Page 47 of The Hidden Heir

14

VALENTINA

Afew days later, I decide to take matters into my own hands.

If the Grant Park incident was my stepfather’s doing, I cannot sit idly by. I’m done with mind games and the threat of terror against me and against my son. I’m done bearing the cross of generations—it was never mine to carry, nor was it Michael’s.

Eddie pulls over outside a café near Morgan, looking out the passenger window.

“Is this it?” he asks.

“Yes. Thank you for doing this, Eddie,” I tell him.

“It’s the only way the boss was ever going to let you out of the house,” he replies. “You go in, and I’ll slip into the side alley before I join you.”

I smile at him. “Sure. Just stay out of sight, please. It’s a little weird walking around with a tower-sized man who looks like he might kill anyone who even tries to come near me.”

“That’s the whole point, but it’s alright. I get it,” he says with a chuckle. “I’ll be close by.”

“And Luca? Where is he now?” I ask.

“Last I checked, he was wrapping something up at the office. He wasn’t too happy about you going out to meet with Caroline on your own, but he appreciates your relationship with her. Whatever helps bring the families closer together, I guess,” Eddie says. “Victor convinced him to give you some room to breathe, Miss Petrucci. And frankly, I agree. You can’t be cooped up in that mansion all day long.”

“I cannot express how much it means to me to hear you say that, Eddie.”

I nod, then get out of the car. As per our usual safety protocols, I look both ways along the sidewalk, checking for anything that might seem out of place. Nothing stands out, so I go into the café with my head up and my senses sharp, quickly sweeping my gaze around the room, analyzing it.

Eddie watches me from the car.

Caroline gets up from one of the tables closest to the window. She looks beautiful in a floral pattern dress, her dark blonde hair loosely gathered into a bun at the nape of her neck.

“Hey there, little sister,” she says, lowering her head ever so slightly.

The café looks clean and fairly empty. Some of the tables are occupied, but the patrons are either moms with kids or judging by their laptops and flash cards, college grads from next door, looking for a caffeine fix before their exams. It smells like coffee and cinnamon and freshly baked pastries.

The milk frothing nozzle gurgles continuously while the barista prepares a latte to go. Life seems pretty normal when I forget that I’m from the mob world. I take a deep breath and sit down at Caroline’s table.

“Hey there, big sister,” I reply. “I’m glad you agreed to meet me here.”

“Trust me, I want us to find a resolution, too. Things are getting out of control,” Caroline says. “Our old man is like a stubborn mule. And I had no idea about the gift he delivered to your wedding reception, by the way.”

“Oh.”

She leans forward, her brow furrowed. “I mean it, Valentina. I need you to believe me. I don’t know whom he bribed to sneak that box in there, but it wasn’t me. I swear it.”

“I believe you.”

“That being said, I’m sorry for being so bitchy,” Caroline says and huffs out a sigh. “I did feel kind of bitter, I’ll admit, thinking I was going to get married and then having the rug pulled out from under me. I confess, it messed with my head a little, and I took it out on you. I’m so sorry.”

I cover her hand on the table with mine, desperate for some semblance of sibling affection between us. “It’s okay. I get it. It couldn’t have been easy for you,” I tell her. “For what it’s worth, I wasn’t exactly keen about the whole getting married thing either. I had found some peace and quiet in Calumet City, and then Luca⁠—”

“Saved you,” Caroline cuts in. “Whether you’re ready to admit it or not, he saved you. Had Papa found you first, I don’t think he would’ve reacted as kindly, given the extent that you bruised his ego.”

Once the barista brings our drinks over, Caroline and I seem to relax slightly. Whether it’s the atmosphere or the vanilla pump in our lattes, I’m not sure. But we seem to ease into the conversation more smoothly than ever before. I look around, and I don’t see Eddie at a first glance. Part of me hopes he’s actually nearby and that I’m still in his line of sight. In Luca’s absence, he’s my protector.

“How’s Luca treating you?” Caroline asks. With nimble fingers, she tears open a packet of Lotus Biscoff biscuits.

“Luca? Oh, he’s a good man. He’s kind and generous. Things are good,” I reply. “It’s going better than I thought it would, to be honest.”