Page 32 of Mafia Don's Secret Heir
Luca looks up from his plate, his green eyes flicking between us. There’s a trace of curiosity there, but he doesn’t intervene. Not yet.
Donna Maria sets her cup down, the delicate clink of porcelain loud in the quiet room. “Valentina, this house is not a place for idle visitors. Every guest brings risk, distraction.” She leans back slightly, her gaze narrowing. “I’m sure you understand.”
It takes everything I have not to flinch. Her words are calculated, each one a subtle reminder of my precarious place in this world. “She’s not a risk,” I say, my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest. “She’s my friend. And I want her here.”
The tension snaps taut, a thread pulled to its breaking point. Donna Maria tilts her head, her sharp gaze cutting through me. “Want,” she echoes, the word dripping with disdain. “You’ve been given much, Valentina. Be careful how often you reach for more.”
Anger flares in my chest, hot and unwelcome. I force myself to meet her gaze, unwilling to back down. “I’m not asking for much. I’m just asking for my friend.”
The air feels like it’s freezing, each second dragging out into eternity. Then, slowly, Donna Maria turns her gaze to Luca, a silent appeal for support.
Luca exhales deeply, his irritation palpable. He sets his fork down and looks at me, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I wonder if he’ll take her side, if he’ll shut me down with the same calm finality he’s used to control everything else in my life. But then he speaks. “Valentina should be allowed tohave her friends over,” he says simply, as if that’s all that needs to be said.
If anything, this lowers my resolve all the more. He’s trusting me. But maybe he’s also waiting to see what I do. My lower lip trembles slightly. Donna Maria stiffens, her displeasure evident in the thin line of her lips. But she doesn’t argue. She inclines her head slightly, a begrudging acknowledgment of Luca’s authority.
“As you wish,” she says, her voice clipped.
The moment passes, but the tension lingers. I force myself to take another bite of yogurt, the honey suddenly too sweet. Luca resumes eating as if nothing has happened, but there’s a faint, almost imperceptible curve to his lips.
I can’t tell if it’s approval or amusement. Donna Maria excuses herself not long after, her heels clicking sharply against the floor as she leaves the room. The sound echoes, and with it, some of the tension dissipates.
Luca excuses himself to make a quick phone call. When he comes back, he simply looks at me, his gaze lingering for a moment before he turns back to his plate. “She’ll be here soon,” he says, almost casually.
“Thank you,” I manage, not trusting myself to say anything else.
He doesn’t reply, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression, something that makes my heart stumble in a way I’m not ready to examine. The breakfast ends, but the weight of what’s been said—and unsaid—stays with me. I decide to take a walk in the estate gardens.
A lush expanse of manicured hedges and vibrant flowers welcome me, petals swaying lazily in the afternoon breeze. Birds chatter in the distance, and the soft hum of insects fills the spaces between their calls. It's the kind of place that could lull someone into a false sense of peace.
About half an hour later, a guard comes to tell me Sofia has arrived. I ask him to send her to me. Moments later, she arrives, coming to walk beside me, her heels crunching lightly against the gravel path. Her smile is pleasant, almost too pleasant, the kind of mask you learn to wear when you’ve grown up around people who thrive on power plays and deception. But I know her better than that. There’s tension in the set of her shoulders, a tightness to her jaw. She feels the weight of this place, the eyes that are always watching.
We reach a secluded spot under a trellis heavy with wisteria. The blossoms hang in delicate clusters, their soft purple hue incongruous with the storm brewing inside me. I glance back toward the estate. No one followed us. At least, I hope no one did.
Sofia stops, turning to face me with a practiced smile. “It’s beautiful here,” she says, her voice light. If I didn’t know her, I’d say she was happy for me. “Practically a palace.”
I don’t smile back. “Do you really mean that?” I ask.
Her smile falters, replaced by a flicker of concern. “Valentina...”
“Sofia,” I cut in, my tone sharper than I intended. I soften it, glancing around once more to make sure we’re alone. “If things go south—if it all falls apart—I need your help to escape. No one else can know about this. I need a way out that no one will expect.”
The lightness of moments before evaporate. Sofia’s brows knit together, her lips parting as though to protest, but she doesn’t. Instead, she studies me, her sharp eyes taking in every detail of my face.
“Escape?” she says finally, her voice panicked. “Valentina, do you even know what you’re asking?”
“I do,” I say firmly, though my stomach twists into knots. “I’m not saying—” The words die in my throat.What am I saying? Do I really want to run?
“Do you want to get out of here?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. There are times when I don’t, and times when I do. I just—I need to have that option.”
Her concern deepens, but she doesn’t argue. Instead, she glances toward the estate, her gaze lingering on the towering windows that seem to loom over everything. “Do you really think you can get away from someone like him?”
I swallow hard. “I don’t know. But if I stay here and don’t have a plan, I’ll lose myself completely. I can’t let that happen, Sofia. I need you.”
Sofia steps closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “If you’re caught, Val, it won’t just be you. They’ll come after anyone who helped you. Including me.”
I nod, my throat tight. “I know. That’s why no one else can know. It’s just you and me.”
