Valentine pulls back, his blue eyes full of a need that mirrors my own, making him look angry. “Matty will deal with our wife’s greedy pussy while we finish here.”
“I’m good with that,” I interrupt, earning more growls from the twins.
Valentine’s incredulous look twists into a filthy smile when my words register, making both Dante and I laugh. Wrong place and time to be giggling with my Alphas in the middle of a massacre, but this thing of ours? It’s ours.
Dipping down, Valentine snaps his teeth over the spot his bite will sit before walking back. Matteo stands next to Valentine but keeps the barrel of his gun pressed against his father’s head.
Valentine twists the ring on his finger—his wedding band—before he addresses our guests again. “The De Lucas have risen.”
The room erupts into celebration.
Most of it is real, but I notice those in the room who are obviously faking.
My husband puts the fear in those fake-ass rats with a viciously cold look and a handful of words. “There will be no period of mourning for the fall of Gambrillo. And our first task is dealing with the murder of our parents. My pack has elected to give those involved a grace period of twenty-four hours for you to get your affairs in order. We offer a swift death to any person who surrenders. If you choose not to surrender, say your goodbyes, because we have a list of those who were involved. If you take the coward's way out, do so knowing we will take our revenge on whoever we choose in your family.”
Valentine grabs a napkin from the table where we were sitting and wipes his hand. Once he’s slightly cleaner, he waves at the guards waiting at the entrance doors. They disappear for a few moments, returning with a very worse for wear Diego and Rosa.
It would take too long to list their injuries, but it’s clear to see my pack stayed true to their heritage in how they delivered their revenge on their enemies. Valentine and Matteo swing chairs around for them, next to Vitale.
There’s no real need for either of them to be restrained so they don’t escape; honestly, I think Rosa is nearly dead. Leon uses the rope to tie them, so they don’t fall to the floor.
Valentine dumps a glass of water over Diego’s head to wake him up, and it works, but he’s disorientated. He’s also got bloody stubs for hands now.
“Diego has been harboring relations with the Petrov Bratva, which is shameful in itself. But Diego sealed his seat at my fucking table today when he arranged for my wife to be taken. And that shit does not fly with me. You so much as look at my wife wrong, and I will gut you. Rosa is sitting up here for that very reason.” Valentine holds the audience captive with hiscallous energy, and then his gaze flashes toward me before he fires shot after shot after shot into Rosa’s stomach, doing what he promised he would do.
Vitale and Diego cower when Valentine walks to stand behind them, but he’s not finished dealing with Rosa. He nabs a fistful of her hair and drags her, chair and all, past people sitting, down to a side door that Legos opens for Valentine to chuck her out like the trash she is.
Snatching another napkin from a table as he walks back, he wipes his hands of her. He looks at me, his blue eyes dark and intimidating, like the depths of the ocean, as he makes his way toward me. Except, he diverts at the last moment, as if he forgot something, but I saw the malicious smile on his lips and the flicker of movement in his eyes. When he stops beside Claudia, I’m not surprised.
“You show up wearing a blue dress? At my wife’s wedding dinner?” Valentine shakes his head in disbelief.
She stands up, smiling. I can’t hear her excuses, but I see her lack of remorse as she tries to pass him a small gift bag from Belmondo. He takes a step away, but she follows, reaching out to touch him.
And my husband's patience snaps. He slaps her hand away, and she reacts theatrically, pretending he pushed her. There are loud, ugly groans from those closest, but Claudia ignores the warnings of everyone around her. She keeps up the act, reaching for him, but Valentine growls at her to stand, using the might of his Alpha. I can feel the press of his bark from here. She can’t ignore his command, but she keeps begging and pleading. It falls on deaf, furious ears. Valentine walks her back to the door he just used and silences her with a shot through her forehead.
Okay, maybe Valentine is freaking me out a bit.
Dante presses his thumb over that special spot on the side of my neck again, owning me with another touch before he talksinto my ear. “He will always be like this when it comes to you. Valentine’s love is vicious because it cuts him so deep.”
“I’m not afraid,” I say, rubbing my face against Dante’s, needing more of his bitter almond and sour cherry scent. Honestly, I all but inhale him, like taking a shot of liquor for courage. Dante’s Amaretto scent tames the bites of Valentine’s designation when my husband walks up to me to kiss me again in front of everyone.
“Did I tell you how alive and free you make me feel?” Valentine asks nearly mournfully. His question and emotion are so left of center, but it’s so quintessentially Valentine in all his dark glory.
I wrap my hands around his face, kissing him with the desperation he brings to every part of me.
As quickly as he appeared, he goes again, but it’s only to trade places with Matteo as Valentine, the ringmaster in the chaotic and bloody arena, takes center stage again.
He digs his phone out of his pocket and holds up a finger to silence the crowd while a call rings.
“Kto eto?” a man barks.
Instantly, the accent triggers a memory, but Valentine’s gaze is holding me to him in the moment. He’s not letting me slip back to memories of being abducted.
“There will be payback for you abducting my wife.” Valentine’s response is vicious, and he weaves a dark promise of violence into the warning.
“You threaten the Pakhan of the Petrov Bratva?” The man laughs, and it’s abrasive, malicious.
“I don’t do threats.”
