Protecting What's Mine

by Jennifer Sucevic

  The Valentini family?

  I shake my head.

  The name means nothing to me.

  “Should I?”

  “They run the city. They have their hands in all of the politician’s pockets. There’s even talk that they own the police, which explains why they’re never brought up on charges. Everything they’re investigated for seems to roll off their backs. I’ve heard some of the lawyers at work talk about it. These aren’t people you should be involved with.”

  Frustrated and confused, I ask, “What does that mean? How does one family wield that kind of power?” It sounds ludicrous. She sounds ludicrous. I want to laugh and roll my eyes, but I can tell by her frightened expression that she’s serious. She wholeheartedly believes what she’s saying.

  Eyes wide, she mouths the words, “They’re mafia.”

  Unable to control myself after hearing that crazy reply, I laugh until tears leak from the corners of my eyes. Out of the two of us, Chloe has always had the more vivid imagination. I think it’s completely run away from her this time.

  Mafia.

  Give me a break.

  The man isn’t a criminal. He’s a businessman. A restaurateur.

  When I’m calm enough to string words together again, I say, “Come on, Chloe. Matteo owns a few businesses. Restaurants. A club. Real estate. Just because he’s Italian doesn’t mean his family is involved with anything illegal or are part of some underground crime organization.” Rolling my eyes, I add, “You sounds ridiculous.”

  Undaunted by my skepticism, Chloe places her hand over mine. I wince as her fingers bite into my flesh. “Grace, please, you need to be careful. That’s all I’m saying.” Her eyes search mine. “Why didn’t you mention that you were seeing him?” She shakes her head. “When did this even start?”

  “It’s a recent development,” I say evasively. “I didn’t mention anything because it wasn’t serious.”

  Concern shines from her wide green gaze. It pricks something deep inside me. “But it’s getting serious?”

  I shrug, unsure of how much to reveal. “I don’t know. We spent the weekend together.”

  Her eyes widen as if something has just clicked in her brain. “Oh my God, he’s the one you slept with two weeks ago!” She whisper-yells the words.

  Heat floods my cheeks as I glance around the diner. Thankfully no one is paying us any attention. “Shhh! You don’t have to yell it!”

  “It was him, wasn’t it?”

  I still don’t understand why this is a big deal. It sounds like Chloe has been listening to idle gossip. “Yes, okay? It was him.”

  She’s silent for a beat, as though she’s piecing everything together in her head. “So, you slept with Matteo on Friday, and then, during the week, Dominic told you that he has feelings for you and wants to explore a relationship. A few days later, you end up spending the weekend with Matteo. Do I have it right?”

  If my face weren’t beet red before, it is now.

  That sounds so bad.

  Chloe murmurs, “Look, I’m not judging you.” She snorts at that idea. “I’m the last person to judge anyone. I thought you were contemplating a relationship with Dominic.” Chloe looks as confused as I feel. Before this weekend with Matteo, I did give serious consideration to the idea. “What happened to that?”

  Glancing away, I look out the window, watching as people walk by while gathering my thoughts. “I love Dominic. He will always be my family, but I don’t have romantic feelings for him. They’re just not there.”

  “Does he know how you feel? Have you told him about Matteo?”

  I shake my head. “No. I haven’t discussed any of this with him. When Matteo and I first slept together, I assumed it would be a one-time thing. I never dreamed it would turn into something more. That’s why I didn’t bother mentioning it.”

  “I don’t even know where you would meet a man like him.” Her brows furrow. “Was it at Covet? Is that where it happened?” She sounds upset, as if this predicament might inadvertently be her fault.

  I shake my head. “No.” I don’t tell her about the times I ran into him there. “He lives next door.”

  Her eyes bulge from their sockets as her voice rises a decibel. “Matteo Valentini is your neighbor?”

  “Yes.” I take a sip of my Diet Coke before continuing. “We ran into each other a few times around the building. One thing led to another.”

  She looks incredulous. “You never said anything!”

