Chapter 51 Blood in the Water
Matteo
I didn’t speak as we left the jet.
Didn’t smile. Didn’t look at Luca. Didn’t look at Arianna.
My hand stayed glued to Valentina’s lower back, just in case I needed to shove her behind me and shoot someone in the face.
She said, “Review the tapes.”
She didn’t ask me to.
She told me.
And when Valentina tells you something with that sugar-slick voice and that angelic little smile, there’s always blood in the water somewhere.
I waited until we were in the car. Just the two of us.
“Show me your arm.”
She sighed like I was being dramatic, but she didn’t hesitate. The sleeve of her blouse slid up slow, revealing the red marks left by Luca’s fingers.
Five. One for each reason I now had to snap his wrist and shove it down his throat.
“He grabbed you?”
She looked out the window, chin lifted, lashes low. “It’s not what he did. It’s what he said.”
I turned to her. “Then say it.”
Her smile was thin. “He said if I opened my mouth, he’d kill me.”
My vision tunneled. Not metaphorically. Literally.
“You’re smiling.”
She turned back to me, expression calm. “Because I didn’t say a word. I don’t need to. The tapes said it for me.”
I stared at her for a beat, then grabbed my phone and pulled up the surveillance feed. Logged in. Swiped through the cameras. Found the one aimed at the back galley.
Hit play.
Maria. On her knees.
Luca. Head thrown back, hand in her hair.
Then Valentina appears. Still as a shadow. And Luca—fucking idiot—locks eyes with her. Reaches for her.
I watched him threaten her. Grab her.
Watched my woman walk away without flinching.
She came back to me. Sat on my lap. Lied with a straight face and a body still humming from violence.
And never once let the crown slip.
I set the phone down and leaned back in the seat.
Valentina tilted her head. “And?”
I looked at her. Really looked.
The game changed when she walked into that poker room.
But tonight?
She didn’t just play the game.
She flipped the board.
“Remind me to give you a kingdom when this is over,” I muttered.
She smirked. “I already have one. I married it.”
My hand found her thigh. Possessive. Commanding.
“I don’t want you near him again,” I said. “Not alone. Not ever.”
“Wasn’t planning to be.”
I nodded once. Good girl.
We arrived at the estate and entered like royalty returning from war.
Luca and Arianna were quiet behind us. Too quiet. But I could smell the tension bleeding off them like rot.
Maria? She was nowhere to be seen. Probably crawling under the jet with her shame still stuck in her throat.
“Have someone collect the surveillance,” I told Paolo at the door. “And make a copy. Secure. I want it off the plane and in my hands before midnight.”
He nodded and disappeared.
Valentina took my arm as we climbed the steps.
“Do you think Arianna will confront him?” she whispered.
“I hope she does.”
She blinked at me. “Why?”
“Because if she doesn’t, I will.”
We reached the bedroom. She stepped inside and kicked off her heels. I didn’t follow.
“Matteo?”
I turned to her, jaw tight.
“They touched what’s mine.”
Valentina’s expression didn’t change. But her voice softened. “And you’re not going to let them get away with it.”
“No,” I said. “I’m going to let them think they did.”
She paused.
Then: “You’re going to feed them rope.”
“And smile while they hang.”
I stepped into the room, shut the door behind me.
“We start tomorrow,” I said. “A new show. Bigger. Sharper. Every step we take will be toward the gallows they don’t see coming.”
Her eyes glinted. “And us?”
“We don’t crack. We don’t flinch. And we don’t let them catch us slipping.”
She walked into my arms like she belonged there. “Even in our room?”
I kissed her. Soft. Dangerous.
“Especially in our room.”
I left Valentina and went toward my office where Paolo already waiting just outside the door, thumb drive in hand.
He didn’t need to speak. I nodded once, took it from him, and shut the door behind me.
The air in the office was cool, sterile. Untouched since we’d left.
I slid the drive into the port and waited for the footage to load. The jet’s internal surveillance fed into my private system automatically—downloaded after every flight. But I preferred it firsthand.
There it was. Again, but this time on a bigger screen. Even clearer than before.
Maria on her knees, Luca’s hand on the back of her head, eyes rolled back like the absolute fucking moron he was.
And then—Valentina.
Frozen in the hallway, watching. The moment she turned to leave. The moment Luca grabbed her arm. Zoomed in, I could see her flinch, could see the white press of his fingers on her skin.
I clenched my jaw so hard it clicked.
That prick was dead.
But not yet.
Because I needed him alive long enough to bury himself.
I minimized the video just as a knock tapped against the door. I didn’t need to check. Only one man in this house knocked like he was announcing the end of the world.
“Enter.”
Alessio strode in, dressed in full travel formality—dark jacket, walking cane in hand, and that familiar glint in his eye that told me he knew something.
“You’re back,” he said, shutting the door behind him.
I leaned casually against the desk. “Landed an hour ago.”
His gaze flicked to the monitor, but I kept my body angled in front of it.
“Trouble?” he asked, motioning to the screen.
I moved to close the lid halfway. Not entirely. Just enough to appear careless, just enough to suggest there was something worth hiding.
“Business,” I said smoothly. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
That only made him more curious.
He walked toward the window, tapping the cane as he moved. “Where’s Valentina?”
“Asleep,” I said. “Jet lag hit her hard.”
Alessio grunted. “She looked wide awake on the runway. Radiant, actually. Good women glow around the right man.”
“Jet lag doesn’t care about radiance,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral. “She didn’t sleep on the flight.”
He turned, studying me. “And you?”
I shrugged. “Had too much on my mind.”
Alessio moved toward the desk, and I gave it exactly three seconds before checking my phone.
I frowned, then slipped it to my ear.
“Sorry—give me one minute. I need to take this.”
He waved me off like it didn’t matter, but I saw the way his eyes darted back to the half-closed laptop the second I stepped into the hall. I paused just outside the door, silent.
Waited.
Peeked.
There it was.
He sat down. Reached forward. Lifted the lid just an inch more. His face shifted as the video played—first confusion, then disgust, then barely suppressed rage.
Perfect.
I let the phone rest against my cheek while I listened, pretending I was on a call, but really? I was just watching the first domino fall.