by Mj Fields
When we returned home, six hours later, she was too exhausted to be demanding, so after all those bags, all of them, were in her apartment, she went directly to her room and slept.
Sitting in the building’s foyer, I look over the file Vincent left with all the information about the secret and hostile takeover.
When Dominic and Valentina’s grandmother passed away, the company she owned with her second husband wasn’t doing well. His son Benito, a man who clearly thought he would have it all, was informed she had left shares to her estranged daughter, Valentina’s aunt, Josephina Steel, and her children, as well as Dominic and Valentina. This gained them a majority of the shares.
None of the children wanted control of all Segretti’s holdings, and now Benito DeLuca ran the majority of those in Italy. Dominic simply wanted the vineyards, where the family money came from, to flourish.
When Benito tried to ruin him, he fought back quietly. When Benito couldn’t bring him completely to his knees, he demolished the very place his parents had met and fell in love and built a massive glass building atop it.
There is information on the new tenant, Laney. From what I gather, Dominic has great affection for her. I also know Valentina is supposed to keep her distance, because he doesn’t want her to know he purchased the building when she decided to move in.
Much of Valentina’s shopping time was also spent on the phone with Dominic, so everything in the file, including Laney’s information, I already know.
As I wait for her arrival, I can’t help thinking about how much I am enjoying New York. More importantly, how much I enjoy less hostility.
My feisty, demanding, temper tantrum throwing, perpetual pain in the ass charge has been a little quieter since her and Dominic are spending more time together. This gives me ample opportunity to add to Cyrus Steel’s security; things that make my life easier.
I have added audio devices in Valentina’s apartment because it is what I am used to. I am used to hearing her. I am used to being able to tell from whatever tone I hear in her voice what her next move is.
In order to keep her safe, it’s necessary.
I am also creating more ways to put a distance between us.
The problem is, I have heard her laughing a lot as she binge-watches Netflix. I hear her cursing at the television and giving love advice to the actresses whose hearts are apparently breaking. She seems more … human.
I have also heard her in her room at night, getting herself off and cursing my name while doing it. Oddly, I take pleasure in this. She herself has ruined many a night for me, as well.
Karma.
With Dominic in Italy, and Valentina actually listening to him and his warning about safety under the duress her family is facing, the next two days go by without issue.
I also think she’s upset he left her behind. I almost feel sorry for her, only because I can see her through his eyes, like when we were kids.
When I receive a text from Dominic, telling me that the new tenant will be arriving shortly, I wait for the car to arrive.
The alarm on the balcony door in Valentina’s apartment chimes off and on, so I know she is also waiting for Signorina Laney’s arrival.
It’s a little satisfying to know I will be meeting her, and Valentina is not allowed, not yet.
When the car pulls up in front, I recognize Laney from her photo in the file and on her social media page.
I hate social media, but because Valentina is connected, I must watch it, as well.
Laney has two friends with her, all carrying boxes out of the car. I open the door.
“I’ll take those,” I tell them. They look shocked. I suppose I may be intimidating to them. “If there is more, we can store them in the second-floor apartment. It is under renovation now, signorina.”
“Thank you …” the woman I know to be Laney begins and stops.
“Franco,” I fill in for her.
“Thank you, Franco.” She smiles and looks around. “The new management seems to be doing a lot to the building. It’s changed since I signed the lease.”
“Yes, signorina—”
“Laney,” she corrects. “Please call me Laney.”
“Of course.” Although, I am sure I won’t.
“So, the tenants on floor two had to move?” she asks, seeming genuinely concerned.
“New management, signorina. Floor one will be offices. The fourth floor is the only other occupied at this time. It’s safe, signorina.”
When she looks at me in a questioning manner, I realize I may have spooked her a bit by telling her it’s safe. Not everyone understands how vital that is.
Then she smiles. “That’s great.”
Laney goes to work every day. Vincent follows her there and back. I offered, but he just laughed and told me, “Valentina is your headache.”
And a headache she was.
A woman like her hates to be cooped up, unless she is sad or angry. There is a fine line that gets blurred between both moods. Therefore, Valentina has been shopping. Every hour, a package is delivered, and she makes me open them.
“Dominic wants me to be safe, so maybe you should open them.”
“I’m glad you listen to him,” I mumble under my breath.
“Of course I listen to him. He’s my brother, my family. He loves me. He doesn’t just want to bully me. He has reasons for his protectiveness. And they’re not because he doesn’t want to be bothered by me.”
I don’t argue. I don’t tell her that my job isn’t a bother. I don’t tell her that I have slept less than four hours a night since university because of her. I don’t tell her that every fucking time I have had it with her, I am reminded of being drawn to the sad little girl who allowed herself to be so vulnerable that it wasn’t a fucking choice.
I don’t do anything but nod. “Yes, Signorina Segretti.”
Once all the boxes are unpacked, I stand and turn toward her. She is standing in the kitchen, at the stovetop, actually cooking.
I look around the room and only then do I realize all these boxes have been things to make it seem more like a home, making her much more domestic than I have ever seen her.
“What?” she asks, making me realize I have been watching her for too long to go unnoticed.
