The Hitman's Secret

Ch. 27: Secrets

VALENTINA

Val's heart battered against her ribs as she read and reread the messages several times, half-expecting another message to come through and offer some explanation. None came.

She didn't want to believe that Matteo had lied to her when he promised that Teresa meant nothing to him. Perhaps he'd reignited their affair in the weeks that he and Val were not speaking? Could she fault him for that?

No, but that didn't dull the ache now permeating in her chest. She hurt. This hurt her.

She was a naturally jealous person, made infinitely insecure during the years spent alone in the United Kingdom. During that time, she had no one. Not really.

And, she prayed that, after years of being cast aside by her father and desperately craving love, she'd found a home in Matteo. She thought, for the first time since her mother's death, she'd become important– truly important– to someone again.

A sound came from the kitchen, and she hastily tossed his phone to the side again.

Dio, what was she going to do?

She needed to talk to Matteo. That would be the sensible thing to do.

And yet, something else tugged at the back of Val's mind. A suspicion that clawed through the hurt and jealousy fogging her mind.

La Regola was a Mazza club in the city.

Of course, as the Romano heir, she'd never ventured into the rival famiglia's elite club before. She wouldn't be welcome.

Her father's infamous hitman shouldn't have been welcome either. So why was Teresa asking him to meet her there? In their usual room, no less.

Something was wrong.

For the first time since returning from school, Val doubted Matteo. She immediately stood from the couch and collected her purse from the coffee table, rushing as quickly and quietly as possible toward the front door.

It was 10:45 in the evening. If she wanted answers, real answers, she'd have to go to La Regola herself and find Teresa. And, God, she hoped that the woman simply wanted Matteo to meet her for sex.

She could live with that betrayal, however painful it might be. If Matteo frequented the Mazza club for another, more treasonous reason... Well, that betrayal would ruin her ability to trust anyone ever again.

Val slipped out of the front door, careful to shut it silently behind her. As soon as she was outside, she ran. She wouldn't have much time.

Luckily, Matteo's family home was a block away from commercial shops. She raced down the sidewalk until the shadows of the night obscured her from view, then she slowed her steps to avoid drawing suspicion. Eventually, she reached a moderately busy street and flagged down a taxi cab. She didn't have time to call for a nicer ride.

She slipped inside the back of the taxi and breathed a sigh of relief.

"I need to get to La Regola, please. Brooklyn."

***

MATTEO

Matteo held three glasses of white wine in a precarious balancing act as he crossed from the kitchen back into the living room. The golden liquid sloshed, dangerously close to spilling over the edge.

"Alright, two regular glasses for you and me. One massive glass for my mother–" he paused as soon as he looked up and realized that Val no longer sat on the sofa.