The Hitman's Mark

26. Reunions

VALENTINA

Val stared at her reflection and tugged at the skin-tight, midnight silk that hugged her hips. The dress was a bit too snug for her liking, but she didn't have time to find a new dress after the attack at A&C Couture. She found this spare in her mother's closet.

She sighed, bent over to readjust her chest in the strapless gown one last time, and exited her bedroom. The McLeod's Black and White gala started in an hour, and she knew her father would want to arrive on time to begin schmoozing Henry McLeod. They needed Henry to recognize the importance of an alliance with the Romano, even an alliance no longer secured by an engagement between Val and Ezra.

Val reached the top of the stairs and gathered the floor-length dress in one hand as she slowly began the descent. She kept her eyes on her feet, calculating her steps in the ungodly-tall heels. With her recent luck, she'd likely trip and break her neck.

From the corner of her eye, Val saw movement at the bottom of the stairs. She figured it was Luca, who'd become her constant shadow over the past few days, or her Uncle Adriano, waiting to guide her to their limousines for the evening. The figure, however, cleared his throat, breaking Val's concentration. She looked up from the stairs and paused as she beheld the man waiting for her in the foyer.

"Matteo?" His name left her lips as a question. He looked unfathomably handsome in a simple black suit.

She hadn't seen the hitman since visiting Adele Costa's home two days prior. According to small reports from Lara, he had improved every day, but Val hadn't spoken to Matteo herself in the time that passed. She didn't think he wanted her to reach out again, especially after their tense conversation in his bedroom.

Val knew she pushed him too far. She'd seen his patience wearing in his eyes, but she was desperate for answers. Desperate to know why he kept her an arms length away. Desperate to understand why he chose to be alone.

Then he snapped, stunning Val with the harsh reality of his words. Throughout their time together, she hadn't once stopped to consider their opposing stations in the famiglia.
As the daughter of a don, their world lifted Val on a pedestal, destined to marry a man from a great family in the Cosa Nostra for political benefits. As a soldier, Matteo could only rise so far. They walked in different circles, only intersecting as bodyguard and princess.

And, like a fool, she'd never considered how that might impact him. For all women of high-birth in the Cosa Nostra, very little determined their worth beyond their virtue. If Val's father discovered that she'd so much as kissed a man while away at Oxford, he'd be furious. She'd avoided any serious relationships throughout her life for that reason. Leonardo would undoubtedly punish her, but he would kill the poor soul who dared to defile her. And, if he discovered that Matteo, his own soldier, had broken his oath and pursued her, Val knew that there would be nothing left of the hitman.

Selfishly, she'd flirted with him, anyway. She'd wanted him to touch her, to ruin her, only focusing on her own desires. Matteo was right to push her away.

"You're here," she murmured, recovering enough to take another small step down the stairs. "How are you feeling? Your shoulder and back?"

"Much better," he answered, shifting his massive shoulders beneath his jacket as if to prove his point.

Val narrowed her eyes, searching for any sign of pain on his face. If Matteo still felt discomfort, however, he concealed it well. "So my father is letting you return to work, then?" she wondered, cocking a brow.

"He would've liked for me to rest another day or two." He released a small huff of amusement. Val wasn't surprised. Her father wanted to protect his strongest asset, after all. "But I convinced him that we'd need top security."