by Reilly, Cora
I motioned for Enzo to take the man to the warehouse, away from prying eyes, and followed with Valentina. “So this is what you do when I’m not around? Meeting with other men?” I asked in a deadly voice.
Valentina gave me a shocked look. “No! It’s not like you think.”
“He’s been lurking around the house twice now, boss,” Enzo said, then grunted when the man’s knee hit him in the groin.
“Explain,” I snarled, my grip on Valentina’s arm tightening even further, even as she winced.
“It’s Frank.”
I relaxed my hold on Valentina. A flicker of hurt shone in her eyes.
“Antonio’s lover.”
Enzo glanced my way. He’d occasionally met Antonio.
A gunshot rang in the silence and Enzo flinched with a cry. Another bullet collided with the wall above us.
I dragged Valentina to the ground with me, shielding her with my body, my gun pointed in the direction of our attackers. Frank freed himself and ran away. I aimed at him and pulled the trigger at the same time as Valentina shoved my arm. The bullet missed its target. “Valentina!” I growled. Frank disappeared from view before I could shoot again. “What the fuck was that?”
Valentina shook her head, her skin pale. “I don’t know! I thought he was alone. Frank doesn’t even know anyone who can shoot a gun.”
“You should have let me shoot him. Never interfere like that again.”
“He’s innocent. He doesn’t deserve death.”
“Bullshit. That guy laid a trap and you fucking walked into it,” Enzo muttered.
I nodded. This hadn’t been a coincidence. My wife had walked straight into a fucking trap.
Valentina looked at me. “What do you mean?”
She managed to appear sophisticated and well-acquainted with our ways, but ultimately, Valentina knew little of the true danger of mob life. “Haven’t you wondered why he wanted to meet you? Maybe he’s been approached by the Russians and agreed to help them. They’d love to kill you.”
“Frank wouldn’t do that.”
So trusting and naïve! I wouldn’t lose Valentina. I couldn’t.
After the reinforcement arrived and took Enzo to our doctor, I took Valentina home.
“I’m really sorry,” she whispered during the ride to our mansion.
I didn’t say anything, consumed with so many conflicting emotions I had trouble keeping in check. Anger at Valentina for disobeying my command, worry over losing her, and the need to prove to myself that this woman was mine. What I’d felt when I’d seen Valentina with Frank had been more than simple possessiveness, and then the acute terror I’d felt when the bullet missed Valentina’s head by a few inches…
I didn’t want to ponder my emotions, not these emotions, and focused on my anger for my wife.
After our arrival home, I headed straight for our bedroom, needing to get my fury out of my system. “I’m really sorry,” Valentina said as we entered the room, but I had no intention of letting her off easily.
I pushed Valentina against the bedroom door, my chest pressed against her back, for once using my physical strength against my wife, rendering her motionless. My cock was already becoming hard, feeling Valentina’s sexy body against mine.
“Why do you keep disobeying me, Valentina?” I growled. I pushed her skirt up and dug my erection against her ass, showing her what she did to me. She released a shuddering breath, goosebumps rising on her skin.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice shaking.
My anger was overwhelming, only trumped by the fierce hunger consuming my very being.
“That’s the wrong answer.” I found Valentina wet when I touched her pussy and entered her with two fingers, making sure she was ready for the angry fucking that I craved. And fuck, she was. She was turned on by our fight, which angered and turned me on at the same time. Evoking conflicting emotions in me was Valentina’s specialty.
I started fucking her right against the door, not holding back. My anger ran free as I took her roughly, dominating her, not giving her a choice but to yield to my demands, and she did. Her moans spiraled out of control, her pussy slick around my cock and when she came with a cry and threw her head back, I couldn’t resist to kiss her harshly, claiming that beautiful mouth like I claimed her pussy. I kept pumping into her, overcome with hot-burning pleasure I’d never encountered before, and when I came inside of her and pressed a kiss to her neck, I wasn’t sure what I felt anymore.