  I shrug. “I didn’t know his last name, Chloe. I didn’t think you would know him.” And I definitely didn’t expect her to flip out like this either.

  “I don’t know. I… I just wish I’d been able to warn you sooner. Maybe then…” Biting her lip, she glances away and asks, “Do you like him, Grace? Is this serious?”

  Sidestepping the question, I say instead, “It’s too early to tell.” Wanting her to understand, I add, “I just know that being with him feels good. For the first time in two years, I feel alive again.”

  My words have the intended effect. Her eyes are still filled with concern, but they soften. “I just wish you were with someone…” She pauses, trying to choose her words more carefully. “I wish you were involved with someone… safer.”

  I laugh. “Matteo is perfectly safe.”

  I feel secure and protected when I’m with him. He doesn’t feel dangerous to me. Powerful, yes. Commanding, for sure. But I don’t think he would ever hurt me.

  Continuing to chew her lower lip, she says, “Sometimes I see him at the club. He makes me nervous. I don’t like the idea of you being with him. You’ve been so insulated and now you’re seeing a mob boss?” She shakes her head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  I sigh. “I am not seeing a mob boss.” That sounds preposterous. “I think you’ve heard too many rumors. Plus, how dangerous can he be if you work for him?”

  “I don’t have anything to do with the man! He hasn’t said two words to me. I think he’s at the club during the day. When I’m there, I just do what I’m paid to, which is dance. That’s it. The money is good, and I’m not doing anything wrong. I keep my nose clean, and I mind my own business.” She gives me a sharp look and adds, “And I sure as hell don’t ask questions.”

  A shiver scuttles down my spine. Matteo’s reluctance to answer the most innocuous of questions comes to mind out of nowhere.

  “Just promise me that you’ll be careful, okay?”

  I give her a reassuring smile. “There’s no reason for me to be careful. Whatever you’ve heard about Matteo and his family are nothing more than lies.” They have to be.

  Her gaze skitters away from mine. “I don’t think so, Grace.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I don’t tell Matteo about the ridiculous gossip Chloe has brought to my attention. I’m not trying to bury my head in the sand, but I think Chloe has watched The Godfather one too many times. Or maybe she’s read too many mafia novels with far-fetched plotlines.

  I’ve toyed with asking him the questions buzzing around in my brain, but I haven’t seen much of Matteo since last weekend. I’ve been overloaded with coursework and volunteering. And Matteo isn’t home during the day or evenings. His hands are full with the restaurants.

  And Covet.

  The only real time we spend together is when he slips into my bed around two in the morning. Waking up with him next to me is the best feeling in the world. And the way it feels when he’s buried deep inside my body is even better. When we come together, the chemistry that flares to life between us is undeniable.

  Without tangible evidence regarding the concerns Chloe voiced, I can’t confront Matteo. He’s finally starting to open up to me. I can’t fling far-fetched accusations at him about his family. That will only shut him down.

  I need someone else’s opinion on the matter. Which is why I ask Jonathan to take a walk when we have a much needed fifteen-minute break between tours.

  Jonathan and I have become fast friends over the pas
t few weeks. Right from the start, it felt as if I’d known him for years. Which is unusual for me since I don’t normally click with people so quickly.

  He invited me to his house to meet Jamie, whom I adore. The two of them are so good together. Jamie is quieter and more reserved, but warm and caring. He allows Jonathan to soak up all the attention while watching from the sidelines. They balance each another out perfectly, and I love spending time with them.

  As busy as life is, I still lie awake at night thinking about what Chloe divulged. I listen to the sound of Matteo breathing next to me, asking myself if any of the allegations could be true. I’ve done a few internet searches, but found nothing damning. Just innuendo. Gossip. Mostly the same rumors Chloe brought to my attention in the first place. It does nothing to lend credence to all the speculation. Which means I’m in the same place as before.

  “What did you want to talk about, doll face?”

  I smile at the term of endearment as Jonathan slings a wiry arm around my waist and tugs me closer. The wind whips off the lake, blowing over us.

