The Hitman's Mark

15. Family

"What time is Dr. Banks coming over tomorrow, Val?" Kaia asked, scratching behind Cricket's ear one last time before tossing the toy across their circle.

"Uh, I think the first session is at one," Val answered, tucking her knees into her chest. In all honesty, it was a wonder she could remember the times of every appointment and specialist visit. Between her efforts to help the trafficking victims and an increased workload from her father, she'd been teetering on the edge of exhaustion for the better part of the week.

She desperately needed a vacation. Or, at least a break. But breaks wouldn't earn Val freedom from her impending marriage to Ezra McLeod. Maybe she'd allow herself a nap or pool day when her father finally broke off the engagement.

A soft knock at the townhouse's front door ripped Val from her thoughts. She blinked toward the front entrance just as Matteo sidestepped into the room. He typically stayed outside to give the women space unless he needed to speak to Val about something. Still, the rescued girls seemed more at-ease with him than they'd been a week prior.

Matteo's eyes scanned the room until they settled on Val, seated in the circle of women with Cricket. "Val? Have you checked your phone?"

"No?" she said, frowning. "Why?"

She immediately grabbed for her cellphone in her hoodie's front pocket, muttering a hushed curse when the screen failed to turn on. Out of battery.

"Leonardo called. Said he wanted you home an hour ago to discuss your review of his investment properties' financials." Matteo's voice was hard and cold–businesslike. He wielded the same tone that he used when speaking to his guards or the capos.

"Shit, shit, shit." Val scrambled to her feet.

After her work to expose Mario's involvement with Belyaev, Val's father gave her another load of financial records to review. She'd completed her analysis of the binders several days ago, but she forgot that she'd agreed to discuss her findings with Leonardo prior to his meeting with the capos that Friday. Now, she was late.

"Everything okay?" Allison asked, swiping a stray black curl behind her ear as she rose beside Val.

"Everything's fine," Val answered, her voice a higher pitch than usual. She stooped to pick up her bag and sling it over her shoulder, attempting to muster a smile for the girls blinking up at her in concern. "Totally fine. Don't worry about me."

"You coming, principessa?" Matteo drawled from the doorway. He sounded unimpressed. Like he'd never had to remind a mafioso about their meeting with the boss before, and Val was the first.

She shot him a glare over her shoulder. "Will you go start the car, please? I'll be out in a minute."

He huffed a short, scalding sound before exiting the townhouse.

Allison stared after him with a cocked brow. "Is he always like that?"

"Actually, he's usually worse," Val joked, patting the top of Cricket's head.

"Maybe he wouldn't be so grumpy if he didn't have to sit outside all afternoon while you visit us," Allison teased, an easy smile gracing her full lips.

Val blinked. "Really? Would you all be okay if he came inside next time?"

Allison, ever the spokesperson of the group, nodded. "Dr. Banks said it might be beneficial if we start to expand our social interactions with trusted men. We all agreed that Matteo seems to be the logical choice. You trust him, after all."

Val nodded. She did trust Matteo with her life, and he'd proven himself to be attentive to the needs of the five young women in the safe house. He had never even complained about standing outside the townhouse for hours on end while Val visited her new friends.

"W-we also thought he might be willing to teach us something," Bea, the youngest and shiest of the group, said from her spot on the floor. "A little self-defense? S-so we don't feel so helpless."

Bea's timid suggestion brought an immediate smile to Val's face. She could hardly believe that she hadn't thought of something like self-defense classes before. Again, Matteo felt like the logical choice for tutor.

"That's a great idea! I'll ask him, though I can't imagine he'll say no," Val confirmed, placing her hand on the doorknob. She could vaguely hear the purr of the Alfa Romeo's engine outside.

Before she pushed the door open to join Matteo and rush home to her father, however, she glanced back at all five of the women. "Also... I just wanted to tell you all that I'm so happy you're here. Seriously. And I'm proud of–"

"Okay, okay! Don't get all sentimental on us!" Allison interrupted her, pulling open the front door before Val had truly finished. "Go get in that car before that man drives off without you!"

"Right," Val laughed, shaking her head and rushing out the door. She practically jogged down the cobblestone path that led to the road, where Matteo's black sports car waited. A smile still tugged on her lips when she slid into the passenger seat and shut the car door behind her.

She set her purse on the floor and fastened her seatbelt before realizing that Matteo stared at her like she'd grown a second head. "What?" she challenged.

He narrowed his whiskey brown eyes, a muscle in his jaw working as he considered her for a long moment. Finally, he shrugged. "I thought you'd be shitting yourself for forgetting this meeting with your father. Instead, you look... happy."

Val frowned. "What's wrong with being happy?"

Matteo's lips pressed into a thin line, then he turned his attention to the gear shift and slowly eased the sedan into action. "Nothing," he answered at last. "It's just that most capos wouldn't dare make their don wait for them."

"Most capos don't call the boss papà," Val replied, the words icier than she intended.

The dark-haired hitman huffed an almost-laugh, shook his head, and focused on the road. One hand gripped the Alfa Romeo's gear shift, the other relaxed on the steering wheel, the veins beneath his tan skin rippling with every easy movement.

Val thought their conversation over, but, as they sped down the familiar Scarsdale streets, Matteo's deep, rumbling voice filled the car again.

"Val," he murmured, and the sound sent a shiver down her spine. "Most capos aren't happy after spending a day with charity, either."

Val frowned, but she didn't respond. She couldn't think of anything to say. Matteo's words bothered her more than she cared to admit. Of course, she already knew the truth of his statement. She doubted anyone in the Cosa Nostra willingly gave their time for the betterment of the less fortunate and knew that her devotion to the trafficked women would be seen as unusual, at best.

What bothered Val the most about Matteo's words, however, wasn't their truth. No.

It was the fact that Matteo's quiet, rumbling statement held a warning. A warning that stoked the underlying fear that had plagued Val's mind since she returned to New York two weeks ago. A fear that she didn't belong in this world. A fear that she didn't have what it takes to lead the Cosa Nostra.

A fear that she never would.