Page 57 of The Hidden Heir

VALENTINA

To my surprise, I don’t have to fight Luca harder on the issue of my freedom. One evening, he asks me to dress up in a lovely chocolate-brown silk dress. I’m elegantly wrapped around his arm as we attend a charity gala organized by one of his business partners—or so he calls him.

“Luca, Valentina, what a pleasure to see you both!” Nicolo Gamberetti exclaims upon seeing us.

“It’s a pleasure to be here, Nicolo,” Luca politely replies.

I feel safe and comfortable as long as I stay as close to Luca as possible. His large frame, fit neatly into a black tux, casts a shadow over me, making me feel invisible to everyone else. Hiding in his wake, I’m almost smiling, watching the gala unfold around us.

The venue is massive, with lavish lighting and decorative chandeliers, explosions of flowers and gilded statues everywhere. The middle of the hall is wide open beneath a domed ceiling, and several cocktail and champagne bars are scattered around to keep the booze and the conversations flowing.

“And you look wonderful,” Nicolo says, looking straight at me.

“Thank you, Mr. Gamberetti. It’s looking like quite the party you’ve got going on here.”

“Please, call me Nicolo,” he says as he looks around. “It’s merely an excuse for our people to come together, wear some fancy clothes, and drink some expensive champagne. At least it’s for a good cause.”

“Nicolo is an avid supporter of helping orphans once they age out of the system,” Luca tells me.

“That’s incredible,” I say, impressed by how impactful such an initiative can be. “I can only imagine how much good you’re doing for kids who think they’ve got nothing waiting for them once they leave the orphanage or whatever foster home they’re assigned to.”

Nicolo nods in agreement. He’s in his mid-fifties and of clear Italian descent. He carries his age well, and he has a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. Most of the Camorra men carry themselves with darkness and danger—in Luca’s case, it’s decidedly and dangerously attractive, yet Nicolo seems like a strange ray of sunshine in comparison.

“I was raised by the streets,” he says. “Little Italy. I’m just giving kids a better shot than what I had. We don’t all have to be hungry wolves, Valentina. Times are changing, and the old Camorra is dying out. The least I can do is pave the way for something better.”

“That sounds quite noble,” I reply.

He laughs. “Not the kind of discourse you’re used to hearing in our circles, eh?”

“Not at all.”

“It’s one of the reasons why Nicolo and I work so well together,” Luca tells me, “and why I’m often compelled to attend these functions and to support his projects. Despite his upbringing and current business endeavors, Nicolo is trying to do some good in a world that needs it. I appreciate that.”

Nicolo is touched and shakes Luca’s hand with great enthusiasm. “Thank you, my friend. I hope you both have a great evening here. Just be advised, everyone from all over the Camorra is here.”

“Message received,” Luca replies with a wry smile.

We leave Nicolo to greet more of his incoming guests and sail through the thickening crowd, noticing both unknown and familiar faces. Our bodyguards are close by, blending in and keeping an eye out at all times. A different kind of concern comes over me when I recognize Caroline a few feet away from us, drinking champagne and laughing beside my stepfather.

“I guess that’s what Nicolo meant,” I mutter.

Subtly, Luca slips his arm around my waist, making sure I’m glued to his side as we walk over to the small group—my stepfather, Caroline, and Alex Caputo with his wife, Anne Marie. Alex is an associate of the Mancuso family and running a small business that benefits from the syndicate’s protection.

Luca needs to make these public appearances now more than ever.

“It’s going to be fine,” Luca whispers. “You’re more than capable of handling them.”

“I know I am. And I will never let these people anywhere near Michael,” I reply.

Caroline sees us first. Her smile is brief as her gaze wanders up and down my figure before it shifts to Luca and lights up again, brighter than ever. She looks ravishing in her red satin dress with matching lipstick and red-soled Louboutin pumps, gold twinkling elegantly around her slender neck.

“Luca, Valentina. I’m surprised to see the two of you here tonight,” she says, then gives me a worried look. “Had I known about what happened after you left the café, I would’ve reached out sooner.”

“It’s okay,” I tell her.

My stepfather doesn’t seem to be in the loop. “What café?” he asks with a deep frown, then glowers at me. “You’re quite the expensive sight these days, child.”

“Can you blame me?” I reply evenly.