“After she eats,” Valentine says, keeping us on track without being overbearing. “First, explain how you met one of the more important people within the Gambrillo Family before I got to introduce you as my wife.”
“I take it you’re not a fan.” I watch his face carefully, and even though he doesn’t say a word, he doesn’t need to; the look in hiseyes is akin to hate. “So, I had a little run-in with Rosa on the plane when I was coming here.”
His eyebrows pitch in question, and from behind me, Dante laughs. “Please tell us you told her to fuck off before accidentally stabbing her with a fork or something.”
“Kind of.” I laugh, twisting around.
Swinging to sit so we can all see each other, I spill my brief-but-intense meeting with Rosa. Not even leaving out how I basically called her a piece of shit.
Valentine sits like he’s about to start cross examining me. “And the text you got in the car on the way back from lunch?”
I look at him, before sweeping my gaze around to the others too. “Jana had a visitor at the restaurant when she wasn’t there, asking about Allison Monet.”
“Did they leave a name or calling card?” Matteo asks gently.
“Nope. Jana is getting a snippet of the security feed, so I can see who it is.”
Valentine’s eyes are hardening as he gets more and more pissed off. “Who do you think it is?”
“Not many people know Allison, which makes me think it was Rocco.”
“The person responsible for your extensive injuries?” Valentine’s words are clipped but there’s an edge of violence coating each of them.
“The very one.”
“Rocco who?” Dante pushes, beating Valentine. But only just.
“Rocco Quinn.”
Valentine looks away, and it’s like watching a computer doing a search. Dante and Matteo stay close, and aren’t distracted by their thoughts.
“Layne, you know we did a background check on you, and we knew about Allison,” Dante says, sitting back, not looking relaxed but not looking freaked out, either.
I nod, and he goes on as he leans forward, resting his hands on his knees. “We got copies of your file from the doctors who assessed your injuries, along with a copy of the complaint you made with the police.”
“Okay.”
“It gets weird. Because the copy we got didn’t include any information on the person who attacked you. Anything pertaining to him was blacked out.”
I exhale loudly, not hiding my frustration. I shouldn’t be annoyed the report got twisted and Rocco’s identity ended up being protected instead of mine, but I am. I am well-versed in how manipulative some Alphas can be. Valentine puts the steak on the grill.
The simple gesture is a visual reminder that I’m here with Pack De Luca, and not in a different place with a violent gangster.
“I can hear your thoughts from over here, Layne. You already know the reason they redacted anything to do with him. The police are being paid off.” Dante’s voice is like a beacon, keeping me focused and on track.
“It was a deliberate move on my part to press charges. Even after the detective told me Rocco was involved in a gang, who apparently has connections to the Bratva.”
I’m back to reading Valentine’s reactions carefully. But he comes in close and wraps around me from behind.
“I never said I would take the stand against him being involved in a gang,” I explain. “That would be suicide on my part, because I know how muddy the waters can get. I didn’t know if the police were in the pockets of the gang he was involved with, or if there is any truth in that gang being one of the Bratva. But I couldn’t let him just walk out without being punished. I thought I would be giving the good guys the chance they needed to keep him in jail if they successfully got him arrested.”
Valentine’s arms around me tighten. And I suspect I already know where his head is, because they keep saying they know about the report on my injuries.
“You can ask me anything,” I say, rocking with him, suspecting he’s worried about the assumptions the team treating me made and undoubtedly reported.
“Did he rape you, Layne?”
I shake my head in answer, though my emotions bubble up, and I am right back in the memories of how close he came to raping me. I don’t hide the trauma from showing in my eyes, and the guys see it.
