Page 29 of The Hidden Heir

Finally, the shadow of admission flutters in his eyes. It's brief and ephemeral, but it's there. I recognize it.

"Luca didn't know what he was dealing with either at first," he says. "And Luca has had several of Stefano's messes to clean up since his passing. Finding out about you was a blow. And when a Petrucci man is in damage-control mode⁠—"

"I was the damage he needed to control."

"Maybe for a moment," Victor says, his eyes meeting mine. "You need to understand something, Valentina. Luca is a good man. In many ways, and may God forgive me, a better man than his brother ever was."

"Forgive me, Victor, but I have a hard time believing that right now."

"I can imagine. You're being forced into a difficult situation, but even you have to admit the only other option will likely lead to trouble and tragedy. You know Mauro will stop at nothing to get to you purely out of spite."

"Spite?"

Victor takes a deep breath and walks over to the window, slowly gathering his thoughts. "I warned Luca about this, too, long before he even found you and Michael."

"About what?" I ask.

"About the motive behind Mancuso's desire to bring Michael into his family. He may claim it's because he desperately wants a male heir, but I think it runs deeper and darker with the old bastard. I think he wants to take Michael away from the Petruccis more than he wants Michael to be a Mancuso, if that makes sense."

The idea sends a cold rush through my veins.

More than once, I'd thought about it, as well. When Stefano and I began our tryst, he committed an unspeakable sin against my stepfather's grand pride and so-called honor. Leaving me with child humiliated the Mancusos as a whole. I remember the words spoken in anger the night I left.

And I feared the decisions that would follow in the morning.

Which is why I left.

"I feel like a tool the Petruccis and the Mancusos somehow feel justified to use," I tell Victor. "It's not fair to me, and it's not fair to Michael either. We deserve peace and safety. A family unit of our own, away from all of this."

"I can't blame you for feeling this way. But Luca⁠—"

The conversation is cut short as Luca has a hard look on his face as he walks in. I freeze with Michael's mini tuxedo in my hands, and Victor straightens his back and slowly raises his chin.

"The dress will be delivered shortly," Luca says. "Raquel will be in first thing in the morning to help you get ready for the ceremony."

I can't help but roll my eyes at him. "Whatever."

"It's happening," he says.

"Okay."

Luca eyes Victor. "Can you give us a moment?"

"Sure," Victor casually replies, as he gives me one last smile of gentle reassurance. "Mind if I take Michael out in the garden for a bit? We'll meet you downstairs for breakfast when you're ready."

"Thank you," I reply with a nod.

I watch Victor as he gingerly picks up my boy and walks out. Michael seems comfortable with him, and it causes a deep pain in the center of my heart—because I cannot, for the life of me, imagine my stepfather being as sweet or as warm with my son.

"I don't expect you to jump for joy regarding tomorrow," Luca says when we're left alone.

"But?" I ask with a raised eyebrow. "Do you expect me to smile and be nice about it?"

"I expect you to be civil," he replies, a hint of humor burning in his hazel eyes.

I'm briefly distracted by the specks of silver in his short beard. His features are more refined and elegant than Stefano's.

"I promise to be civil in the sense that I won't hurl anything at your head," I reply.