Chapter 115 Things We Don’t Say
Valentina
I woke to an ache in my spine and the sting of carpet burn on my cheek. The blanket tangled around me was halfway off, and my pillow had migrated somewhere under the couch.
I sat up slowly, the empty space above me confirming what I already knew.
He was gone.
No note. No sound. Not even the lingering warmth of his presence.
I stretched, joints stiff from sleeping on the floor, and glanced at the clock on the wall. Almost eight. Late, by his standards. He usually started tearing into people by six.
I stood, folding the blanket with careful hands, smoothing the pillow before setting it back on the bed like it mattered. Like it would make a difference.
It didn’t.
I changed quickly—something soft, something neutral, something that didn’t scream look at me or ask me if I cried last night. Then I left my suite, heart hammering like he might be just around the corner.
He wasn’t.
But Alessio was.
“Good morning, tesoro,” he said warmly, nearly colliding with me in the hallway. “You’re up early.”
“I—was just going to check the office. See if Matteo—”
He waved a hand. “No work this morning. I convinced him to take a ride down to the port with Rosco. Let him clear his head.”
Clear his head.
I wonder if he means to avoid me? Or perhaps, because of the Big John situation. I bet that’s it. Don’t be paranoid.
Alessio smiled. “I was just heading to breakfast. Would you join me?”
I hesitated. Then nodded. “Of course.”
We walked together, slow and familiar. The way it used to feel. Before I blew everything up.
The dining room was quiet, just the clink of silverware and the soft rustle of the newspaper Alessio always brought with him.
Halfway through my second bite of eggs, he lowered his cup and asked, “So… when are you two going to give me a great-grandchild?”
I nearly choked.
Coughed. Covered my mouth. Reached for water.
His eyes twinkled.
“Oh—uh—” I wiped my mouth and forced a smile. “Well, it’s not from a lack of trying.”
He chuckled. “That’s all I could ask for.”
But it wasn’t all he wanted.
And gods, the guilt that bloomed in my chest nearly crushed me.
Because I wasn’t trying.
Not really.
There was a thin piece of copper and plastic buried in my uterus that made sure of that. An invisible barrier he didn’t know about. A choice I made before our wedding. Before I fell in love with him. Before any of this became real.
And now?
Now I sat across from the man who’d given me his name, his heir, and his trust—and lied with a smile on my face.
I sipped my coffee, hoping it would hide the tremble in my hand.
Maybe I should get it removed.
The thought came unbidden, unwelcome. And yet it lingered.
Would it be so terrible?
To stop holding onto control like it was armor? To let fate have its way with me for once?
But another voice—sharper, older—cut through the fog.
You’re not ready to be a mother.
Not yet.
Not while Matteo still looked at me like I might stab him in his sleep. Not while there were still secrets between us.
This one included.
I wouldn’t tell him.
Not yet.
I’d keep this to myself. A secret wrapped in good intentions and guilt. And eventually, when the time was right—when things were better—I’d have it removed.
By then, it wouldn’t matter.
By then, I’d be ready.
And he’d never have to know I wasn’t at the start. I already hurt him too much by confessing who I am and what my plans were when I first came to New York.
Just as I was stirring the last bit of sugar into my coffee, the heavy double doors creaked open behind me.
Rosco entered first, tossing a wink my way before dramatically sniffing the air. “Thank fuck. I was about to chew my own arm off.”
Matteo followed a beat later, sharp in a black button-up, sleeves already rolled. His gaze landed on me but gave nothing away. No warmth. No distance. Just… unreadable.
Alessio raised a brow. “I thought you two were headed to the port?”
Matteo slid into the chair beside me. “Yeah, I called ahead. Shipment’s running late by a couple hours.”
Rosco plopped down with a groan. “And this one was acting like a toddler throwing a tantrum about breakfast. Figured feeding him was safer for everyone.”
I didn’t miss the slight lift of Matteo’s mouth. Not quite a smile, but close. Still, he didn’t look at me.
Alessio chuckled and poured Matteo a cup of coffee without asking, like it was second nature. “Well, I suppose that works out. Stay. Eat breakfast with your wife.”
The meal passed in silence after that, save for Rosco’s inappropriate commentary about eggs being “nature’s boobs” and Alessio threatening to revoke his table privileges.
Once the plates were cleared and Alessio wandered off to take a call, I stood slowly and turned to Matteo, heart thudding.
“I want to go see them.”
His brow lifted. “See who?”
“My guardians. In person.” I held his gaze, steady even as nerves buzzed under my skin. “There are things I need to ask. Things I don’t want to talk about over a screen. I want to look them in the eyes when I do.”
Matteo studied me, jaw tight. “Fine.”
That surprised me. “Really?”
He pushed up from the chair, grabbing his coffee. “Once the shipment’s in and I’ve got Johnny settled into Big John’s place—we’ll go. But you’re not going alone.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
He paused in the doorway, finally looking at me—really looking. “You better hope they give you answers. Because I’m running out of patience for all these fucking secrets.”
Then he walked off.
And I followed, because whatever this was between us… it was far from over.