Page 137 of The Mafia King's Reign
I want is to go into her bedroom, apologize, and make love to her until she begs me to stop, but then my father’s words linger on my mind once again,never fuck with a woman when she’s pissed off. In those exact words, when I was still a kid. My mother threw a piece of bread at him because she hated it when he talked to us like wise guys, but he just laughed and ate the bread, which had landed on the sofa in front of him.
The way dad used to be with mom, the way he only changed his attitude for her, and only listened to her. The way he use to be happy when she clowned him. I feel all of these things with Valentina. I’ve dated so many fucking women and never felt anything close to what I feel for her.
But now I’m afraid I may have just destroyed the only good thing in my life.
I pull out my phone and find her name… My Valentina
Before sending a short text:I’m sorry.
She doesn’t respond right away. I keep checking but there’s noting. No dots, no message, nothing.
Finally, my phone vibrates, and I look down to see her name across the screen.
Valentina:I hate you!
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Valentina
It would be easier to hate Salvatore if my body did not betray me so completely.
I take a long shower, hoping the heat will clear my head. Hoping it will scrub away the memory of him. His hands everywhere, the feel of his lips down my back, and the way his body pressed into mine, stealing my breath and leaving me aching in places I should not still feel two days later.
I hate that I woke up sore from him. I hate that my body remembers what my heart refuses to forgive.
The water scalds my skin, turning it pink, but it does nothing to erase the phantom touch of his fingers or the sound of his voice when he whispered my name. I scrub harder, as if I can wash away the weakness he exposed in me, the part of me that still wants him despite everything.
When I am finished, I take my time getting dressed, choosing a simple sundress and denim jacket. Salvatore admitted to having my father and refuse to promise me that he would keep him alive. I've had my heart broken before, but this one is different. This one feels like a wound that will never fully heal, a scar I'll carry forever.
The other heartbreaks were clean breaks, painful but survivable. This is something else entirely. This is loving someone who holds the power to destroy everything you hold dear, and choosing to do it anyway. This is betrayal.
Rosa arrives with breakfast, her expression soft and knowing, but I don't give in to the heartache. It's easier to hate Salvatore anyway. Hate is simpler than love. Hate doesn't require forgiveness or understanding. Hate doesn't keep you up at night wondering if there's another way.
"Late today, I see," I say jokingly, forcing brightness into my voice. "Hot date?"
She smiles and shakes her head, setting the tray down on the small table by the window. "No. Mr. Salvatore asked me to give you these."
She hands me a beautiful arrangement of flowers.
"What does he expect me to do with them?" I ask. "Place them on my father's grave when he kills him? Tell him he can keep them." I set the flowers on the breakfast tray.
"Very well," Rosa says, but she does not leave. She stands there, hands folded in front of her.
"What is it, Rosa?"
She hesitates, choosing her words carefully. "Your wedding is coming soon. Perhaps it is time to come to terms with it. It would make life easier."
Oh, now she has something to say.
I laugh once, sharp and humorless. "Easier for who?"
"For you," she says gently. "Fighting a battle you cannot win only causes more pain."
"I tried," I continue before she can elaborate. "I tried to belong. I tried to accept this life. I even tried to love him."
My throat tightens, and I have to pause to keep my voice steady. "I gave him a chance to love me back."
"I think you know how he feels about you," she says gently, sitting on the edge of the bed.