My anger was the safe option, so I focused on it and ignored Valentina completely the following weeks. It was a harsh punishment, for both of us. Lying beside her at night, with her enticing scent in my nose, with the heat of her gorgeous body beside mine, not fucking her was torture.
Valentina gave me space, and for once I wished she wouldn’t, wished she would try to seduce me like she’d done in the beginning just so I could give in.
Two weeks in, I lost my battle against myself. Valentina and I had just turned off the lights and lay beside each other in bed when the throbbing desire in my cock got too much. I pushed up on my elbow. “Not a word,” I growled.
Valentina sucked in her breath as I climbed down her body, shoved down her panties and licked her slit. She arched against my mouth with a stifled moan. I fucked her with my tongue, so eager for her pussy, my cock twitched against the mattress. She came within a few minutes. I hadn’t taken my time, impatient for more. I stood and slipped down my pajama pants. “Get on your knees, Valentina.”
I heard rustling then she appeared before me and sank down. In the dark of the room, I could only make out schemes. Grabbing her neck, I guided her toward my waiting cock. I didn’t allow her to discover me like usual, not in the mood for the gentle approach tonight. Instead, I began to fuck her mouth, letting my anger fuel my moves. She gagged when I hit the back of her throat but didn’t pull back. Her occasional moan around my cock and the way she shifted restlessly told me she enjoyed it very much.
“Do not touch yourself. I’m the only one who’ll get you off,” I snarled. She shivered and I knew she’d be leaking by now. Fuck. The thought toppled me over the edge and I spilled my cum down her throat, holding her in place with a firm grip on her neck. I pulled her up to me, then rasped into her ear. “I’m still mad at you. That’s why you’ll have to go to sleep now without a second orgasm.”
She made a small sound of protest.
“Not a word, Valentina.”
“Dante—”
“No,” I growled.
I pulled up my pants and returned to bed. Valentina followed and stretched out beside me, watching me in the dark. She rubbed her legs together, obviously seeking relief and it was driving me insane, knowing how sopping wet she’d be.
Not saying a word, I parted her legs and thrust two fingers into her. Valentina clenched around me and arched up with a moan. Keeping my fingers inside her, I nicked her earlobe. “I’m too lenient with you.”
I pulled my fingers out of her, half tempted to shove them into my mouth to taste Valentina again.
“Can I taste myself?”
My cock lurched. This woman was so much more than I’d expected, so much more than I could resist.
In the following weeks, I fucked Valentina every night and engaged in polite but detached conversation, even as I craved more. I couldn’t explain the pull between us. This primal connection was new for me. It was something I might have been able to handle but the accompanying emotions for my wife caught me by surprise. I needed control, thrived on it, but around Valentina I often lost it completely.
Things in the Outfit were tense, so I couldn’t use my emotional instability in the slightest. Ever since Rocco had called me a few minutes ago to tell me Gianna had run away to escape the marriage with Matteo Vitiello, I needed a clear head more than ever. This could destroy peace with the Famiglia, could toss us right into a bloody war.
My fury threatened to spill over but when Valentina entered my office, her pale skin immediately dis
tracted me from my turmoil. She looked sick. She had been feeling off for a while now but I hadn’t really paid much attention, still determined to keep my distance. Now my worry overruled my determination.
“You look pale. Are you still not feeling well? Maybe you should talk to the doc.”
She shook her head. “No, I…” Her eyes widened and she rushed out of my office. I quickly followed her toward the guest bathroom. She hung over the toilet and quickly flushed when I stepped inside. She tried to stand but swayed, so I grabbed her arm to stop her from falling.
“Valentina?”
She stumbled toward the sink and cleaned herself. Sweat glistened on her forehead. She didn’t look well. Had my dismissal led to her weakened state?
“I’m fine.”
She was lying. I followed her upstairs to our bedroom and touched her waist. “You know I hate it when you’re keeping secrets. Don’t make it a habit.”
