Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Ingested? He must be mistaken. “That’s not possible. I ate the same things Valentina did. We shared the same plate, for fuck’s sake, and I feel fine. Am I angry? Yes. Furious? Fucking oath I am. But do I look like a man who was recently poisoned?”
My pulse pounds in my ears as I replay the night in my head. There were some incidents where the itch to kill trekked through my veins, but they were more jealously based than foiling an attempted murder. A handful of the serving staff were too admiring of Valentina’s curves. I took care of the main culprit, and Dante handled the rest.
Suddenly, my jealousy lifts enough for clarity to seep between the cracks. “The cake. She didn’t want to share her cake.” I whip around and lock eyes with Concetta. “Who gave her the cake?”
Her brow furrows. “What?”
“The cake, Concetta!” My roar startles the nurses behind the nurses’ desk, but I don’t have time to apologize. I’m barely holding on by a thread. “Who handed it to her?”
The crowd pressing in closer, curious to see if Concetta’s knife would touch the bottom of the cake plate, obscured my view. I remember that moment with clear precision because the guests cheered when Concetta’s knife scraped the steel, and then she tilted her head so my father could kiss her cheek. It was an innocent, playful gesture. Except it wasn’t because some fucking prick used the distraction to poison my future wife and the mother of my children.
Concetta’s lips tremble when she admits, “It was the woman I asked about earlier. Valeria.”
The name shunts me back three places, and then a memory surfaces in the ripple of my balk. There was a flash of color behind Valentina when I scanned the crowd. I wasn’t staring in admiration. It was in recognition. Valeria’s dress was the exact shade as Valentina’s. It appeared to have been made from the same roll of silk.
Fury roars through me, hot and merciless. Valeria did this. She tried to kill Valentina, and she may have succeeded with our unborn child.
Every negative thought I’ve suppressed over the past three weeks rolls through my head until there’s only one left:
Valeria tried to take Valentina from me, and now she will lose everything.
I’m already devising the worst death imaginable when Concetta ups the stakes. “My sister… she ate some of Valentina’s cake. That’s why she isn’t here. She said she wasn’t feeling well and that she needed to lie down. Your father offered her the guest room on the main floor.”
“I’ll send someone to check on her.” My promise doesn’t weaken her worry in the slightest. She’s torn, unsure if my family’s quest for revenge ranks higher than her sister’s life. It doesn’t, because anything that hurts Valentina hurts me, and my family refuses to make the mistakes of our ancestors.
I feel as conflicted as Concetta when my call to the compound’s landline goes unanswered. I try again, but each attempt achieves the same result.
That’s wrong.
That’s dangerous.
The compound never goes silent… except when we’re at war.
My heart rate spikes until the rapid incline of my pulse pounds in my ears. Bad shit is going down, and I’m miles from the action.
That would have been inconceivable only months ago.
As turmoil rages through my veins, I glance through the small window in the door of Valentina’s room. She’s swamped by a hospital bed and beeping machines because Valeria forced her into a fight she didn’t choose. Leaving her while she looks so vulnerable would feel like ripping my heart out with my bare hands. I can’t do it. I refuse.
I aim to calm the tremor in my jaw by evaluating the facts instead of letting them railroad me. My brothers most likely shut down communication within seconds of me deploying them to clean up the mess. I did the same thing before tossing Valeria at Valentina’s feet.
Without evidence, there’s no chance of conviction. My family has lived by that motto for decades.
Furthermore, only a fool would go against us now. We’re the strongest we’ve ever been. A fucking atomic bomb couldn’t take us down.
I remind myself of that on repeat while storing my phone in my pocket and walking toward Valentina’s room.
My conscience is clear. Then Concetta grips my arm like I’m the only buoy in a turbulent ocean. “Please, Giovanni…” she begs, her lips quivering. “Maria has been our rock these past few months. She held us together when everything was falling apart.”
She isn’t playing with my emotions like a fiddler does a fiddle. Valentina has mentioned numerous times that her aunt has been their only solid support throughout all this. But it doesn’t alter the facts.
“I can’t leave her.”
“I’ll stay with her. I won’t leave her side for a second.” I’m not close to siding with her until she adds, “Valentina won’t survive losing her aunt. She’ll blame herself.” She strays her watering eyes to her only child. “Just like she blames herself for my cancer diagnosis.”