Chapter 40: Valentina

Valentina's POV

I slammed the door behind me as I entered the room, my heart hammering against my ribs. The smug look on Dante's face when he'd called me "little cat" made me want to both slap him and kiss him senseless. How dare he act so possessive when he'd clearly been with countless women?

"Arrogant bastard," I muttered, pacing back and forth across the small guest room I'd been assigned.

I felt agitated, restless, like my skin was too tight for my body. The hypocrisy of it all drove me crazy. He had so many sexual partners himself—that lingerie in his apartment was proof enough—so why should he control me? What gave him the right to dictate who I could or couldn't be with?

The memory of that burgundy lace made jealousy flare hot and vicious in my chest again. I pictured Dante with some faceless woman, his hands on her body, his mouth on her skin, and the image made me want to scream. Or break something. Preferably over his perfect, arrogant head.

"It's not fair," I whispered, sinking onto the edge of the bed, consumed with jealousy over women he'd been with before he even knew I existed.

A soft knock interrupted my spiraling thoughts.

"Val? You in there? It's me, Sheila." The familiar voice of my best friend was exactly what I needed right now.

"Yeah, come in!" I called back, relieved to have someone to vent to.

The door opened, and Sheila bounced in, her blonde hair swinging.

"Whoa, you look like you want to murder someone," she said, flopping down beside me on the bed. "Let me guess—tall, dark, and broody stepbrother?"

I threw myself back on the bed with a dramatic groan. "He's driving me insane!"

"In a 'want to kill him' way or a 'want to fuck him' way?" Sheila asked bluntly, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Sheila!" I smacked her arm, but couldn't help laughing. This was why I loved her—she never tiptoed around anything. "Both, I think."

"Knew it!" She pumped her fist triumphantly. "The sexual tension between you two is so thick I could cut it with a knife. But seriously, what happened? You look ready to explode."

"He's such a hypocrite," I said, sitting up to face her. "Acting all possessive and warning guys away from me, when he's clearly slept with half the women in this place!"

"And that bothers you because...?" Sheila prompted, a knowing gleam in her eyes.

I threw a pillow at her. "Don't psychoanalyze me. I'm not jealous."

"Sure, honey. And I'm not hiding in this clubhouse because someone broke into my apartment." She rolled her eyes. "Admit it—you want him all to yourself."

"That's ridiculous," I insisted, but the heat creeping up my neck betrayed me. "He's my stepbrother."

I did have a sexual relationship with him, and it has been weighing on me. I don't know how to navigate our relationship, and I realize that our feelings may not have the approval of our parents.

"Step being the operative word here," Sheila reminded me. "No blood relation. Just a sexy-as-hell guy who happens to be related to you through marriage."

I buried my face in my hands. "I'm so messed up."

"Join the club," Sheila muttered, suddenly looking away.

Something in her tone made me look up. "What does that mean?"

A faint blush colored her cheeks. "Nothing."

"Sheila..." I nudged her, recognizing the signs. "Spill it. Now."

She bit her lip, her usual confidence wavering. "Promise you won't freak out?"

"When have I ever freaked out about anything you've told me?" I asked. We'd been through a lot together.

"This is different," she said, twisting a strand of hair around her finger—a nervous habit she'd had since childhood. "I think... I might have feelings for someone. Someone completely inappropriate."

"More inappropriate than your best friend's stepbrother?" I challenged.

Sheila took a deep breath. "Your stepbrother's uncle."

"WHAT?" I shrieked, bolting upright. "Matteo? Are you serious?"

Sheila's entire face turned crimson. "I knew you'd freak out!"

"I'm not freaking out," I said, though my voice was several octaves higher than normal. "I'm just... processing. Matteo? Really? I mean, yeah, he's sexy in that older, experienced way, but he's got to be twice your age!"

"He's forty-three," Sheila mumbled. "I looked him up."

"And you're twenty," I pointed out. "That's a twenty-three year gap!"

"Age is just a number," she said defensively, though her blush deepened. "Besides, it's not like anything's going to happen. He probably sees me as a kid."

I studied my friend's face, noting the dreamy look in her eyes. "Oh my god, you've got it bad, don't you?"

Sheila fell back on the bed with a dramatic sigh. "He's just so... manly, you know? Not like the boys we went to school with. He's confident and gentle and those eyes, Val. Have you seen his eyes?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Wow, you sound like me talking about—" I cut myself off abruptly.

"About Dante?" Sheila supplied with a smirk.

"Shut up," I muttered, but there was no heat behind it.

"Look at us," Sheila giggled, "both falling for the forbidden fruit. What a mess."

"Complete disaster," I agreed, but found myself laughing too. The absurdity of the situation was almost comical.

Sheila sat up suddenly. "Wait, I didn't just come here to talk about my pathetic crush. I wanted to tell you something else."

"What?"

"I think Matteo might have known me when I was little," she said, her expression turning serious. "I grew up in that orphanage, remember? "

I nodded. Sheila had been adopted when she was eight, but she'd spent her early years in the state system.

"Well, I've been having these flashbacks since we got here. About this man who used to visit the orphanage, doing charity work. He'd always slip me lollipops when no one was looking."

"And you think it was Matteo?" I asked, intrigued despite myself.

She nodded. "The caretaker always told me I was just a girl abandoned at the orphanage's doorstep, with no family around. The other kids were awful to me—always stealing my food, leaving me hungry. But this man... he made me feel special."

"Have you asked Matteo about it?"

Sheila shook her head. "Are you kidding? 'Hey, were you the hot older guy who gave me candy as a child? Also, want to make out?' That wouldn't be weird at all."

I snorted with laughter.

"I don't know what to do, Val," Sheila admitted, hugging a pillow to her chest. "Every time he looks at me, I get all fluttery inside. It's ridiculous."

"Tell me about it," I muttered, thinking of how my own body betrayed me around Dante.

"Well, my brother's uncle is indeed very sexy," I said, mimicking her dreamy tone, "but how could you like a man so much older than yourself?" I couldn't keep the teasing note out of my voice.

Sheila smacked me with the pillow. "Like you're one to talk, Miss I-Want-To-Jump-My-Stepbrother's-Bones!"

We both dissolved into giggles.

But soon, our laughter was interrupted by a rapid knocking on the door.

We froze, exchanging a wide-eyed look. Had someone heard us? God, I hoped not. The last thing either of us needed was for our inappropriate crushes to become public knowledge.