol whips me across the cheek.

I spit my blood at him. There’s something in his tone, in the melodic twang of his accent that sounds familiar. I narrow my eyes at him, trying to place his voice. His green orbs stare back at me, studying me, and there’s nothing but hostility behind them.

“Tell him yourself.” I snort the blood back up my nose, making an unladylike noise, pool it in my mouth, and spit it in his face.

He shakes his head at me. “They said you should be handling the family business. You’ve got the balls, pretty little princess.” He taps me on the nose.

I don’t see the fist coming at me, I just feel the sharp crack, and then nothing.

_ _ _

Rap.

Rap.

Rap.

Is that the beat of my heart in my head or a ticking clock?


Rap.

Rap.

Rap.

This time, it sounds closer but with more of an echo.

“Valentina, answer the fucking door.”

I blink as I come to. I attempt to speak, but the agony that jolts through my jaw stops me. I open my eyes and I’m staring at my shoes, all lined up neatly by the wall near the front door. At least the fucking bastards had the decency to turn me on my side so I didn’t choke on my mix of spit and blood.

I push up on one hand. “Fuck,” I hiss.

“Valentina.” Leonardo’s voice is desperate.

“Give me a minute,” I growl in response. I find the more I grit my teeth the better I am at dealing with the pain. I’ve been in worse condition before. I’d had my ass kicked so many times when I first started at the fights that even I thought I’d end up in ER.

“Hurry the fuck up or I’m going to kick the door in.”

I manage to crawl onto my hands and knees, stopping for a few deep breaths before I climb my way up the wall to stand. Another pause for some deep breaths. Hmm, the fuckers didn’t do as bad a job as I first thought. Weak pussies.

I turn the lock and realize they must have locked the door after them as they left. The mind boggles. I open the door, and Leonardo’s face drops, his ashen color spreads from his forehead right down to the base of his neck.

“Who the fuck did this to you?” he growls through clenched teeth and rushes in. His hands hover over my face, scared to touch me in case he hurts me.

“Some Irish fuckers. Three of them. I’m okay though, they only roughed me up a bit.” I grab his hands to stop him from fussing.

His eyes scan my face, taking in the injuries. He knows all too well not to ask questions. It’s our first rule with this thing we’ve got going on. No questions about each other’s business. I must look like a rainbow of colored bruising by now. I stretch my jaw and the pain is bearable.

“I’m running you a bath. Don’t fucking fight me on this.” Leonardo storms past me and heads for the bathroom.

I sigh in defeat. I don’t like being looked after, and he knows it. I never let anyone do shit for me. I take care of myself, and I’ll be damned if I ever let this shit happen again.

I stalk over to the bathroom door and lean my aching body against the door frame. I watch as he searches in the cabinet and finds a glitter bath bomb, looking like he struck gold, and drops it into the steaming bath. The contrast of a tatted up dangerous man holding a pretty glittering bath bomb makes me smile. He is the light and dark of this world.

Get the fuck in and shut the fuck up.” He turns to me and grins like he’s secretly happy he’s torturing me.

“Only this one time. Got it?” I poke him in the chest.

“Never again.” He kisses my forehead and leaves me to undress in privacy.

I’m glad he didn’t stay in the bathroom to watch me. My stomach and ribs are painted in purple and blue bruises. I climb into the bath and sink until the water is up under my chin. The water is soothing, and I close my eyes to breathe in the bubble gum scent from the bath bomb. This glitter is going to be a bitch to clean up.

“Knock, knock.” Leonardo pushes the door open. I’m not sure how long I’ve been soaking in here, but it has soothed my aches.

I open my eyes to see him standing there butt naked apart from my barbie apron I wear while baking. My mom bought it for me for my eighth birthday. I remember baking cupcakes with her every weekend after that.

“I brought you lunch.” He saunters in with a plate of pancakes with sprinkles.

I snort laughing and it hurts my face, but I can’t help it. “You look ridiculous. Why are you naked?”

He twirls on the spot, his torso and arms covered in tattoos and his sexy ass on display. “I think I look cute.” Leonardo places the food on the edge of the bath.

“You look ridiculous.” I move until I’m sitting up and take the plate. I cut off a large piece with the edge of the fork and shove it in my mouth. “Mmm, not bad,” I mumble through chewing.

“You’re such a lady.” He splashes the water at me.

“Hey, you’ll get glitter in my pancakes.”

Leonardo sits on the edge of the bath and surveys the damage to my face. “I think you’ll live.”

He narrows his eyes. I know just from the set of his jaw that he is plotting revenge for whoever did this to me. Dante and Enzo will happily go along with his crazy idea as long as they get to torture someone.

I shove another large piece in my mouth and my tattoo on my inner wrist catches Leonardo’s eye. He reaches for me and takes my arm in his hand, twisting to get a better look. “New addition?”

“Another kill down,” I answer mid-chew. I swallow the pancake and gaze up at him. “Don’t you tattoo your important kills for reference?”