Nevertheless, I don’t answer.
“I like to cook.” She rolls her eyes slightly, and I think I see her cheeks flush. “And that’s lucky for you.” She opens the stainless-steel, double-sided refrigerator and takes out a large glass container before walking over to me. “I made this last night. I won’t eat all of it, so you might as well.”
“I can—”
“Order in?” She laughs. “Fine.” She turns around quickly and heads toward the garbage. “Your loss.”
I watch as she dumps an entire pan of some sort of pasta and meat in the garbage.
When she turns and looks at me, I glare at her.
“What?” She shrugs. “You didn’t want it.”
“Anything else, Signorina Segretti?”
“No.”
Capitolo Sette
At five fifteen, I am at the door, waiting for Laney to return from work.
When I see her, she stops, leans over a trashcan, and vomits. I grab the small waste basket next to me and hurry toward her.
“Are you all right, signorina?”
She nods as she wipes her mouth, and then I help her walk into the building where she throws up three more times.
I pull a chair up to her. “Sit, signorina.”
Laney dry heaves into the can for what seems like forever. Then, when she tries to stand, she does it unsteadily.
“Signorina, sit.”
“I am so sorry about this. I’ll clean up the trashcan, I promise. I didn’t mean—”
Then I hear Valentina say, “Oh, my God, Laney, are you pregnant?”
I want to tell her how wrong she is for going against her brother’s wishes. Instead, I watch as she grabs the other trach can and puts it in front of
Laney, just in time. Then I watch as she pulls her hair back from her face. And then I listen in shock as she soothes her.
“It’s all right. Everything will be fine.”
It’s the sweetest I have ever seen her.
Then she says, “This is exactly what he needs,” and I am back to wanting to lock her in a fucking dungeon.
“I’m not pregnant.” Laney is shocked.
“You may be, though.” Valentina smiles at her. “I’m—”
“Valentina,” Laney finishes on a sigh.
“In the flesh.”
Laney looks up at me with questions in her eyes. I have no idea what to say to her. I’m sure she’s upset, and she’s sick to boot.
Valentina answers that unasked question. “My bodyguard. Our bodyguard. Franco, will you please do something with this can?”
“Of course, signorina.” I take the can outside shocked she said please, but realize it is because she has an audience.
When I return, they are inside the elevator. Valentina looks as happy as I have ever seen her, and Laney looks like a green deer in headlights.
“I won’t take no for an answer; it’s not in my blood.” Is the first thing I hear Valentina say to her before pulling the elevator door shut.
I want to yell at her, scold her, tell her to leave the poor woman alone. Tell her she should have honored her brother’s wishes.
But I can’t say a fucking thing. Not in front of Laney, anyway.
I pace in front of Laney’s apartment door until Valentina comes out. She jumps when she sees me.
“What are you doing?” she whisper-hisses.
“Your brother is going to be beyond upset with you, Valentina,” I snap.
“Oh, now it’s Valentina, not Signorina Segretti?” she huffs, walking past me and toward the elevator.
I follow her in. “When you fuck up like this, yes.”
She laughs. “How did I fuck up?”
“Loyalty. Your loyalty lies with Dominic. He asked you to stay away, and you didn’t.”
She smiles. “Dominic, huh?”
Holy shit, she’s not even arguing. I want her to fucking argue right now. Need her to.
“I’m being quite serious right fucking now.” I grab her wrist and turn her to face me. “Why do you do things like this? Why do you go against everything good in your life?”
Her smile is softer now as she looks up at me. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“I don’t do a fucking thing wrong, Valentina. I don’t …” I stop my rant when I realize how she’s looking at me. I have seen it many times before, but never when she was sober. “Are you drunk?”
She sighs and pulls her wrist away as she steps back. “Yes. Totally loaded.”
As the elevator stops on her floor, she steps out.
“When did you get that way?” I ask, pissed I missed something, something important. Valentina is much more uncontrollable when she’s drinking.
“I haven’t had a sip. Goodnight, Signore Protettore.”
When I get downstairs, my blood is boiling. I am so angry at her. Angry isn’t the word. Livid. I am livid.
After setting the alarms and deciding to put audio devices in Laney’s place when she goes to work in the morning, I take the hand-held walkie and head to my apartment to shower.
Naked under the water, I close my eyes and let the water fall over me. I see her. I see her as a child. Her as a spoiled, little bitch. Her in bed with two women. Her every fucking time she asked me to fuck her. And her while she’s been here. My cock twitches at the thought of a domestic Valentina, standing at the stove. Then that feeling fades when I think about her throwing out the food I had refused. Had she asked me again, I would have said yes. I harden again when I picture her taking care of another human being.
I grip my cock loosely then squeeze. Turning, I put my back to the wall and fucking see her all those times she asked me to fuck her. I squeeze my cock, angry at myself for thinking about her. Then I again think of her demanding I fuck her and pump harder, faster. I picture her with those women and can’t fucking help remembering the way they made a circle.
I fuck my hand, jerking it harshly now as I tighten my hold and close my eyes tighter. I am trying to picture them, the other two, but they are not fucking even there anymore. It’s her I see.
