The Hitman's Secret

Ch. 7: Battles

MATTEO

Matteo didn't know what to expect when he barged into the training center, but it certainly wasn't the principessa standing mere inches away from Sebastian Allesi.

The two nearly touched, Bastian's front to Val's back, as if, just moments before, they'd been pressed tantalizingly close to one another. She hastily took another step forward, and Matteo swore he saw her cheeks flush red, reminiscent of two teenagers caught playing seven minutes in heaven.

Matteo paused in the doorway, his feet unwilling to move despite the disbelief and anger churning through his body.

He'd thought he couldn't feel more angry than when Adriano told him that his wife's cell phone tracked to the soldati training warehouse, since Matteo had immediately known that Val must've been the one to take Elisa there. He thought he'd be able to control the frustration flaring hot in his veins– the urge to berate the principessa for her empty promise to refrain from visiting the warehouse until he returned.

He was wrong. So fucking wrong.

Their plane had just landed in New York, and, minutes into their drive back to Scarsdale, Adriano froze. Apparently, the sottocapo had been checking Elisa's cellphone's location throughout the entirety of their trip to Chicago.

That afternoon, for the first time in days, it showed that she'd left the Romano mansion.

Not only had she left home, but Adriano tracked her to the obscure training warehouse only frequented by the Romano soldati. When she failed to answer her phone three times in a row, he commanded Matteo to drive as fast as he could to the warehouse.

Adriano must've feared the worst. He must've worried that the Romano soldiers stole her away because of her Russo blood and her father's crimes. Still, Matteo didn't betray Val by disclosing to her uncle that Elisa was likely with her. Instead, he'd kept his mouth shut and drove to the warehouse with a vice-like grip on the steering wheel, going over and over how he'd like to punish Val's recklessness in his head.

And yet, when the warehouse doors flung open and his eyes landed on Valentina in the aftermath of Bastian's embrace, every thought vanished from his mind.

He stopped in his tracks. Red clouded the edges of his vision, and his hands curled into fists. His vision centered on Bastian and the shit-eating grin that now curled on his lips, and Matteo hated the strange sensation that raked its claws through his chest, cutting deep and resonating in the pit of his stomach.

"What the fuck is Val doing here, too?" Adriano growled, his shoulder colliding with Matteo's as he stalked toward the shooting range.

Matteo blinked, pulling himself out of his damning spiral. The blood pounded in his ears as he slowly followed after the sottocapo. Every gaze in the room followed Matteo and Adriano as they crossed the training center, but his eyes never left the girl who'd so effortlessly slipped beneath his skin and became his ruin.

Val held her chin high. First, she regarded Adriano. Then, she directed her attention to Matteo, and the whites of her eyes expanded in the slightest, betraying her unease. That's right, he wanted to say. Your uncle isn't the one you should be worried about, principessa.

She immediately looked away, returning her focus to Adriano, who'd nearly reached the shooting range now.

Behind Val, Bastian stood firm with his arms crossed against his chest, radiating calm arrogance despite the underboss that approached with violence in his eyes. Luca, on the other hand, had the common sense to look worried. And poor little Elisa practically trembled from where she stood by the bench.