VALENTINA
Val stared at her reflection and tugged at the skin-tight, midnight silk that hugged her hips. The dress was a bit too snug for her liking, but she didn't have time to find a new dress after the attack at A&C Couture. She found this spare in her mother's closet.
She sighed, bent over to readjust her chest in the strapless gown one last time, and exited her bedroom. The McLeod's Black and White gala started in an hour, and she knew her father would want to arrive on time to begin schmoozing Henry McLeod. They needed Henry to recognize the importance of an alliance with the Romano, even an alliance no longer secured by an engagement between Val and Ezra.
Val reached the top of the stairs and gathered the floor-length dress in one hand as she slowly began the descent. She kept her eyes on her feet, calculating her steps in the ungodly-tall heels. With her recent luck, she'd likely trip and break her neck.
From the corner of her eye, Val saw movement at the bottom of the stairs. She figured it was Luca, who'd become her constant shadow over the past few days, or her Uncle Adriano, waiting to guide her to their limousines for the evening. The figure, however, cleared his throat, breaking Val's concentration. She looked up from the stairs and paused as she beheld the man waiting for her in the foyer.
"Matteo?" His name left her lips as a question. He looked unfathomably handsome in a simple black suit.
She hadn't seen the hitman since visiting Adele Costa's home two days prior. According to small reports from Lara, he had improved every day, but Val hadn't spoken to Matteo herself in the time that passed. She didn't think he wanted her to reach out again, especially after their tense conversation in his bedroom.
Val knew she pushed him too far. She'd seen his patience wearing in his eyes, but she was desperate for answers. Desperate to know why he kept her an arms length away. Desperate to understand why he chose to be alone.
Then he snapped, stunning Val with the harsh reality of his words. Throughout their time together, she hadn't once stopped to consider their opposing stations in the famiglia.
As the daughter of a don, their world lifted Val on a pedestal, destined to marry a man from a great family in the Cosa Nostra for political benefits. As a soldier, Matteo could only rise so far. They walked in different circles, only intersecting as bodyguard and princess.
And, like a fool, she'd never considered how that might impact him. For all women of high-birth in the Cosa Nostra, very little determined their worth beyond their virtue. If Val's father discovered that she'd so much as kissed a man while away at Oxford, he'd be furious. She'd avoided any serious relationships throughout her life for that reason. Leonardo would undoubtedly punish her, but he would kill the poor soul who dared to defile her. And, if he discovered that Matteo, his own soldier, had broken his oath and pursued her, Val knew that there would be nothing left of the hitman.
Selfishly, she'd flirted with him, anyway. She'd wanted him to touch her, to ruin her, only focusing on her own desires. Matteo was right to push her away.
"You're here," she murmured, recovering enough to take another small step down the stairs. "How are you feeling? Your shoulder and back?"
"Much better," he answered, shifting his massive shoulders beneath his jacket as if to prove his point.
Val narrowed her eyes, searching for any sign of pain on his face. If Matteo still felt discomfort, however, he concealed it well. "So my father is letting you return to work, then?" she wondered, cocking a brow.
"He would've liked for me to rest another day or two." He released a small huff of amusement. Val wasn't surprised. Her father wanted to protect his strongest asset, after all. "But I convinced him that we'd need top security."
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.
Matteo nodded, pulling his mind from its murderous spiral. "Fine. Go get the car ready, you're driving."
Although his shoulder injury had improved, he didn't trust himself to drive the sottocapo and principessa of the Romano famiglia yet, especially given the threat of the Russian mob. He wouldn't be capable of evading a pursuing car for long if things went south that evening.
As Luca turned to prepare the car, Adriano appeared at the top of the stairs. He wore a tuxedo, a Rolex decorating his wrist and family heirloom rings lining his fingers, a display meant to flaunt the wealth of the Romano family. Matteo knew that the underboss wouldn't wear something so flashy if Leonardo had given him a choice, but the boss wanted to impress.
