Page 78 of Veil of Vengeance

“I’m sorry,amore,” Emiliano whispers in my ear, low enough just for me to hear, and I feel tears welling in my eyes. He doesn’t get to call me that when he’s giving me back.

I force myself to swallow the knot that had formed in my throat as he throws me toward my Dad. Dad’s hands grip me by my upper arms, and he shoves me toward Angelo and Giovanni. I stumble, but Angelo catches me.

“Angelo, take Valentina to the other car and make sure they get her out of here” my Dad orders. I bite my tongue to stop myself from arguing. I let Angelo drag me to the other car, and I try to resist looking back, but once I reach the car door and it opens for me to get inside, I rebel. Emiliano’s icy eyes meet mine, and they soften a fraction before his face hardens and his eyes flick back to my Dad’s.

I swallow and bend my head to slide into the car, the cool leather seats gliding against my warm skin. The car door slams and the silence envelops me into its bitter arms. The guards join me, one besides me, one in the front passenger seat, and one driving. I look to where Emiliano, Romiro, and Dominico are standing to find all of them staring at my Dad with their guns drawn as they watch him get back in his car. As the car begins to move, everything outside becomes a whirl of dull colors as I try to decipher what is what.

The sound of the air conditioner fills the private jet as we step onto it. We’d reached New Jersey state half an hour ago, and once we stepped out the cars, Dad hadn’t spoken one word to me. My palms feel slick as my anxiety worsens over the next couple of minutes. I settle into one of the seats and Dad’s guard stands waiting for him to do the same.

Dad’s narrowed eyes flicker to me before he settles into his seat and leans back, asking for the flight attendant. “Get me some scotch, no ice.”

I lean back in my seat, my muscles all scrunched up and are wound so tight that I think I might snap any second. I stay like that the whole ride back to Chicago, anticipating Dad’s wrath, but it never comes, not when we’re in the jet, not when we’re in the car on our way to our house, and not when we enter the house. Mom, Violette, Monica, Marcello, and Nonna all stand in front of the door. Their faces are full of hope, but something broken lingers in their eyes. I run to Mom, who holds her arms open and squeezes me in her embrace.

I feel everyone else joins in, even Nonna, and Marcello hugs my legs. All the tears that I had bottled up come pouring out of me as an ugly sob leaves my lips. Mom’s shoulders shake as she buries her face in my hair.

“I was…I was so scared that I’ll never see you alive.” Her voice breaks, and she pulls back her palms, cradling my face as she scans me from head to toe for any injuries.

“Valentina, my sweet girl. Those barbarians didn’t torture you, did they?” Nonna’s voice is full of disgust as she speaks about “them,” as if they’re not the same as us.

“No, Nonna they…they didn’t torture me.” I decide against telling my family that, instead of torturing me, they treated me with kindness and respect.

“Let the girl breathe. I’m going to my office,” I hear Dad grumble as he heads up the stairs, his steps echoing around the large entrance hall.

“Come along, we need to get you ready for when you meet your fiancé and his family in a couple of days.” Nonna pulls me from Mom’s embrace as she drags me toward the stairs.

Fiancé…I don’t want a fiancé, not the one my family had chosen for me. I look back and see that Lottie looks dejected and Mon whispers in her ear. Marcello looks at us, his eyes still haunted. Mom just stands there, her face sagging. She looks as exhausted and ill as ever. Nothing has changed…but me.

By dinnertime, Nonna finally decides to let me go to my room. I close the door behind me, and a yelp leaves my lips as I turn to find Violette sitting in one of my chairs. I rush to her, and we collapse into an embrace, both of us silently crying as we feel the despair of the last couple of weeks.

“I didn’t think that I…” Her breath catches as she tries to stop crying to get her words out. “I didn’t think I would see you again. Everyone was saying that the Camorristas are all monsters and that you weren’t going to come back.”

I swallow the urge to admit the truth to Lottie, and instead choose to stay silent, even as the guilt eats at my insides. She pulls back and grasps my hands, pulling me toward the two chairs facing each other.

“Did anything happen while I was gone? Did Dad hurt you guys?” I ask her, and she shakes her head.

“No, he was too busy freaking the fuck out and killing a bunch of people for the shitty security that night.” Her blue eyes bounce around the room before coming back to me, her lips rolling together.

“I also got…” she trails off and I grab her hands.

“What? What did you get?” I ask. Her hands shake slightly in mine before she squeezes mine and pulls back.

“I got engaged to one of Dad’s business partners.”

I grit my teeth, feeling responsible for this predicament that Violette got placed in.

“How old is he?” I ask. Her nonchalant face doesn’t trick me. I know she’s nervous.

“He’s twenty-three. His name is Massimo.” She gives me a small smile.

“Have you spoken to him? Is he nice to you?” I ask her, and the tops of her ears turn a light pink, which gives her away.

“Yeah, I guess you can say he’s nice.” Her fingers twirl around each other. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my sister visibly nervous.

A loud bang hits my door, making us jump, and Nonna shouts, “Come down for dinner!” We huff a laugh before making our way downstairs.

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