Chapter Twenty-six – The Mentee

Chapter Twenty-six – The Mentee
BLAINE

The espresso was untouched. Gabe had placed it there minutes ago, without expecting a reaction. He had since returned to the stack of documents on my desk, working in silence while I sat still, fingers steepled under my chin, eyes fixed on the dark surface of the cup.
After my last interaction with my principessa, I needed space — not to think, but to cool down. I had pushed too far. Said the wrong things. That much had been written all over her face, in the wide-eyed horror when the words left my mouth. But in that moment, I couldn’t stop myself. 
I needed to see how she’d react. Not to me, but to a cruelty that was entirely possible in the world she’d just stepped into. She couldn’t know yet that I would never let another man touch her — that anyone who even tried would die without mercy — because I needed her to understand what it meant to be here.
Still, it was important to remember my actual goals. Which was why I had called in Valentina — my mentee, and conveniently one of Malia’s closest friends. Malia, of course, was completely unaware of Val’s connection to me… or to the Mafia at all.
Val stormed in without knocking, closing the door quickly behind her. The sharp click of it echoed as she leaned against it with a deep, annoyed sigh and shot me a glare.
“Are you insane calling me here?” she whisper-hissed, as if she truly believed Malia might be standing on the other side of the door — which was impossible, since every room I used was soundproof.
“Valentina,” Gabe barked from his seat, his voice low and commanding. She jumped, her eyes flicking to him in surprise, like she hadn’t noticed him there at all. She raised her hands slightly in surrender and bowed her head just enough to acknowledge her mistake.
Good. Gabe had put her in her place before I had to. I wasn’t in the mood today.
“My apologies, Capo Bastone,” she said more formally now. “I just didn’t expect you to risk me being spotted. I’ve been under very strict instructions to keep my cover.”
“I doubt she has any plans to leave her room any time soon,” I said, voice even.
Val gave me another look — sharp, questioning — silently demanding: What did you do?
I didn’t answer. I wasn’t obligated to. And she was smart enough not to press.
“As we’ve had to move forward faster than originally intended,” I began, shifting the conversation back on track.
“We?” she interrupted, instantly souring my mood.
My jaw clenched. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply, forcing down the sharp wave of irritation she always managed to summon. And when I opened my eyes again, I could feel the air in the room drop several degrees.
Valentina Moretti had a particular talent for stepping on my last nerve. Usually, I didn’t mind — her habit of challenging me mirrored her brother’s, and more often than not, it forced clarity I didn’t know I needed. That was part of the reason I’d chosen her in the first place. But today was not one of those days.
“Valentina Moretti,” I said coldly. “You get one warning. Don’t interrupt me again.”
She swallowed hard, the shift in my voice hitting its mark. I held her gaze for a long moment to make sure it stayed with her, then continued.
“As I was saying — since the timeline has been cut short by several months, I’ll need your input on how to handle Malia’s reintegration into normal life. Especially while she still believes I’m someone else.”
“Something you never should’ve done in the first place,” Val muttered, just barely under her breath.
“You’re probably right,” I admitted with a shrug. “But what’s done is done. We’ll see how it plays out.”
“We’ll follow your wishes,” Gabe said diplomatically, giving his sister a look that held weight. “Even if we don’t always agree.”
Val rolled her eyes at him — not out of defiance, but because she knew he wasn’t scolding her this time. She was good at reading a room. Usually. Just not always her own limits.
“Well,” she started, shifting into a more strategic tone, “if you keep her cooped up in this house too long, she’s going to start climbing the walls. She needs people. Normalcy. Familiar faces. You can’t just erase the life she had before and expect her not to crack under it.”
“She can’t go back to her old life,” I said sharply. The edge wasn’t for her — it was for the situation itself. “Not fully. You know that.”
“I know,” she answered more gently. “But we both know Malia. She’ll try. If you don’t give her something, she’ll either explode or implode — and either way, it’ll turn into a mess.”
Too late.
Chaos was already here. It had midnight hair, eyes that burned with defiance, and a voice that refused to bow to anyone.
“But at least you don’t have to worry about her running,” Val added. “She gave her word. And you know how she is with promises.”
I leaned back, finally reaching for the espresso and taking a slow sip. “That’s exactly why I called you.”
Val raised an eyebrow. “You? Asking for help? That doesn’t sound like the Blaine I know.”
“Val,” Gabe warned again.
“I’m not asking,” I said flatly. “I’m assigning. I need your opinion on how to structure her return to school.”
“You’re actually letting her go back?” she asked, crossing her arms in disbelief.
“She’s insistent,” I said with a tired sigh, rubbing my temple. “And at this point, letting her hold on to a shred of independence is the only way I’ll stay sane. She needs protection — but I won’t have men following her around. No male guards. I don’t trust them.”
“Smart,” Val said, catching my meaning immediately. “And the girls?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.
“You know how it is. Girls our age will do anything for a taste of status. You think I’ll let one of them get within five feet of her just to see if they can flirt their way into a better position? Especially with the title of principessa not even public yet.”