Her head rolled to her shoulder as I picture me eating her cunt, that bare, little pampered cunt as she cries out my name. I picture her telling me to be gentle as I thrust fully into her with my cock over and over again until she stops fucking telling me what to do.
I come when I think of her making me fucking dinner, not serving me shit she’s going to throw out. I come again when I picture her sucking my cock, taking it all and begging for my come. Then I come again when I picture her asleep in bed next to me so I don’t have to fucking sit up half the night, trying to listen to her breathing pattern, knowing it so fucking well, so I can fucking sleep until she wakes up and starts her shit all over again.
For a week, I watch Laney avoid Valentina, seeing sadness in those big brown eyes. I take a hell of a lot less pleasure in it, too.
Valentina wants to be her friend. She wants Laney to accept her, but Laney just can’t. Because, from what I have come to find out, Dominic was pushing the hell out of her, and she was scared to death of his promises, not trusting men. This is why he was giving her space. However, Valentina, whose intentions were actually pure this time, simply wanted to see him happy, and Laney, she seemed to be what was going to do that.
Love, or something like it.
On Friday, Valentina is in the lobby, waiting for Laney, I suppose. I’m surprised she hasn’t given up. Honestly, I’m a bit intrigued by the fact that this doesn’t seem to be a phase.
When I hear her on the phone, I just sit back and listen.
“Your friend threw up the other day,” she says in a bitchy tone.
As she listens to whatever Dominic says on the other end of the call, I see Laney walk in and almost get embarrassed for Valentina, but she sees her, too, and continues.
“I don’t know if she’s all right,” Valentina spits.
Laney walks past her, head down.
“She avoids me at all costs.”
I can’t help wanting to laugh at her passive-aggressive shit. All I ever get is aggressive.
“Of course she knows who I am.”
I watch as Laney hits the door to the elevator over and over again, no doubt wanting to disappear.
“What was I supposed to do, Dominic? Ignore the vomiting woman in the entry? She could very well be carrying my niece or nephew.”
Laney covers her mouth and spins around, looking at Valentina in shock.
“I hope she is, you stubborn ass. Then maybe you’ll call her.” She smirks as she holds her middle finger up at her phone.
I watch as Laney shakes her head, slightly amused.
“She hasn’t run for the hills … yet.”
She’s in full-on brat mode to her brother now, and it’s somewhat enchanting.
“You are a foolish man, Dominic. I can’t even talk to you. Goodbye.”
Laney steps into the elevator, shaking her head.
Valentina runs toward it. “Wait up! Are you going to call him?” she asks Laney, putting her hand on her hip, looking her up and down.
“No,” Laney whispers.
“Tell me why. He’s very handsome, strong, hardworking. I assume he treated you right in private situations.”
I almost laugh out loud as Laney palms her face while Valentina shuts the elevator door.
I listen to them as they enter Laney’s apartment, watching the screen of the walkie.
“He’s not interested?” Valentina gasps. “He’s more than interested. Look around. He did this for you. He—”
“I never asked for this. I am actively looking for another place—”
“Because he owns the building?” Valentina sounds shocked.
“That, and because he didn�
�t cash the check for the rent. I’m not …” Laney pauses. “I’m not going to be someone’s plaything. I’m independent. I’m working so I can make it on my own. I’m—”
“He’ll buy the next building, too,” Valentina says, and I hear a smile in her voice.
“That’s unfair. That’s so unfair. I am so damn sick of crying! I’m sick of all this. I just want to be left alone. He’s with Jules! I am trying to take this whole thing as just a thing, you know? And if I don’t feel bad enough about myself for sleeping with someone, and thinking I felt something for someone who … who—is with Jules! He certainly reminds me of what a whore I seem to be, buying my apartment building. I—”
I hear a phone ring, and she stops crying. It’s a cell, and not Valentina’s. Then I hear a slam and it stops ringing.
When it rings again, I hear Valentina say, “What do you want?” She pauses. “You’re with Jules DeLuca?” Jules is Benito’s wife. Valentina continues, “Well, you know I’m with Laney on this one, brother.” After that, I hear her say in a different voice, “I can’t believe I just did that,” and assume she must have hung up on her brother. That assumption proves true at what I hear next.
When the phone rings again, I hear Laney answer. “Hello?” Then Laney gasps, “Oh, my God, no! I’m not pregnant!”
I reach up and turn off the audio.
Jesus Christ, that poor man. Two women!
I almost laugh at myself because, for many years, two have been my preference. It dawns on me that I am one lucky son of a bitch that it was never two whose hearts got tangled up in it, just the sheets.
I expect to see the monitor blip with Valentina’s exit. When it doesn’t, I turn the audio back on.
I hear Valentina ask, “You love him?”
“Valentina, I have no idea what love is. I only know that the feelings I have for him are strong and not always pleasant.”
“He’s in love with you.”
Silence.
Jesus Christ, Valentina, I think as I now palm my face, embarrassed for all involved.
“No, he hasn’t said the words, but he does, Laney. I know he does.”
“Doesn’t matter. It would never work.”