  Stalling, I ask teasingly, “How do you know that I want to talk? Maybe I just wanted to spend a little time alone with you.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Undoubtedly. But I can tell there’s something on your mind. You’ve been a bit preoccupied lately.”

  Pushing away, I search his face. “You could really tell?”

  His normally humor-filled eyes brim with concern. “I see it because I know you.”

  I nibble at my lower lip. I love volunteering at the museum, and I love leading guided tours. It bothers me that I haven’t been giving one hundred percent to the people who come in to learn more about the art currently on display. I don’t want to appear unprofessional by allowing my personal life to interfere with my professional one.

  Jonathan tugs me back into the warm comfort of his arms. Because we’ve gotten to be so close, he knows what I’m thinking.

  “No one else has noticed. Don’t give it a second thought. Now tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. We’ve got roughly ten minutes until we need to head back inside for our next tours. So spill. Tell Uncle Johnny all about what’s bothering you.”

  I laugh. “Uncle Johnny? That makes you sound like a pedophile.”

  He sighs dramatically. “Come on. Tick-tock. I’ll need at least ten minutes to give you my best armchair analysis of the situation.”

  He’s right. I’m procrastinating. Maybe I don’t want to give voice to the ugly whispers that have been filling my head. Maybe I’m afraid that Jonathan will confirm everything Chloe said. If that ends up happening, I’ll have no choice but to pop the bubble Matteo and I are living in by bringing it up to him.

  I hedge, “You know the man I’ve been seeing…”

  “Umm-hmm.” He drawls out the sound.

  “I told you that his name was Matteo.” I pause for a moment as my heart pounds. “Matteo Valentini.”

  Jonathan doesn’t say a word, but every muscle in his body goes whipcord tight. A deafening silence fills the void between us. I realize that what I’ve refused to believe- all the rumors, the online innuendo- is true. Matteo isn’t simply a restaurateur and nightclub owner. Or someone who owns commercial real estate.

  We keep walking, but Jonathan’s body remains stiff. The longer the uncomfortable silence stretches between us, the more I panic.

  “Jonathan,” I whisper, “say something.”

  He stops and turns to me. His face has lost most of its color. “I didn’t realize that’s who he was.” Heaving a breath, he mutters to himself, “I should have.”

  Though I dismissed Chloe when she voiced her concerns the other day, it’s more difficult to do after a second person reacts similarly. “My friend thinks that his family is part of the mafia.”

  He laughs, but there’s no humor in the sound. Which is odd because Jonathan is always laughing. Always happy. Always cracking jokes. The man doesn’t have a serious bone in his body. It’s one of the reasons I love being around him. His humor is infectious. He has the rare ability to make the dourest person smile. The fact that his normal, sunny disposition has fled is telling.

  It frightens me more than I want to admit.

  “Oh honey, his family isn’t just part of the mafia. They are the mafia.”

  A chill of unease slithers down my spine at the seriousness of his tone.

  Looking concerned, he shakes his head. “What the hell have you gotten yourself involved in?”

  That question hits me like a punch to the stomach. This situation is much worse than what I allowed myself to believe.

  “I don’t know,” I finally whisper. “I didn’t have a clue as to who he was.”

  “How could you not know?”

  Breathing through waves of nausea, I shake my head. “I haven’t lived in Chicago for a long time. Matteo is my next-door neighbor. I ran into him a couple of times and then we started…”

  His solemn expression transforms into a smirk. “Yes, I can just imagine what you two started doing. The man is completely gorgeous.” Sounding more flippant, he adds, “Hell, knowing who he is, I would still sleep with him.”

  Those words break the thick, stifling tension that had fallen over us with the mere mention of Matteo Valentini.

  Feeling torn, I ask, “What should I do?”

  He looks sympathetic. “I don’t know what to tell you, doll face. This is unchartered territory.”

  “Do you think I should talk to him?”

  Jonathan squares his shoulders. “All right, by my estimation of the situation, you have three options.”

