The room I’m in is so dark, the shadows have shadows that reach out and latch on, making the walls creep closer with each breath I take. But I can’t move. It’s important that I’m here, I somehow know that. Matteo takes a breath near me, his vanilla scent more intense than usual, and I must stumble, because my hand brushes over the wall, but then the shadows grab a hold of it. I’m suddenly out of the void, dragged from the darkness to my father’s office.
Matteo leans back in my father’s chair and is talking, my father’s voice falling from his lips.
“Once I have confirmation from my bank your deposit has been received, you own her. And no refunds.” He laughs as he stands. His double-breasted suit is the same as he has always worn—blue and white pinstripes. He moves the same, too, exactly like my father did, but Matteo’s gentle voice is the only thing I hear, even though it’s my father’s mouth that is moving. “She doesn’t remember. Give her to your enemy when you’re done, and I’ll convict them so justice is served.”
My father’s mouth opens again, and this time, it’s his laughter that spills from it. Not Matteo’s, because Matteo is long gone. Not even his scent is around me anymore—he is completely absent, and so are all the memories I had.
A part of my chest snaps. The pain is incredible.
I stumble backward, landing on my ass in the darkened room. This time, it’s smaller. I start to suffocate from the ache in my chest, but the darkness is closing in. My hands dig out in front of me, desperate for an escape.
It feels like forever before a tiny pinprick appears from nowhere. Right as I realize it is way too late, sweet espresso rushes over my face, but I’ve been struggling for too long. The floor gives out, and I plummet.
“Layne! Come on, Layne, wake up.”
My eyes burst open, and I gasp frantically, clawing at my throat. “I can’t breathe!”
“Yes, you can, Layne. Yes, you can,” Valentine insists.
The room is nearly as dark as my nightmare, but I can see him like he’s been bathed in light. His eyes are dark, full of determination and worry. He holds my face in a way I can’t pull out of, but it doesn’t feel like I’m trapped. His sole focus is on me, and he completely ignores the dogs rumbling in warning next to him.
The more Valentine talks, the more espresso-tainted air I get in my lungs, and the hold the demons from my dreams had slowly releases. He keeps breathing in the same obvious way, making me follow without trying.
“You are safe with us. You are so fucking safe with us, Layne. If you don’t feel safe just yet, I will make that my mission in life until you do.” Valentine is half naked, his hair a mess, and he has unusually dark circles around his eyes.
He moves so fast, it makes my head spin. He mutters commands to the dogs in Italian while scooping me into his arms, pinning me to his chest.
Warmth radiates off him and it sinks in deep. Quickly too. Bella leans against my back, and Edward demands Valentine open his legs, so he can also sit close enough for me to feel his fur pushing against my side, all of them keeping me warmer than blankets ever could.
With my head pressed against Valentine’s chest, he doesn’t need to speak loudly, but I hear him very clearly. “You’ve bewitched these dogs as quickly as you have us, Layne.”
I hear what he says, but I keep my focus on the frantic beat of his heart as my guide. And despite everything that happened earlier, making me doubt myself and them, I have this deep-seated need, and desire, to tell Valentine more of what he has already discovered.
I draw my legs up, making myself as small as possible, before sharing with him the awful truth. “My father sold my virginity to someone important in your world.”
I read the heavy thud from Valentine’s chest as his empathy and it gives me the confidence to tell him my deepest, ugliest fear. He squeezes me so tight, it realigns something inside me.
“I don’t know if I’ve forgotten who it was or if I never actually knew. But what if they find me, Valentine, like you did?”
“You’re mine now,la mia moglie. Like you are Dante’s and Matteo’s. Nothing is getting past us,” Valentine insists.
I’m unsure if it’s intentional, but there’s a press of his Alpha that accompanies his words, along with the uplifting rush of his espresso scent. He rubs his face over my hair, scent marking me in the process.
A low rumble of warning comes from the space where Edward has buried his snout. But Valentine growls back at Edward, silencing the dog before he squeezes me gently again. “And nothing is getting past these bloody dogs, too, apparently.”
18
Layne
Late-night confessions and sleeping on Valentine’s chest settles a lot of my swirling thoughts, and it helps me see exactly what I need to do. They probably won’t like it one bit.
Showering quickly, I feel a little torn about rinsing off Valentine's espresso scent, but I need today to be like a fresh slate. Drying my hair and using the body lotions in the bathroom, I smell like me, which is important. Dressing in some of the workout gear we bought yesterday and wearing my new running shoes adds a pep to my step, and as I let the dogs out to do their business, I stretch, testing how my ribs are holding up. Matteo’s promise of a massage never happened after the unfolding drama when we got home, and my skin is red and angry where the tape was, but on the whole, the area feels better than I thought it would.
Valentine is up, the television playing softly again, but unlike the other morning when spontaneity and instant lust had meenjoying orgasms on his wicked mouth, the mood around the island is different.
Matteo is already up, drinking his coffee and watching the news highlights, and Dante makes lots of obvious noise when he comes out of his room, so I know where he is. As if I could miss his presence or the plume of his Amaretto scent as it clouds around me.
“How did you sleep?” he asks as he passes, intentionally keeping things very un-Dante in his offhanded, casual approach.
