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4

Valentina

Heart pounding in my chest, I go back to the lobby, feeling like I want to run as far away from here as I can. I slink through the doors to find the stoic figure of my soon-to-be husband waiting for me.

“Clingy much?” I waltz past him and beeline for the bathrooms.

He catches my hand, and although he is gentle in his grip and movements, he is no doubt staking a claim and showing me who he thinks is boss.

“Don’t grab me again.” I pull my hand free. My eyes dart around for any sign of Leonardo.

Giovanni holds his hands up in surrender. “Can we just be civil with each other? Is there any part of you, somewhere deep down, which isn’t always on guard and acting like a rabid animal?”

I study him for a moment and wonder whatever the fuck went wrong in his life to make him so sterile. “No.” I hear him exhale in frustration. The little dance of glee I mentally do knowing that I’m pissing him off brings a smile to my face.

His eyes roam over me and take in my appearance, and a look of disappointment flashes for a split second, across his otherwise deadpan face. “We’re wanted in the dining hall.”

“After you, dearest future hubby.” I wink at him hoping to anger him some more.

He glances at me like I’ve grown a second head before he simply turns and stalks back to our seats.

Papa and Vito are deep in conversation as I approach our table.

“Go to the front where the MC is, Valentina,” Papa orders without looking up.

Vito nods at me in reassurance. The funny thing with having a twin is that it’s like you can read each other’s minds and know what the other wants before they want it. We often finish the other’s sentences and know when the other is hurting. I trust Vito with my life, and I would die for him if it ever came to that, so I know with his simple nod that I am good to go and do as Papa says.

I feel as though I’m doing a walk of shame as I dodge my way through the seated guests. A wrong step could expose my bare ass and the thought makes me chuckle under my breath. My eyes scan the room for him and lo and behold, there he is, sitting with Enzo and Summer. Only the three of them at their table, most probably because Enzo is being his usual charming self.

I catch Leonardo’s eyes and he winks at me, patting his suit jacket and letting me know my panties are safe in his inner pocket. I roll my eyes and turn my gaze to Giovanni.

“Why are we up here?” I pull at the hem of my t-shirt, thanking my lucky stars there’s no stage to stand on.

“Wait and see.” His voice is indifferent, a complete turnaround from our last few encounters.

I blow out a slow breath through my pursed lips and wait as the MC taps the mic to get everyone’s attention.

“A little announcement, so please hush.” The MC waits for the chatter to die down.

My heart drops into my stomach. I knew this fucked up moment was coming, but I didn’t think it would be so officially announced. The fuck is my papa up to and how the hell do I get out of this without blood being spilled.

“Please welcome none other than the Tommaso Romano.” The MC holds his hand out to welcome Tommaso to the front of the room.

The crowd whistles and cheers as the mobster makes his way to us. I watch him carefully; his strides are purposeful and the placement of his hands calculated. I know that under his pinstripe suit jacket sits a nice little handgun, ready to fire when needed. A man as despicable and corrupt as Tommaso Romano doesn’t roam unarmed. Even here in a room with his closest loyal subjects he needs to be on guard at all times. I would feel sorry for him if I didn’t want to murder him myself.

He approaches me and gives me a quick kiss on each cheek as though we are on good terms. Always the actor. He makes my skin crawl. Tommaso grips his son in a one-armed, tight hug and whispers something in his ear before taking the mic from the MC.

“Good evening, my good friends. Thank you all for attending this ball for a charity close to my heart. I hope your goodwill runs as freely as your pockets are deep.” He pauses to let the crowd clap. “They say a thousand heads must roll to gain power. This, my friends, is not true. You see, young love has flourished between my good friend’s daughter and my son.”

I keep my eyes on the back wall while I try to keep calm and be on my best behavior. I agreed not to act like my usual bitchy self, at least until this charade was over.

“Love flourishes in the most unlikely circumstances. In this once-divided world of ours, love has conquered all, and it is my honor to announce Valentina Mancini and my son, Giovanni’s soon-to-be engagement.”

Another pause to let that bullshit lie sink in. The crowd whistles and cheers. Jesus, if he thinks he can sell this lie to these idiots, then he must be more stupid than I first thought.

My eyes, as much as I struggle to keep them pointed to the back wall, find Leonardo. He sits poised in his seat, not clapping, a look of cunning plastered on his face. I want to mouth that I’m sorry, but all I can do is stare at him and hope he knows how I feel. A wildfire of rage torrents through my guts making me nauseatingly sick. A suffocating feeling cloaks making me wish it were the invisible cloak from Harry Potter so I could fucking disappear.

“These two will join our families together in a matrimonial bond and form a powerhouse like never before.” Tommaso’s voice booms through the cheering.

I glance up at Giovanni. His face is straining from his fake grin. Good. I’m surprised he’s showing signs of hating this too. His eyes catch mine for a moment, and there is a split second of understanding; a mutual exchange that we both try to quickly ignore. I watch him move his head swiftly back to the crowd, I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking.

“Please celebrate with me and my comrade, Joseph Mancini, the beginning of something beautiful.” Tommaso looks at me with a glint of ‘don’t fuck this up’ in his eyes before they land on his son.

Giovanni’s arm snakes around my waist and I scramble to pull my t-shirt down, but his hands are too quick, and he has grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and pulled it back down. “Don’t worry, snookums I’ve got you.”

I feel my heart slam against my chest. Fuck.

“I’ll keep your dirty little secret if you keep your end of the bargain,” he whispers in my ear before kissing me gently on the cheek. “Play your part, Principessa.”

I place my hand against his muscled chest. To the crowd, it looks as though it's endearing when in reality, I push him away from me slightly. “And what bargain is that?”

He looks down at me. “You don’t know, do you?”

“I didn’t even know this was getting announced like this. What a farce it has turned out to be,” I scoff.

“Looks like you’ll need to have a long chat with your papa.” Giovanni plants another quick kiss on my cheek before grabbing my hand and dragging me out the side door to the lobby.

I hear the laughter and cheering as we exit. “Where are you taking me?” I pull my hand out of his and stop dead in my tracks.

“Out of that circus in there. You’re welcome.” He pulls out his phone from his back pocket, shoots off a text, and looks up at me. “You’re free to go, Principessa. I’m sure you have better things to do than hang around here looking like you’re constipated.”

I glare at him. “You’re so crass.”

He jerks his necktie loose and unbuttons the collar of his shirt, letting the top of a tattoo peek through. I study him like my next still-life painting. There’s something mesmerizing and infuriatingly beautiful about him and the way he moves.

“Didn’t your papa ever teach you it’s rude to stare?” He winks at me.

“Fuck you,” I huff and storm past him. Why have I let him get under my skin? I race to the lobby doors and escape into the cold New York rain. A perfect omen to a fucked-up day. I let the cold rain drench me, soaking away the evening events when my driver pulls up.

I skip to the car, careful not to slip over in my Louboutins and jump into the back. “How did you know I was out here?” I wipe my hair from my forehead.

“Your boyfriend called me.”

On the seat next to me sits an envelope and I eye it with caution before I snatch it up like it’s about to explode. Who the hell would leave a note in my car for me? “Did you let someone place this in here?” I scoot forward and fan the envelope in front of the driver’s face.

“No, Miss Mancini. I have not left the car since I dropped you off.” He glances at the envelope and then back out to the traffic.

Weird.

My name is scrawled in beautiful handwritten cursive writing. I look at it carefully. It’s written in fucking blood. My heart drops to my stomach and I rip the envelope open to find a postcard-sized cardboard note.

In blood is written, In Death Lies Peace.

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