Page 71 of Beneath the Shadows

Valentino

I’m still baskingin the afterglow of last week’s victory. Antonio’s party was a smashing success. It was exactly what I needed to show not only my new associates but also rival families that the ComisoFamigliais the most powerful family in Philadelphia. No. We’re the most powerful family on the East Coast.

Everything about this house is a testament to my influence. I stop at the top of the grand staircase and glance down at the marble-floored foyer just in time to see Alessia step inside with Dante trailing behind her.

They’ve been going on thesewalksmore often, each one longer than the last. What they don’t know is I’ve been having them followed. My wife has been lying to me, and that ends now. I’ll deal with Dante later.

“Alessia,” I call out, my voice echoing.

She glances up, eyes wary. “Yes?”

“I want to speak to you in my office,” I demand, my tone leaving no room for negotiation.

“I was hoping to edit the photos I took today,” she replies, a slight hesitation in her voice.

“Bring your camera,” I say, walking down the stairs toward her. “I’d like to see what you’ve captured today as well.” She exchanges a worried look with Dante. “Now, Alessia.”

“Yes, Valentino,” she responds quietly, before turning to walk toward my office.

Loyalty is paramount, and any hint of disloyalty must be snuffed out swiftly. My father’s death was the stroke of luck I needed to seize control. After that, Marco was the next threat—one I eliminated. And I’ll continue rooting out potential traitors until only the loyal and devoted remain.

“And you,” I bark at Dante. “Don’t go far. I’ll need to speak with you after I’ve dealt with my wife.” I turn on my heel not waiting for a response.

The door to my office is open when I arrive. Alessia stands by the window, camera in hand, her posture stiff.

This is my domain. From the dark wood panels lining the walls to the massive black walnut desk, this room oozes luxury and power. I sit down, leaning back as I observe her.

“Show me,” I order.

She hesitates before walking over and placing the camera on my desk. I pick it up and begin scrolling through the images. They’re good, I’ll give her that. But this isn’t about her talent—it’s about control.

“These are impressive,” I say my tone deceptively calm. “But it seems you’ve been busy in other ways too.”

Her eyes widen slightly. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean,” I drawl. “Your little photography hobby. Taking pictures, selling them at a gallery. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

Her face pales, but she stands her ground. “It’s just a hobby, Valentino. Something to pass the time.”

“A hobby?” I let out a cold, mocking laugh. “I didn’t give you permission to pretend you’re some kind of artist selling your pictures.”

Her eyes flash with defiance, rare but intriguing. “It’s something I enjoy. Something that’s mine.”

I rise from my chair, walking around the desk to stand over her. “You enjoy it? Did you enjoy the attention it brought? The people who saw your name? Your face?”

“It’s not like that,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

“It’s exactly like that.” I grab her chin, forcing her to look at me. “I won’t have my wife making a fool out of me by sneaking around behind my back.”

“I just wanted some freedom,” she pleads. “Something of my own.”

“Freedom?” I slam my hand down on the desk, making her flinch. “Your freedom is what I allow you. Nothing more.”

Tears spill over her cheeks, but she blinks them away. “I’m sorry, Valentino.”

“It’s too late for sorry,” I snap. “From now on, you’re forbidden from going anywhere with Dante. I’ll reassign you a new guard—someone I can trust. And your little photography sessions? They’re over. Do you understand?”

“I’ll stop going to the gallery,” she begs, her voice breaking. “But please, let me keep taking pictures.”

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