Valentina.
“Russos don’t cook. We have enough servants for that.” Mom’s voice filtered through my shields and stood at the forefront of my brain.
The savoury smell of fresh garlic and onion greeted me as I stepped into the kitchen. The sound of sizzling pans filled the space, and I paused, watching the woman at the stove, stirring something with practised ease.
I’d come down for some air, maybe a cup of water, but seeing her there made me pause.
Ethan’s wife.
She glanced up, her soft green eyes meeting mine, and offered me a warm smile. “Look who finally came down. Valentina, right?”
I nodded, stepping further into the kitchen. “That’s me.”
“Would you like some wine?” Valerie asked, motioning to the open bottle of red on the counter. “I’m just making dinner, but it always helps me when I cook.”
I hesitated. “I didn’t mean to intrude…”
“Oh, you’re not intruding at all. Ethan’s not home yet, and I love company while I cook.” She gestured around the kitchen. “Except little baby Ryan. Please sit.”
Valerie had an easy warmth about her, the kind that made you feel comfortable instantly. Little baby Ryan was also asleep in his baby cradle.
Their presence was a stark contrast to the tense, cold atmosphere that usually surrounded Matteo.
I moved to the table and sat down as she poured me a glass of wine, then handed it to me.
“Thank you.” I said, taking a sip.
“No problem,” She returned to the stove, stirring the pot again. “I was making one of Ethan’s favourites. Chicken marsala. He’s picky about his food.”
I laughed softly. “I can imagine. Matteo’s the same.”
The few times we’ve had dinner, I noticed just how much he removed some things from his plates.
“Men like them usually are,” she said with a playful grin.
I watched as she moved around the kitchen with grace. It was clear that this part of any house was her second home.
“How long have you and Ethan been married?” I asked, wanting to ease into conversation.
Valerie’s face softened at the mention of her husband. “It’ll be three years next month.”
“Wow.” I murmured, genuinely impressed.
It wasn’t rare to find marriages longer than that in our world, but one that was a true love match?
Rare.
“I met him when I was working for Matteo, actually,” Valerie said, her voice a little quieter now, as though she was recalling a fond memory. “I was part of the Nevarro gang.”
She didn’t look like someone who had been in the mafia.
I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yeah. I led some raiding myself, did the occasional trades,” She whisked something in a bowl. “Then Ethan came, told him he liked me, Matteo settled on a date and got us together…”
And the rest is history.
Who knew Matteo was such a wingman?
“I never would have seen Matteo as someone ready to help two people get together.” I admitted, leaning forward a bit.
Valerie laughed at that, the sound light and contagious. “He’s not. But Ethan can be a pest when he wants to be.”
I smiled at the glow that surfaced on her skin as she thought about her husband.
“It wasn’t easy, though,” Valerie continued, her tone becoming more serious. “We fought. We thought we weren’t compatible. Matteo hated both of us together, said it complicated things.”
That sounded more like the Matteo I knew. The one who would think love would complicate ‘things.’
“How did you deal with it?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. “Working for Matteo and being with Ethan?”
Valerie paused, glancing over at me before turning back to the stove. “It wasn’t easy. There were times when I felt like I was walking on eggshells, especially when Matteo was in a bad mood. But… Ethan made it worth it. He always made me feel safe, even when things got messy.”
Messy.
That was one way to describe life in the mafia.
“You worked for Matteo for two years?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation light but feeling a strange tension in my gut.
“Yeah,” she confirmed, turning off the stove and wiping her hands on a towel. “It was intense. I saw a lot of things that most people wouldn’t believe, but I learned how to navigate it. You have to if you want to survive in this world.”
I nodded, understanding all too well what she meant.
I was learning that myself, little by little, though it often felt like I was drowning in the deep end. “Do you miss it?”
Valerie shrugged, walking over to the table and sitting across from me with her own glass of wine. “Not really. I love my life with Ethan now. It’s quieter, safer… at least, most of the time. But I do think about those days, sometimes. They were… complicated.”
“Complicated how?”
Valerie hesitated, sipping her wine before answering. “There were always secrets, always things you weren’t supposed to ask about. Matteo kept a lot to himself, even from Ethan. I think that’s just how he is – he doesn’t trust easily.”
That wasn’t exactly news to me.
We had gotten to some sort of alliance, and he told me some secrets, but Matteo’s walls were as high as ever. But I kept my own secrets, so I guessed we were the same.
“And you?” Valerie asked, her amber eyes warm and curious. “How are you holding up with Matteo?”
I swallowed hard, unsure of how much to reveal. Valerie seemed kind. Trustworthy even, but I didn’t know her.
“It’s… complicated.” I admitted, echoing her words.
She smiled knowingly. “I bet. Matteo can be… difficult. But he’s a good man. I know he cares about you.”
Not love.
Care.
I wondered if she knew anything about Isabella.
Before I could ask her anything, I heard voices coming from the hallway. Ethan and Matteo.
Talking in low tones, their words muffled, but the tension in the air was unmistakable. I glanced toward the door, my stomach tightening.
Valerie noticed my shift in attention and gave me a small smile. “Sounds like they’re back.”
I nodded, standing up from the table. “I should probably go see what’s going on.”
Valerie nodded, her expression understanding. “Good luck.”
I offered her a small, grateful smile before walking toward the hallway, the voices growing clearer as I approached. Matteo’s deep, commanding tone was unmistakable.
“…can’t keep hiding this from her,” Ethan was saying. “She deserves to know this so called consequences.”
“She doesn’t need to know anything,” Matteo snapped. “I’ll handle it.”
Handle what?
“Matteo, this isn’t just about you anymore. It never was from the start,” Ethan argued his point. “She’s a part of this, and might have valuable information…”
“I said I’ll handle it,” Matteo repeated, his voice low and dangerous.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
Stepping into the view, I crossed my arms and looked directly at Matteo. “Handle what?”
“Handle him losing the Mafia Don title because he married you.”