Matteo.
The safe house was quiet, save for the faint him of the refrigerator and the occasional shuffle of boots from one of the men stationed outside.
Valentina had gone to bed hours ago, though I doubted she was sleeping. The past week had been brutal on both of us. The fire, Reed’s death, and now the knowledge that Luca had taken Isabella to goodness knows where… they were out there, somewhere, likely plotting his next move.
I still didn’t trust Isabella… but Valentina did, and I trusted her judgement.
I poured another glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the dim light as I swirled it around the glass. The laptop on the table in front of me glowed softly, displaying the results of my latest search.
Lorenzo Giordano.
The name had been haunting me for days. Richard had lied to me using the name after giving it to me under duress… should I even call it that? Ambushed me, almost killed Valentina…
I almost let him go so I could focus on just Valentina and finding Luca, but after finding a gem on the Internet. A simple interview between my mom and the guy… Lorenzo Giordano. He had his arm slung around her, both of them laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world.
Who was he to her?
A lover? A friend? A ghost from a past I’d never been privy to?
The interview hadn’t offered much apart from the fact that he was her client for that day.
I clenched my jaw, taking a long sip of whiskey. I’d bribed and bullied my way into an exclusive party tonight, a place where I was almost certain I’d find him. He’d gone underground years ago, slipping off the radar of even the most resourceful informants. But tonight, he’d surface, and I’d be there to meet him.
There was only one problem.
Valentina.
Not that she was a problem problem… but she had been glued to my side since we left the estate, her silent grief over Reed’s death palpable in every guarded look and clipped response. I didn’t trust anyone else to watch her, not with Luca and Isabella still unaccounted for.
Many would ask why I hadn’t killed Luca yet, or at least destroy him to the best of my ability. It was kind of hard to do when any harm to the asshole would lead to the Nevarro legacy taken from me.
Brothers don’t kill brothers.
At least, not openly.
So that meant taking Valentina with me, even though the idea made my stomach churn.
I pushed back from the table, running a hand through my hair. She wouldn’t like it, but she didn’t have a choice.
***
“Get dressed.”
Valentina blinked at me from the couch, her eyes narrowing as she folded her arms across her chest. “Excuse you?”
I tossed a sleek black dress onto the armrest. “We’re going out. You have ten minutes.”
Her glare could’ve burned a hole through me. “Out where?”
“It’s a lead,” I said simply, grabbing my jacket. “That’s all you need to know for now.”
She didn’t move, her gaze sharp enough to cut glass. “You’re joking. You want me to walk into God-knows-what blind? Again?”
“I’ll explain later,” I snapped, my patience already wearing thin. “Right now, you need to trust me.”
She let out a bitter laugh, but to my surprise, she grabbed the dress and stormed toward the bathroom.
“Fine,” she called over her shoulder. “But if this ends with me shot at or kidnapped, I’m holding you personally responsible.”
That she could do.
The party was held in a sprawling villa perched on a cliffside, the sound of waves crashing against the rocks below mingling with the low hum of music and laughter. We walked through the gates like we belonged there, though the security detail gave me a second glance before letting us pass.
Incompetent.
Valentina stayed close to me, her hand brushing against mine as we navigated the crowd. She was a vision in that dress. Curves just begging for me to run my hands on them… touch them until she was whimpering beneath me.
I wanted to gently tug on that lush pink lip with my teeth. Kiss her rough enough to bruise with my fingers inside her…
No.
As much as I wanted to claim her… make her mine again, I couldn’t focus on that now. Not when I knew she wasn’t ready for me again.
And after all I did, I wasn’t sure I would let me in if I was her.
My eyes scanned the room instead, searching for Lorenzo.
And then I saw him.
Lorenzo Giordano stood near the bar, a glass of champagne in hand, his sharp features illuminated by the soft glow of the chandeliers. He was older now, his hair streaked with silver, but there was no mistaking him.
I moved toward him, Valentina at my side.
“Lorenzo.”
He turned, his piercing eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, he looked amused. Then his brow furrowed, and his lips curled into a faint smirk.
“I don’t remember inviting you,” he said, his voice smooth, measured.
“That’s because you didn’t,” I replied, my tone matching his. “I invited myself.”
His eyes flicked to Valentina, then back to me. “Bold. I haven’t decided if I like that or hate it yet.”
“Take your time,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Interesting. And who’s this?”
I stiffened as his eyes settled on Valentina. She met his eyes without flinching, her chin lifting ever so slightly.
“Valentina Russo,” she said in a calm but firm voice.
Valentina Russo… not Valentina Nevarro. I guess I forgot the part where I hadn’t actually gotten married to her.
Damn. I was such a fool.
Lorenzo’s smirk widened. “Ah. A fiery one. I like that.”
I stepped slightly in front of her, my jaw tightening. “She’s with me.”
“Obviously,” he said with a chuckle. “Relax, Matteo. I’m not here to steal your woman. Not yet, anyway.”
The tension between us crackled like a live wire.
“Shall we?” Lorenzo gestured toward a set of double doors leading out to a balcony. “I think this conversation deserves a better view.”
I exchanged a quick glance with Valentina before nodding.
“Lead the way.”
As Lorenzo turned and walked toward the balcony, I placed a hand on Valentina’s back, guiding her forward.
“Stay close,” I murmured.
Her eyes flicked to mine, a mix of confusion and concern in their depths. “What’s going on, Matteo?”
“Not now,” I said, my voice low. “I’ll tell you everything later.”
She hesitated but nodded, her trust in me… for now… unchanged.
The doors swung open, revealing a breathtaking view of the moonlit ocean. Lorenzo poured three glasses of wine from a nearby table, handing one to each of us.
“To unexpected guests,” he said, raising his glass.
I clinked mine against his, the weight of the moment settling heavily on my shoulders.
This was it. The beginning of something that could unravel everything I thought I knew.
But first, I needed answers.
And Lorenzo Giordano was the key.