Page 6 of Days Of Valentino

“She’s our granddaughter, Theo. She’s welcome here anytime.”

There’s a light knock on my door and then my niece walks in. “Pops, I gotta go. Talk to you later.” I hang up and set the phone down. “Tilly, everything okay?” It’s not like her to just pop into my office for a visit.

“Uh-huh, I just wanted to see my favorite uncle.” She smiles at me.

“Favorite, huh?” I laugh.Yeah, the kid definitely wants something.

“Yep.” Tilly leans down and kisses my cheek. “I was thinking of making a big purchase and I wanted your opinion.”

“Okay. What are you buying?”

“A house.” She smiles at me with excitement sparkling in her eyes.

“A house? Didn’t you just move in with that boyfriend of yours?” I ask her, then add hopefully, “Come to your senses already and dump his ass?”

My niece is dating the Don of the Gambino family. It’s a relationship my brothers and I aren’t too thrilled about.

“No. I want to buy a house for us. Antonio and me. His house is full of… ghosts,” she says.

“Okay. So, what do you need my help with?”

“Will you come and look at some properties with me? I need to know if they’re a good fit for you know… a Don. Security wise and all that. Figured you were the best person to ask.”

“Of course, send me the details and I’ll be there,” I tell her.

“Thanks, Zio Theo. You’re the best.” She throws her arms around my neck, placing another kiss on my cheek before pivoting on her heel to leave.

“Tilly?” I call out after her, and she stops. “Whose money are we spending on this house? Yours orhis?”

Tilly’s smile widens. “Antonio’s,” she says. “He’d have a fit if I bought anything with my own money. Sometimes I think he forgets I’m just as well off as he is. He insists on paying for everything.”

As he fucking should.I don’t say that aloud. I just nod, watching my niece walk out the door before she disappears down the hallway.

Episode Three

I’m supposed to be retired. Why the fuck am I still getting calls from everyone?

I’ve just hung up with one of my middle sons, Matteo. He wants me to have a little sit down with his youngest child. I laughed and told him to deal with Aurora’s crazy ass himself.

Apparently, he found a box in her room full of fake IDs and credit cards. When he asked her about them, her response was and, I quote:They’re precautionary, in case I ever need them.

When I heard that, I laughed even harder.

I’m not sure why the fuck he thinks me having a sit down with her will do any good now. That girl is set in her ways. And, honestly, she’s not fucking wrong. It doesn’t hurt to be prepared. I’ve had passports, cash, bank accounts, new identities for my entire family locked in a safe in my office since I first found Holly. I have the documents updated annually.

I love all my grandchildren equally—okay, maybe Tilly a little more than the others. But she’s the only one whose first word wasNonno. The others are all traitors in that department.

Aurora, though? I see myself in that girl more than anyone else.

She fights hard and loves even harder. I know she comes across as reckless. And believe me, she’s scared the fuck out of me with her antics a few times over the years. But she’s a Valentino through and through. The problem with her is she inherited her mother’s looks.

Add beauty and crazy together and you end up with a lethal fucking weapon. It’s true that a beautiful woman can get shit done. Take Angelica, for example. There is no hitman I’ve ever encountered who’s better at the job of taking someone out than my sister. Why? Because people underestimate beautiful women.

They don’t expect the cold-blooded killer instincts that run through the Valentino bloodline to live within the females too. If it were up to me, I’d lock all the girls away. Somewhere this cruel fucking world can’t reach them. Of course, if I even attempted to do that, my wife would have my balls in a glass jar.

Against my better judgement, I pick up my phone and dial my granddaughter. I know I told Matteo to deal with his owndemon offspring, but I can’t sit back and not do something when one of my boys asks for help. Same goes for any of my grandchildren.

“Nonno, hey.” My granddaughter’s sweet sugary voice fills the room through the speaker on my phone.

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