Valentina swallowed and pressed a palm against her belly. Everything seemed to stand still when I realized what the gesture meant, and suddenly her constant sickness made sense.
“I’m pregnant.”
Valentina waited.
My insides were a raging ocean. The small sailboat of my joy at the news was soon tossed aside by the thunderous waves of my sadness, guilt, and anger. Carla and I had been trying to become parents. It had been her greatest wish, and I had been unable to give it to her. She’d died without ever holding her child in her arms, without ever experiencing the joys of motherhood.
And Valentina was pregnant after such a short time. Without a struggle. Without heartbreak. “Pregnant?” I asked.
“Yes. We never used protection, so I don’t know why you’re acting so shocked. Wasn’t an heir one of the reasons why you married me?”
“That was the reason why my father wanted me to marry again.”
“So you don’t want kids?”
“Is it mine?” Carla had assured me that her doctor hadn’t found anything obviously wrong with her. I had never gone to a doctor myself.
Shock and acute pain crossed Valentina’s face as she backed away from me.
“Answer my question.”
“Of course, it is your child. You’re the only man I’ve ever slept with. How can you even ask such a question? How dare you?”
Carla wouldn’t have lied to me. She had no reason to. Doubt nagged at me, and that only fueled my fury further. I didn’t want to doubt my late wife. “I’m not keeping track of everything you do, and there are many men who frequent the casino that wouldn’t say no to a night with you. You’ve made a habit out of keeping things from me. Do I have to remind you of Frank?”
“How can you even say something like that? I’ve never given you any reason to doubt me like that. I’m loyal to this marriage. There’s a difference between not telling you about Frank and cheating on you.”
“My first wife and I tried for years to get pregnant. It never worked. You and I have been married for less than four months and you’re already pregnant.”
“I don’t know why you act as if that’s impossible. If your first wife was infertile, then that’s your explanation. Have you never consulted with a doctor? Or did you think it was you who was infertile?”
“We never went to a doctor to find out why we couldn’t conceive. Not that it is any of your business. I won’t discuss my first marriage with you.”
“Too bad. We’re discussing it now. I know why you didn’t want to find out. You didn’t want to know the truth, because you worried it would make you less of a man if it was your fault that your wife couldn’t get pregnant. But now we know it wasn’t your fault. It was Carla who was infertile.”
Anger surged through me. “I told you I didn’t want to talk about Carla.”
“Why not? Because you still love her? Because you can’t move on? I’m sorry you lost Carla, but I’m your wife now.”
Valentina was right. Deep down I knew I needed to stop clinging to the past, but in this moment, I couldn’t. Anger at myself bubbled up, stronger than any anger I’d ever felt toward Valentina.
“I’m so sick of you treating me like a whore. You ignore me by day and come to me at night for sex. And now you accuse me of cheating on you? Sometimes I think you hurt me on purpose to keep me at arm’s length. When will you finally move on? Your wife has been dead for four years; it’s time you stop pitying yourself and realize that life goes on. When will you stop clinging to the memory of a dead woman and realize there’s someone in your life who wants to be with you?”
I stalked toward her, furious that she threw this at me. “Don’t talk about her.”
“She’s dead and she won’t come back, Dante.”
Acute pain pierced my chest at her words, making me want to lash out at everything around me. “Stop talking about her.”
Fear flashed in Valentina’s eyes. Fear of me, her own husband, but I was unable to apologize, unable to back down.
She raised her chin. “Or what? Do you want to hit me? Go ahead. It can’t possibly be worse than the knife you thrust into my back by accusing me of carrying another man’s child.” I was a brutal man, there was no doubt about it, but hitting Valentina was the last thing I’d ever do.
“You’re so busy honoring her memory and protecting the image of her you have in your mind that you don’t realize how badly you’re treating me. You lost your first wife through no fault of your own, but you will be losing me because you can’t let go of her.”
I should have apologized, but instead I watched Valentina move out of our bedroom.
