Page 77 of Veil of Vengeance

His breath ghosts the shell of my ear as he rasps, “All done.”

I do what feels like the most impossible thing in the universe and step away from Emiliano. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes for a second before opening them and turning around. Emiliano’s hands are clenched at his sides, but his face gives away nothing.

He opens his mouth to say something, but he clamps it shut and heads toward the door of the hallway. I hurry behind him, taking a step back when he abruptly stops in front of the door, his hand on the knob in a death grip.

He inhales sharply before opening the door, then we make our way out of the house and down the steps.

I spot Romiro and a tall, large man stands next to him. Once we get closer, I notice that the man has curly dark hair and his eyes are the color of whiskey, his skin tan but his face pale; a scar running down his cheek adds to his dangerous aura and his arm is in a cast. Even though he is laughing, something dark lurks in his eyes and red rims around them that make him look sick.

Emiliano comes to a stop next to them, clapping each other on their backs. I stop a couple of steps away, cautious and suspicious. Romiro looks at me and gives me a small smile with a wink. I return his smile with a weak one.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the most beautiful girl in the Outfit.” The gravel crunches beneath the man’s steps as he comes closer to me. I notice he has a strong alcoholic smell. Clenching my fists, I try to stop them from shaking. “I’m Dominico Folonari, Consigliere and cousin of Eli,” he introduces himself, extending his hand, and I just watch it. My eyes flicker to Romiro’s and Emiliano’s faces, finding them both watching us with strained looks. I shake his hand, not wanting to be rude, and he squeezes my palm before letting it go. I rub it, trying to soothe the pulsing pain.

“Leave her alone, Dom. It’s not her fault her ass of a cousin put you in a coma,” Romiro says. He scowls, turning to look at Romiro.

“Mind your fucking business, Esposito,” Dominico growls.

“Enough. You get in the car, and you two get in the other car.” Emiliano points at me first. Pressing my lips together to stop myself from snapping at him, I open the backseat door, when his hand slams it shut. “You’re sitting in the front.”

My nose scrunches in disdain, but I do what he wants. They speak in hushed voices, but the car door muffles what they’re saying even more.

I lean my head on the window and watch them. My breath catches in my throat when Emiliano’s face breaks out in a genuine smile, and he laughs at something Romiro said. I face forward and avoid looking at them again until he opens the car door, and the smell of musk and cinnamon fills the space.

We sit in silence for a couple of seconds before Emiliano shifts and starts the car ignition, but the car doesn’t move. The driver's window rolls down, and I can see from the corner of my eye that Romiro is in another car with his arm resting on the door, window rolled down. They mutter something to each other before Romiro drives down the gravel driveway toward the gates.

The car finally moves, and Emiliano drives in silence.

“Are you not going to blindfold me?” I ask as we speed past the gate’s entrance, Emiliano ignoring me. I sigh and look out the window. I’m surprised to find more houses in a similar style to the Folonari’s house, all far apart with acres separating them. I guess when I tried to escape, I left from a different street.

“No. The Outfit isn’t stupid enough to risk breaching my territory twice, and even if they try, they won’t know where to go, because you don’t even know which part of New Hampshire this is.”

He’s right. I’m not exactly the biggest fan of geography; I prefer history anyway. The drive is long, and we both refuse to talk to each other, tense air filling the silence. Soon, my eyelids begin to feel heavy, and I keep yawning every two seconds. I’ll just close my eyes for a bit.

?The car comes to a sudden halt, and I jolt up, looking around.

“Well, that was fast.” Emiliano huffs out an amused breath, and I turn to him, narrowing my eyes.

“What?” I ask. He shakes his head, a small smirk on his lips.

“You slept for four hours,” he tells me. My eyes widen, and he laughs at my reaction before opening his door.

“Stay in here and don’t get out until I come to get you.”

I look out the window and see that we’ve stopped at some sort of parking lot that’s surrounded by warehouses. Romiro and Dominico are both leaning on the car they came in, positioned diagonally to the one I’m in. I fight the urge to get out of the car and instead wait.

The three men stand near the car I’m in, but only Romiro and Dominico have a gun drawn in their hands. Two cars come creeping in from the other side of the parking lot and stop a couple of inches away.

I hold my breath as the car door opens and my Dad steps out, in a suit, his gray hair slicked back and his belly protruding over his black dress pants. The other car doors fling open, and four bodyguards pile out and stand close to Dad with guns drawn.

Behind him, the passenger door opens, and Angelo steps out of the car next, swiftly walking to the trunk. The driver's door also swings open and Dad’s other guard follows Angelo.

I cover my mouth with my palm as Angelo and Giovanni pull out a tied man with a black bag over his head. They drop him in front of Emiliano’s feet. Dad’s mouth moves, but I can’t hear anything from this far and the car door doesn’t help either.

Romiro steps forward and grabs the bag off the tied man’s head. I gasp into my palm, watching a beat-up Giuseppe slowly blink up at the three men above him. Emiliano turns to the car I’m in and walks toward it, my heart suddenly flying to my throat at what’s coming.

He flings the passenger door open and pulls me out by the arm. I wince at the force of his grip, which he notices and loosens it.

“Valentina.” I fight the urge to hurl at the fake tone Dad uses when he says my name.

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