Page 23 of His Obsession
Matteo stops talking when he finally realizes I’m not listening. He follows my line of sight, then exhales softly through his nose.
“Well, well, well.” He smirks. “If it isn’t Valentina.”
I do not look at him. “Don’t start.”
“Don’t start what, cousin?” he asks, annoyingly. “You’re the one who said never go there. That she’s your best friend’s sister and it would be bad form. I took that advice to heart, but it seems like you were just eliminating the competition.”
He’s being good-natured about it, but the barb lands anyway. He’s right. I warned him off her and still let myself catch feelings.
I take a sip of my drink and force my attention back to him. It lasts about two seconds before my eyes drift again.
Valentina is still laughing. Her friend says something and Val swats her arm with the back of her hand, smiling now in a way I haven’t seen nearly enough. It changes her whole face, brightening it. I’ve spent weeks watching her manage rooms, staff, details, pressure, all of it with that controlled competence of hers. Seeing her let go for even a minute is unbearably distracting.
Matteo is still smirking. “You capable of stringing together full sentences, or are you just planning to stare at her all night?”
I glare at him. “You’re in excellent form tonight.”
“I’m always in excellent form.” He lifts his glass. “I’m just saying, she came to a club she knows you own. Maybe your forbidden love isn’t so one-sided.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not in love with her.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Go talk to her. Invite her to the VIP lounge. What could it possibly hurt?”
I set my drink down and stand up.
Matteo’s mouth twitches. “Atta boy!” he whoops.
I ignore him and head out of the lounge before he can get worse.
The floor is thick with people, though the crowd parts easily for me. I’m not sure if it’s because people recognize me, or I’ve just become so good at navigating crowds that I don’t notice the pushback anymore.
Val sees me before I reach her. I know the exact moment because the smile on her face falters. It doesn’t disappear, but it tightens, settling into something more guarded. More aware. Her friend follows her gaze, spots me, and dissolves into full, delighted amusement, one hand over her mouth like she’s trying and failing not to enjoy herself.
I stop in front of them.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” I say.
“Sebastian DeLuca.” Her friend is still visibly trying not to laugh. “What a surprise to run into you. At this club you own.”
Val smacks her arm.
“This is my friend Gia,” she offers. “My very drunk, very annoying friend.”
“A pleasure,” I say, offering her my hand.
She breaks out into another fit of giggles.
“I like him,” she tries to whisper to Val, though she fails miserably at the whispering part.
Val lifts her glass. “Yeah, he’s a real charmer,” she says, dry as bone.
Her eyes flick up to mine. There’s challenge there. Wariness, too.
“Are you enjoying yourselves?” I ask, feeling suddenly, painfully awkward.
Gia answers before Val can. “Very much.”
Val shoots her a look.
