“Valentina.” The particular softness that enters his voice in her presence never fails to catch me slightly off guard. This man, who commands rooms, who makes other men lower their eyes without having to ask, and she walks in, and everything about him rearranges. “You should be resting. The doctor specifically said?—”
“The doctor said light movement is fine,” she replies evenly and allows her husband to pull out a chair before she’s even reached for one. She sits with a small exhale she’s clearly trying to make invisible. “Is there any news about Lindsay or her father?”
“I believe Matteo is better suited to answer that question,” Salvatore drawls.
Valentina’s gaze lands on me, expectant. I huff out a short breath.
“The mayor’s in recovery. The bullet didn’t hit any major arteries and the surgery was successful,” I inform her. “And Lindsay is with me.”
“With you?” she questions, confused.
“Yes. I’m keeping her safe in my home. She’s alright.”
“You’re keeping Lindsay Beaumont in your home? Did you kidnap her?” she asks, accusation in her tone.
“No.”
“She went to your place willingly?”
“Something like that.”
Valentina goes silent for a second. Then realization dawns in her expression.
“Is there something going on between the two of you?”
“I don’t have an answer to that question,” I reply, my jaw clenches.
She considers this before sighing. “Take me with you when you leave, I want to see her.”
“I think you should wait,” I say gently, recognizing the worry in her expression. “She’ll come to you when she’s ready.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Her expression clears, and she turns to her husband with a small smile. “Sorry for interrupting, my love. I’ll leave you boys to get back to business.”
He shakes his head. “Please lie down. I’ll be in there soon.”
She blows him a kiss before leaving the room and then it’s just us left. We discuss business for a couple more moments until Raffaele starts to grow restless.
“Is there anything else left on the agenda?” he questions, groaning softly. I raise an eyebrow when I notice he’s twirling a silver knife in his hand. “I have business of my own to attend to.”
“What business?” Elio questions curiously.
Raffaele’s eyes gleam as he leans forward in his chair. “I caught two snakes attempting to slither away at my nightclub. Let’s just say they left permanent damage to two women, and I’m in the process of carving their apologies into their skin.”
My brother has always despised men that inflict violence on women. It’s the one line he won’t cross. And he punishes those around him who dare to do so.
“I want in,” I say before I can think better of it.
Raffaele arches an eyebrow. “Come again?”
“I need to release some tension anyway.” I shrug.
“The prosecutor must not be very good in bed if you’re looking to release tension elsewhere,” my idiot brother says with a smirk.
I roll my eyes. “Raf, don’t test me. You just might find the pointy end of that dagger inside your arm.”
“So many threats from you today, Matty. It’s so very out of character.”
“Can I get in on the violence or not?” I grit out.