Adriano's eyes brightened when they landed on Valentina, as if he knew that his niece would outshine any other woman in attendance at the gala. "You're a vision, kid," he whistled. "Although I suppose I shouldn't call you 'kid' anymore. You're a full blown woman, now."
Matteo couldn't agree more. When Val first arrived back in New York after her exile to England, he'd been determined to regard her as the same eighteen year old girl that had clung to his shoulders after the birthday massacre. A fool's hope, he realized. Val left New York as a girl and returned as a woman. No one could deny it.
Val grinned at her uncle's compliment, twirling on the spot to offer him a better view of the dress. "Recognize this?"
"It's your mothers, isn't it?" Adriano asked incredulously as he reached the bottom step. "Dio, you look more and more like her every day. Just wait until your father sees you in it."
A faint blush dusted Val's cheeks, and Matteo thought he'd never seen something so beautiful. He tore his eyes from the principessa before Adriano noticed his staring and turned to his sottocapo. "We've got the car running outside. Ready when you are."
"Lead the way," Adriano replied, gallantly extending his elbow for Val to take. She looped her diamond bracelet clad wrist through his arm, and the pair followed behind Matteo.
He held the door open for them, pretending not to notice the way Val's hazel eyes peeked up at him as they passed. Her familiar scent washed over him, and Matteo had to ignore the tightening in his groin.
"I'll ride in the front, Costa," Adriano announced when he'd opened the back door of the SUV for Val to slide in. "I fuckin' hate riding in the back of these things. Makes me feel too much like my brother."
Matteo paused. Adriano already rounded the back of the car for the passenger side door, leaving little room for debate. When Matteo turned his eyes down to the back row of the armored SUV, he saw Val's eyes widen before she scooted over, offering him room to slide in beside her.
Every muscle in Matteo's body went rigid as he slowly stooped to crawl into the back row. Memories of the last time they'd rode in the back of a car together flashed through his mind: Val's worried eyes peering down at him, her fingers stroking his hairline as he rested his head in her lap, the tears that slipped down her perfect, round cheeks. He hoped that this evening had a different outcome.
He settled into the seat closest to the window, a generous space separating his body from Val's side. He kept his gaze forward, trained on the road ahead as Luca slowly pulled out of the drive, but the young woman beside him wasn't so strong. Val's curious eyes occasionally flickered in his direction, until eventually she gave up.
They drove into the city, closer to the grand five-star hotel that the McLeod's rented out for their gala. Adriano kept up the conversation from the front seats, but Matteo hardly paid attention to his underboss' reports. Instead, he focused on Val.
She'd stopped her attempts to meet his gaze and now stared out the window. Tendrils of dark brown fell from her intricate updo, gracing her slender shoulders. A little freckle that Matteo had never noticed before peeked in the crevice between her breasts, barely visible at the neckline of her mother's silk gown. She clasped her hands in her lap, fingers fidgeting amongst each other. And the long slit of her dress traveled up her plentiful thigh, revealing her bouncing knee.
He wondered if she even realized her nervous habits, or if her mind was too swamped with worry for this evening. A muscle in her jaw quivered, exposing the extent of her stress for her first gala with the famiglia.
God help him, Matteo wanted to slide across the street and cup her tension-filled jaw. Slide his thumb over her cheek and whisper that she had nothing to fear. He'd stay by her side throughout the evening. He wanted to assure her that she'd make the famiglia proud.
But he couldn't. Not with her uncle sitting mere feet away.
So Matteo did the next best thing. He slowly reached his hand across the middle seat that separated them and captured Val's trembling fingers, enveloping her. Soft against hard, gentle within rough. Her round eyes flashed toward him, but Matteo already returned his gaze to the road ahead, inconspicuous.
After a moment, Val's fingers tightened around his, drawing strength from his touch, and Matteo didn't let go.
He'd never let go.