Chapter 59 THE GARDEN GHOST
Matteo
The hallway reeked of smug entitlement.
I had just stepped out of Luca’s empty room, jaw clenched and teeth grinding, when I almost collided with him and Arianna in the corridor.
Speak of the fucking devils.
“Where is Valentina?” I demanded, voice like a whip crack.
Luca barely blinked. “How the fuck should I know where your wife is?” he scoffed. “Maybe you should keep her on a tighter leash.”
I didn’t think. I just moved.
One hand slammed against his chest, pinning him against the wall so fast the sconces rattled. “Say that again. I dare you.”
Arianna stepped in between us with a flinch. “She came back with Alessio earlier. Early afternoon. We haven’t seen her since.”
I released Luca with a shove.
“I had to take my girl shopping,” Luca added with a smirk. “Since she was left out today.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Shopping? How’d you pull that off with no fucking money? Didn’t Alessio cut you off?”
Arianna turned on him like a switchblade. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Luca’s jaw ticked.
I barked a low, cold laugh. “You haven’t told her yet?” I whistled softly. “Good luck with that. I’ve got a wife to find.”
Behind us, a door creaked open and Alessio appeared in a robe, hair rumpled, eyes sharp. “What’s going on out here?”
“Valentina’s missing,” I said. “And she doesn’t have her phone. I can’t track her.”
Alessio frowned, tugging the belt on his robe tighter. “She can’t have gone far.”
Footsteps thundered from the east wing, and Carol came rushing down the hallway in slippers and a nightgown. “One of the maids woke me,” she panted. “Is something wrong?”
“She’s missing,” I said again. “Valentina. Did you see her?”
Carol nodded quickly. “She had a blanket and a book with her earlier. I thought she might be tucked away reading. Did you check the courtyard?”
“She’s not there.”
“Well…” Carol twisted her fingers nervously. “What about the library?”
We checked. Nothing.
I was done being calm.
I barked orders like bullets—every maid, every butler, every staff member. “Search the mansion. Every room. Every hall. Every closet and crawlspace. Then search the grounds.”
I turned, stormed toward the main entry hall, and saw the French doors.
Wide and tall and half-shuttered. A faint breeze slipped through the crack.
Beyond them? The garden.
Of course.
I pushed through the doors and down the stairs, cutting across the manicured path into the wild maze of hedges and flowering trees. The garden was fucking massive—too big for its own good—and twisted like a goddamn labyrinth.
I moved fast, taking corners, pushing branches, eyes scanning every alcove and corner until—
There.
A shadow curled beneath the willow.
I slowed my steps, heart punching hard behind my ribs.
She was there.
Wrapped in a blanket, book folded over her lap, legs tucked under her like a fucking storybook nymph.
I exhaled sharply, crouching beside her. “Valentina?”
She didn’t stir.
“Valentina,” I tried again, shaking her shoulder gently.
Nothing.
Then I saw the bottle of wine—empty. The glass tipped on its side.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I muttered.
She was completely passed out. Soft breaths, wine-flushed cheeks, and that same fucking book she always carried curled in her hand like a lifeline.
I dragged a hand down my face.
Of course she wasn’t missing.
Of course she’d just gone off to get drunk under a damn tree like some romantic heroine from a tragic novel.
I should’ve been furious.
Instead…I was relieved.
So fucking relieved it made my ribs ache.
I reached down and scooped her up, blanket and all, lifting her against my chest. She nuzzled closer in her sleep like I was her safe place.
Like I was the man I kept pretending to be.
I carried her back inside—through the French doors, through the halls, past the staff still searching—and straight to her bed.
She never woke once.
And when I laid her down, brushed her hair from her face, and pulled the blanket up to her chin…I didn’t move right away.
I just sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her, and wondered how the hell I was supposed to keep doing this.
Because for the first time since this whole fucking performance began…I wasn’t sure where the lie ended and the truth began.
I was about to leave the room. She was safe. Sleeping. Wrapped in the blanket I carried her home in. Her wine-soaked breath soft and steady, her lashes resting against flushed cheeks.
But then I paused.
She was still wearing her clothes—soft linen pants and a thin tank top. Not exactly comfortable to sleep in, especially soaked with dew from the garden.
I rubbed a hand over my face.
Fuck it.
I opened the door and motioned for the maid lingering nearby. “Get Carol.”
Less than a minute later, she appeared, breathless and barefoot.
“She needs changing,” I said simply, stepping aside.
Carol’s brows lifted faintly, but she nodded and disappeared into the closet. She returned with one of those ridiculous soft sleep shirts Valentina liked—this one printed with some sarcastic phrase I didn’t even try to read.
“I’ll hold her,” I said.
Carol didn’t argue.
She approached gently, like Valentina was glass, and I shifted her onto my lap, supporting her weight with one arm under her knees and the other cradling her back.
Carol worked fast but careful.
Tank top over her head.
Soft breasts exposed and quickly covered by the sleep shirt.
Then came the pants, peeled off gently while I held her limp legs.
I didn’t look. I didn’t dare.
This wasn’t about lust.
It was about care.
About responsibility.
About something I couldn’t fucking name.
Carol smoothed the sleep shirt down and adjusted the blanket around her. “She’ll sleep better now,” she whispered, and I just nodded.
“Thank you.”
She bowed slightly and slipped from the room.
I stood there for a moment, still holding Valentina in my arms. Then I slowly lowered her back to the bed, tucked the blanket around her, and straightened.
Time to go.
But just as I turned to leave, I heard it.
A soft, breathy murmur. “…Matteo…”
I froze.
She rolled slightly, fingers curling toward the empty side of the bed. “…Matteo…”
My throat tightened.
It wasn’t a plea.
It wasn’t fear.
It was comfort. Trust.
Need.
I undid my shirt buttons one by one, then pulled it off. My slacks followed, along with my shoes.
I slid into bed beside her.
She immediately found me in her sleep, curling against my chest, tucking her face under my jaw like she belonged there.
Like she knew.
I wrapped my arms around her without a word.