The Hitman's Mark

14. Little Victories

He recounted the remainder of the events that transpired that afternoon. With more stealth than blunt force, the Romano men raided the block of hotel rooms used by the Bratva. Belyaev's men were unprepared, like too many months of uninterrupted success had made them lazy and complacent. In the span of minutes, they'd killed every enemy in the Harrison Hotel. Taking a hostage to torture for information would've been too risky.

Matteo wished he could've made them suffer, at least a little.

"What about the girls? What happened to them?" Val asked, brow furrowed in concern.

"An ambulance took them to a hospital where they're being treated and watched carefully. A few of them were in rough shape."

Val nodded, raking her teeth across her full bottom lip in deep thought. "Good. That's good. I'll need to find out which hospital they were taken to. Do you know?"

Matteo frowned, surprised by the direction of Val's questioning. "Do you plan on visiting them?"

"Yes," she answered without hesitating. "I plan on inviting them to stay with us, the Romano, if they don't have any family to return to."

"Oh?" Matteo's brows lifted. "Does your father know about his future housemates?"

Val rolled her eyes, the hint of a smile cracking her mask. "They won't be staying at the mansion. It's too busy. Too... filled with big, intimidating men." She gestured toward his body, as if he only proved her point.

Matteo felt one corner of his own mouth tilt into a smirk as the principessa continued. "They'll stay at one of my father's townhomes. I plan on hiring professionals, therapists and skills coaches, to help rehabilitate them. They'll be free to heal at their own pace, in their own time."

As Val spoke more and more about her plan for the women, life returned to her eyes. Her cheeks began to glow with color, and excitement underscored her every word, like she'd been waiting all day to reveal her grand plan and Matteo was the first person willing to listen. She mentioned enlisting the help of therapy animals–dogs and cats and bunnies– and hiring an older, female housekeeper and chef to watch over the girls.

She was vivaciously ambitious, like she'd been born with a heart that bled for the plights of others and wouldn't be satisfied unless she could help them. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. A bright light in their dark world.

When she finished, she stared up at him expectantly. "Well, what do you think?"

He hadn't noticed that she'd drawn closer while speaking, and now they faced each other, one shoulder leaning on the brick wall each, scarcely two feet separating them. He smelt the strong remnants of liquor on her lips.

"You coordinated all of that in one day?" Matteo cocked a brow.

She tucked a stray wave of hair behind her ear, and, even in the darkness, he saw a delicate blush grace her cheeks. "Well, Luca helped."

"Really?" Matteo challenged, shifting even closer.

Val laughed softly, her grappa-lined breath fanning his cheeks. "Fine, he only provided moral support, but he's good company."

"Better than me?"

Something in Val's hazel eyes darkened, and her innocent smile morphed into a sinful smirk. Val brought the last swig of grappa to her lips and downed the glass, the slender column of her throat working as she swallowed the liquid fire. When she spoke again, her lips were moist with the golden liquor, begging to be tasted. "Much better than you, cane."

The sight of her wicked smile reminded Matteo of the last time they'd stood so close to one another. On the second floor of Lo Specchio, when he'd held Val's jaw between his thumb and forefinger and she'd tangled her delicate fingers in the roots of his hair, tugging and teasing and urging him closer.