The Hitman's Mark

26. Reunions

Val reached the bottom step and leaned against the rail. "Do you really think the Bratva will attack a charity gala filled with the most dangerous men in the Cosa Nostra?"

Matteo shook his head, taking a step closer while his eyes raked down the length of Val's body. She schooled her face into a mask of passive indifference, even as her stomach fluttered. "I'm more concerned with the other famiglias that'll be present. Anytime every house of the Cosa Nostra gathers, bloodshed follows."

Right. How could Val forget that, in addition to the McLeod's, she'd also have to put on a show for the other three families that controlled New York's underground? Romano, Mazza, Russo, and Lombardi – all akin to royalty in the Cosa Nostra. All run by bloodthirsty men that would do anything for power.

"I've had enough bloodshed for the rest of my life, thanks," Val muttered dryly, taking the final step onto the marble foyer floor. Now on the same level as Matteo, she had to tip her chin back to look him in the eye. A small smirk curled on her mauve-painted lips. "Good thing I've got the Matteo Costa to protect me. At least, as long as there aren't any clowns..."

A dangerous glint played in his deep brown eyes. "Brat," he murmured, but the word felt more like a teasing caress than an insult.

"First night back and you're already calling me names?" Val's smile grew, and she reached out to pick an invisible speck of dust from the lapels of his jacket. His predatory gaze watched every movement, but he didn't step back. "You must have missed me."

Val held her breath, eagerly awaiting Matteo's next move in their dangerous little game, but footsteps across the foyer interrupted their conversation. She took a quick step back, tampering her disappointment. Matteo had already turned away from her, putting a healthy distance between their bodies once more.

"Wow, Val." Luca blew out a low whistle as he crossed the marble toward them. He wore a similar suit to Matteo, simple and handsome, with his hair freshly buzzed short for the event. When he arrived in front of Val and Matteo, he reached out a hand for her to take. "You look beautiful."

She laughed at his display of chivalry, fluttering her thick, mascara-lined lashes as she offered him her knuckles. The young bodyguard swooped low and pressed his lips to her knuckles. "Truly a sight for sore eyes," he added, the words playful.

"Thank you, kind sir," Val cooed. She gave him an appraising look and nodded toward his suit. "You clean up nicely, too."

From the corner of her eye, she swore she saw Matteo's hand curl and uncurl into a fist at his side. When she looked at him again, the planes of his face had hardened, his jaw tight. And, Dio, the possessive gleam in his eyes exhilarated more than it should.

***

MATTEO

Matteo had no right – no sane reason – to want to slice Luca's lips from his body. And yet, when he watched the young mafioso dip to press a chaste kiss to Val's knuckles, red lined Matteo's vision.

He wanted to rip Val away from her younger bodyguard, pull her into the nearest supplies closet and devour her, until all thoughts of Luca's lips were erased from her memory. He wanted to drop to his knees and peel away the skin-tight black silk covering her body and taste what he'd craved for the last month. He'd imagined her taste. Every damn night when he tossed in his bed and couldn't sleep...

"Alfonso said the don and Lara are taking a separate vehicle to the gala, so we're just waiting for Adriano," Luca reported when he stood upright again, straightening his suit jacket.