  I nod, feeling better that he’s taking control and giving me some much-needed advice.

  “Option number one is that you end it and walk away.” His blue-green gaze turns solemn. “And you don’t say one damn word about anything you heard.”

  Knowing everything I do, that’s exactly what my next move should be. Why would I knowingly want to get involved with someone who has a notorious reputation and a shady past attached to him?

  So why does the thought of breaking things off with Matteo make my heart ache?

  “Option two is that you let the relationship run its course. I mean, how long will this thing between you two really last? A few weeks? A month or two?” He looks thoughtful. “I don’t remember ever hearing of him being involved in a relationship before.”

  Chewing the inside of my cheek, I contemplate the merits of that choice. Can I feign ignorance for as long as it takes? Is it possible to screw Matteo out of my system? Or will I only grow to care about him more?

  “Option three is that you talk to him. But only do that if you’ve lost your ever-loving mind and truly believe you two have a future together.”

  An arrow of dread pierces me at the idea of discussing these rumors with him.

  We fall silent, both lost in our own private thoughts.

  “No matter what you decide, you need to be careful. The Valentinis are a powerful family. No one knows for sure what they’re involved in because nothing is ever publicly discussed. There are no loose ends to tie up,” he raises his eyebrows, “if you catch my drift. It’s all speculation and conjecture. Everyone in this city knows not to cross them, including the police and the DA’s office. Nothing touches them, Grace. Do you know how powerful you need to be for your name to carry that kind of clout?”

  Everything he says swirls around in my head. Jonathan is right. The Valentinis must be extremely influential to wield that kind of power.

  Pulling me in for a hug, he whispers, “Is Valentini having you followed?”

  Brows jerking together, I pull away. “No.” I try to swallow down the rising paranoia. “I… well, I don’t think so.” Panic laces my voice as it continues to rise. “Why?”

  He jerks his chin to the right. “You see that guy over there? He was inside the museum earlier today. He trailed behind our group at a discreet distance. I figured he was a cheapskate and didn’t want to pay for the tour
. But then, when we came outside, he followed. Now he’s sitting where he can keep an eye on us. I’m willing to bet that when we head inside, he’ll end up there as well.”

  I glance toward the parking lot. Sure enough, there’s a man sitting on one of the benches. He’s not turned directly toward us, more to the side as if he’s looking at the Art Institute, but we’re in his line of sight. I want nothing more than to discredit Jonathan’s wild claims, but...

  I think he’s right. I think that man is following me.

  And the only logical explanation is that he works for Matteo.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The rest of the afternoon creeps by. All Jonathan has done is reconfirm Chloe’s concerns. I’d hope to dismiss these rumors as nothing more than outlandish gossip but now that I’ve heard a nearly identical story from a different source, how can I?

  I can’t.

  The thought of Matteo having me followed makes goose bumps rise across my arms.

  As much as I want to dismiss everything I’ve heard from my friends, I can’t. Matteo is a Valentini. Enough insinuations have been made for me to question whether Matteo is someone I should allow into my life.

  Jonathan is right. There are three options for me to consider.

  I end things between us.

  I ride this out and enjoy the sex until we part ways.

  Or I tell him what I’ve heard and pray he’ll be honest with me.

  All the times I’ve tried asking questions flood through my mind. Matteo has never been forthcoming with personal information. Getting him to share anything is like trying to squeeze blood from a turnip. If I’d been smart, I would have listened to my instincts and questioned why he was so tight-lipped. Instead, I let it go, thinking that he would open up when he was ready.

  The real question is, can I continue to be with someone, continue having sex with him, if I can’t trust him?

  I don’t think I can.

  Not even for a short period of time. If Matteo and I are going to be together-really be together-he needs to be honest with me.

  For the first time since I’ve begun volunteering at the Art Institute, I’m relieved when the day ends. I need to go home and think. I need to figure out how to approach Matteo. Right before I leave, Jonathan wraps me up in his arms and tells me to take care. Those words take on more meaning than ever before.