Chapter 45 Surprise Guests
Valentina
Just as I was about to get a second cup of coffee, I hear footsteps echoing across the terrace.
Before I have time to even process the sound I hear a voice intrude through the silence.
“Cousin!” a voice boomed, far too loud for this early in the morning.
Matteo’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Luca,” he said, standing slowly. “What are you doing here, this is my honeymoon.”
The man who approached was younger than Matteo, but only slightly. Dark hair, tanned skin, a cocky swagger that screamed he’d been handed too much and earned too little. His arm was around a woman so pregnant she looked like she might give birth right there on the imported tile.
Luca shrugged. “Arianna wanted some sun before the baby comes. I figured what better place than the island?” He grinned, wide and toothy. “Didn’t realize you two would still be here, I thought you were honeymooning in Greece.” He added.
Bullshit. Every inch of his smug entrance reeked of calculation.
Matteo turned to me, slipping an arm around my waist like it was second nature. His hand splayed against my lower back, possessive.
“Luca, Arianna—this is my wife, Valentina.”
Wife.
The word still felt like a glove I hadn’t broken in. But in that moment, I slipped it on with practiced grace.
“Pleasure,” I said, offering a polite smile that didn’t touch my eyes. “Congratulations on the baby.”
Arianna nodded, beaming. “Thank you. Any day now.”
“Careful,” Matteo said dryly, guiding me back to my seat. “Don’t go into labor here. We just had the chairs reupholstered.”
Arianna laughed. Luca didn’t.
Instead, his eyes dragged over me—assessing, calculating, like a man comparing models at an auction house. My blood simmered.
“So tell me,” Luca said, lowering himself onto a cushioned seat across from us. “How was the wedding? Quick, wasn’t it?”
Matteo’s jaw flexed.
“It was beautiful,” I answered smoothly. “Private. Intimate. Just the way I wanted it.”
“I imagine,” Luca said, sipping his coffee. “You’ve known each other what? A month?”
“Three weeks,” Matteo answered. “And I’ve known enough women to know when one’s worth marrying.”
“And she’s already taken your name?” Luca raised a brow.
“Of course,” Matteo said. “She’s my wife.”
“And heir to your empire?” Luca asked, too casual.
There it was. The threat beneath the sugar.
Matteo didn’t flinch. “When we have a child, yes.”
Luca’s smile tightened. “Well, better get to work. Arianna and I wasted no time.”
He rested a hand on her belly like a prize. She blushed, clearly used to being the symbol of his ambitions.
I sipped my coffee to keep from speaking. My knuckles ached from gripping the mug.
This wasn’t just a family visit. It was a challenge. A test.
Luca had come to see if the marriage was real. If I was real. And if Matteo had any real intention of producing the one thing Alessio had demanded—a proper heir.
And I knew something else, too.
He wanted it. Not just the empire. The legacy. The throne. And he’d clearly decided I was the weak link.
He had no idea who the fuck he was dealing with.
I crossed one leg over the other slowly, letting my foot brush Matteo’s calf under the table. His hand stilled on my waist, then squeezed—hard.
Play the part, I reminded myself. And play it well.
“Oh, we’re working on it,” I said sweetly. “Matteo’s been… very diligent.”
Luca chuckled, but his eyes narrowed. “Well, I’m sure you’re both eager. A child does seal things, doesn’t it?”
Matteo didn’t respond.
I leaned into him, brushing my lips against his jaw. “Don’t worry, cousin,” I said, with enough sugar to rot teeth. “The throne’s not slipping through our fingers anytime soon.”
Luca’s smirk faltered.
Arianna cleared her throat. “I’m starving. Do you mind if we—?”
“Of course,” Matteo said. “We’ll have the kitchen set a table for you out here.”
He rose and pulled me up with him. “We’ll let you get settled. Come, amore.”
He led me inside, his grip iron. I waited until we were out of earshot before speaking.
“That little shit came here on purpose.”
“Yes.”
“He doesn’t believe it’s real.”
“No,” Matteo said. “And that needs to change.”
I smiled sweetly at him, eyes narrowed just enough to draw a line between flirtation and fury. “Oh, don’t you worry. Luca can doubt us all he wants—but he won’t find a single crack to crawl through. I’m going to give the performance of a lifetime.”
Matteo’s lips twitched, like he didn’t know whether to be impressed or suspicious.
I was counting on that.
Because what I didn’t say—what I wouldn’t say—was that this empire he was so desperate to protect? Part of it was already mine. The blood on which it was built… ran in my veins. Matteo Genovese may have slaughtered my family to get his crown, but I wasn’t here to watch him wear it.
I was going to take it back.
With interest.
And there was no way in hell I was letting some smirking cousin and his pregnant show pony get in the way of my plans.
Instead, I looked toward the hallway where Luca had disappeared, then turned back to Matteo with a cold little smile. “Don’t worry,” I said, tone laced in honey and warning. “He can doubt all he wants to. He’s not going to see a single crack in this marriage—not from me.”
Matteo’s gaze lingered on mine, something unreadable flashing behind his eyes. He gave a single nod and reached for his coffee.
I followed him deeper into the villa, pausing just long enough to brush invisible lint off his shirt like a doting new wife. I could feel the cameras in Luca’s imagination already rolling. Good. Let him think we were that couple—the ones who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.
We made it into the main living space, and I poured myself another cup of coffee from the silver carafe before sinking into the plush chair across from Matteo. My legs were crossed, posture casual. But underneath the softness of my expression, I was coiled wire.
“I’ll need to call Rosco,” I said lightly. “If Luca’s staying here, I’ll want a few more things to wear. That red bikini is definitely getting some airtime.”
Matteo smirked over the rim of his mug. “Strategic wardrobe choices?”
“Obviously. If this is going to be a show, I want the lighting to be perfect.”
He chuckled, and it was the first time in days the sound didn’t sound calculated. “What are you plotting, Mrs. Genovese?”
I gave him a slow, dangerous smile. “To be the most convincing newlywed this island has ever seen.”
Matteo stood and walked over to me, placing his hands on the armrests of my chair and caging me in. “Then we’d better start rehearsing.”
The tension snapped tight again. My heart kicked in my chest, but I didn’t let it show. Instead, I tilted my chin and whispered, “What do you have in mind?”
His mouth brushed the shell of my ear. “You’ll find out tonight. Wear something that slips off easily.”
Then he straightened, walked away like nothing had happened, and left me with my pulse thudding in my throat.