It took me weeks to ask Valentina to move back to our bedroom. An apology still didn’t pass my lips, even if it would have been the right thing to do. Valentina was pregnant with my child and I was unable to admit to my mistake, unable to beg her for forgiveness like any good husband would have done. It still hurt to think that Carla hadn’t told me the truth about her infertility. Ines had told me after I’d admitted to my argument with Valentina in a moment of weakness. Carla had worried I’d regard her as less if I found out she couldn’t become pregnant, not to mention my father’s reaction if he’d ever found out.
Despite my many faults, Valentina returned to our bedroom, fighting for our marriage, a thing I was still incapable of doing the way she deserved it. I tried to show her my willingness to do my part by removing Carla’s belongings from the old bedroom. It felt like a betrayal of her but at the same time, I could feel a weight lifting off my heart with every piece of Carla that I carried away. The past had held power over me for too long. I needed to let it go. I couldn’t lose Valentina.
Giovanni came over in the afternoon for our weekly meeting, but fifteen minutes before our agreed time. He hugged Valentina tightly, kissing her cheek, and whispered something in her ear that made her smile, which died when she looked at me.
Guilt always caught me by surprise, which it shouldn’t, since it was a common feeling around my wife lately.
With another tender look at Valentina, Giovanni finally headed my way and followed me toward the office. He had trouble keeping his excitement at bay. Once we were in the office, he gripped my hand and squeezed. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you and Val.”
I gave a terse nod. This was the reaction Valentina had expected from me. Yet, I still couldn’t show her what I felt, that I was looking forward to having a child with her.
Our child. It was a startling thought. I’d made my peace with not having children when Carla had become sick. I’d never blamed her, even when she often felt guilty for not giving me an heir like everyone expected from her. It had almost felt like another betrayal that Valentina had become pregnant so quickly. Not only did I desire Valentina, did I long for her closeness but she’d also give me what Carla couldn’t.
I tore myself out of my thoughts when I realized how worriedly Giovanni watched me. “Are you all right?”
“Of course,” I said. “Valentina and I are excited about becoming parents.”
He na
rrowed his eyes in thought. “Are you sure everything is all right? Is it about the baby? Is it a girl?”
I grimaced. “Even if it were a girl, I’d be happy. The child is fine.”
Was it? I hadn’t talked to Valentina about our child yet, had never accompanied her to the doctor. Fuck. I was a goddamn bastard.
“How about we focus on business now? Rocco will be here soon.”
Giovanni nodded slowly, but I could tell that he wasn’t happy with me. That made two of us.
I’d been buried in work all day, and yet my thoughts had revolved around Valentina. The house was silent when I returned. Maybe Valentina was over at Bibiana. Maybe she was avoiding me like I avoided her. I needed to get past my pride, past my goddamn stubbornness and talk to my wife.
I stepped into my office and tensed when I found Valentina inside. The moment she turned around to me, I knew something was very wrong.
She looked heartbroken and close to tears. My insides turned to stone. Had something happened to the baby?
Relief flooded me when she told me about seeing Antonio, about his plot to have me killed. It was astonishing how disturbing news like that was still better than the alternative: than Val telling me something had happened to our baby. I could handle traitors. I couldn’t handle losing our child.
When Valentina was done telling me about Antonio’s plan, she was crying softly, her eyes searching mine almost desperately. I wiped the tears away with my thumb.
“You know what’s strange?” she whispered thickly. “At one point, I thought I could never love someone as I loved Antonio, no matter how unrequited that love was. And today I’m condemning him to his death for another man who will never love me back.”
My hand against Valentina’s cheek stilled. I’d avoided considering the extent of my feelings for Val, preferred to shield myself from them. I’d been in love with everything Carla symbolized—piety, innocence, virtuousness, pure goodness—long before I’d loved her. Love had come over time and then it had burned so fiercely that it had almost incinerated me when it had been ripped from me. I never wanted to be caught up in something as destructive as love again. That showed my arrogance: thinking I was above the strongest human emotion, that I could decide not to love ever again.