“I don’t have enough skin for that.” He breaks off a piece of the pancake and throws it in his mouth, still holding onto my wrist with his other hand. He runs his fingers over the three lines. “How many more?”

“Only two.”

His ebony eyes weave spells of illicit magic over me and I feel a connection like never before. He’s my dark poison who understands my need to etch my kills on my skin for eternity.

He winks and breaks the moment. “Always here to assist.”

“Noted,” I wink back at him to let him know that I understand. “Now, get out and let me savor the rest of this pancake in peace.” I grab his hand before he moves. “Thank you.”

He stands without answering and waltzes out of the bathroom, his bare ass decorated with the bow from the apron tie.

I climb out of the bath and drape my robe around my shoulders, sliding my glitter-covered arms through the sleeves. I tie it up and head to the kitchen where I find Leonardo concentrating on his phone screen, his fingers typing fast.

“What are you doing?” I question him as I grab out the milk to make coffee.

He looks up and studies my face again. “Getting insider information.”

“Leonardo, please leave it.” I frown and turn to the coffee machine. Sharp pain stabs me from the sudden movement and I suck in a breath.

“Sorry, no can do. You don’t just go around beating up women.” He watches me as I breathe in as deep as the pain allows me.

“My brother and cousins will handle it. I can fucking guarantee you that much.” I would happily punch my fucking brother in the face myself if I knew he wouldn’t feel like absolute shit for being the cause of this.

“I’ll give them a week.” Leonardo’s eyes grow dark and they drop back to his phone.

I turn around and ignore him, continuing to make the coffee. I hear his movements and turn my head to find him standing at the fridge, the Barbie apron still tied around him. I run my eyes over his muscled stomach, tracing them up over the contours of his chest, and finally meet his sultry dark eyes. He is devastatingly beautiful and I crave him more than anything right this minute.

Leonardo prowls toward me as I silently will him closer. Giovanni’s words loudly play in the back of my mind. I’m torn. I halt him mid-step and press my hand into his chest. “We can’t,” I blurt out.

His eyes search mine. “Are you too sore?” He looks worried again.

As easy as it would be to lie to him and use my injuries as an excuse. I owe him the truth. Always the truth. I won’t lie to him to spare his feelings. I pause, trying to find the right words. “Giovanni said we can’t fuck until the engagement night.”

He looks at me, serious for a split second before his face lights up and he bursts into laughter. “Are you fucking joking?”

“It’s not a joke. He said he’d kill you if we fucked before then.”

“He doesn’t scare me. Besides, how the fuck would he know what we do, anyway?”

“He probably has this place under surveillance.” My eyes dart around the room looking for tell-tale signs of bugging.

“What about after this dumb arrangement?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“He said we can fuck as long as he’s watching.” I roll my eyes. Men are such fuckwits.

“You worry too much.” Leonardo closes the gap between us and drops to his knees. “Let’s give him a show he’ll bat one out over.”

“Stop.” I try to pull him back up.

He catches my wrists in his hands and a wicked grin spreads across his face. “He said no fucking. I’m obeying his stupid rules here, Valentina. I’ll obey whatever the fuck you two want as long as I have part ownership of this.” He lets go of my wrists and nudges my legs apart. “Spread them, baby girl.”

I almost regret telling him my obsession with that mafia movie. Every chance he gets, he likes to indirectly tease me about it by calling me baby girl. “Stop it.” I try to swat him away.

His eyes are molten with wicked desire. “Now.” The lust in his voice has me obeying him without any further objections.

I step my legs apart for him and he spreads me wide blowing on my clit. The sweetest ache spreads through me and I grip the edge of the bench for support.

I bite down on my lower lip when his tongue licks my opening. His wicked mouth wraps around my clit, sucking it in a slow rhythm. He circles and nips as his two fingers enter me, heightening my pleasure. My head lolls back, and I press my ass against the bench for support. My legs start to shake with the building pressure.

I moan his name as his stubble brushes over my most sensitive part. The dragging of his teeth has me nearly buckle, the sensation rippling through me like waves in the ocean. I can feel myself crashing into his mouth, grinding against him to find the release.

“Holy fuck,” I choke as my orgasm rips through me like red hot lava. Leonardo’s hands grip my upper thighs to support my weight. My heart races in my chest, and I glance down at him, his satisfied grin staring back at me.

“That was the fastest you’ve ever come. You like the thought of someone watching.” He slides a finger back into me as I quiver and quake, barely able to hold myself up. “I love when you pulsate around me.” He pulls his finger out and sucks off my wetness.

My body aches from the beating earlier but it also hums with released pleasure. “Never in my wildest dreams did I think a guy wearing a Barbie apron would get me off.” I run my hands through his hair, grab a handful, and pull him up so he’s pressed against me.

“I can wear it next time too, if it turns you on.” He presses his hardness into my stomach making me wince. “Shit, I forgot.” He eases away from me.

“It’s probably better this way. It might stop us from fucking each other’s brains out for a few days. I mean, I’d hate to see you turned into mincemeat for my babies.”

“Mincemeat?” He raises an eyebrow. “Let him fucking try,” he growls into my mouth.