Page 68 of The Mad Don
I look at her, and my heart stops.
It is Valentina.
She walks over to him in a long silk robe. Her hair is loose. Her mouth is bare. She bends down and kisses his cheek and slides her hand around the back of his neck.
She sees me.
Her eyes meet mine across the room, but there is nothing in her face for me.
My fists clench. I loved her first. Giovanni and I watched her from the shadows when we were errand boys as she attended meetings with her father, gasping at her beauty.
Why then was he the one to get engaged to her after he became Don?
She came to my room in the months Giovanni was ignoring her. She cried on my shoulder and let me hold her. She let me do more than hold her. I let myself believe it meant something. Then Giovanni walked in on us. He never visited me; I knew he must have come specifically to let us know that he knew. It was an excuse to end the engagement. I thought it meant the end of his hold on her. I thought she would come to me.
She did not; she avoided me for months and begged Giovanni to forgive her. And now, she is here; I heard that the Russian shot her father to protect Giovanni. She never came to me. Now, she is on Zaki’s neck.
Zaki follows my eyes.
“Do you want something,capo? Why are you staring?”
Before I can answer, Valentina speaks, “Darling, ignore him. I need you now.”
Zaki grins and puts out the cigarette.
I turn my eyes away. I begin to walk to the door. Behind me, I hear her laugh. She tells him to go easy on her tonight.
The rage in my chest is so hot it almost lifts me off my feet.
I will avenge every humiliation, but first,Giovanni must die.
Chapter Eighteen
Giovanni
Kirill’s voice comes through the earpiece into my ear.
“It’s confirmed: Fabiano has ties to Zaki. And Zaki has been approving orders large enough that they can’t take them through the minor routes. Which means —”
“Which means they’re getting ready to take me down and control my routes.”
“That’s my read. You don’t have much time?”
I am at the window of the first-floor hall. Below me, in the garden, Yana has wheeled Lucia out to the flowerbeds. They are stopped at the roses. Lucia is pointing at something and laughing, and Yana is bent down beside the chair, and I can hear, faintly, the sound of her laughing.
“Tell me something, Pakhan,” I say. “How often have you seen your bodyguard laugh?”
There is silence on the line.
“Don, we keep this at business. Don’t make me regret the favor.”
I laugh.
“Send your men at midnight. I’ll hand over everything I need you to have.”
“Alright, take it easy.”
“Pakhan.”
