Page 94 of The Hidden Heir

They both nod and leave me to my devices, except that my devices result in a fit of rage, and I end up trashing the room altogether. Everything within my reach is destroyed.

No matter how many breaths I take, I still feel like I’m suffocating, like I’m about to pass out and lose myself in the madness of her absence.

I don’t know for how long I unravel. Time loses all sense and direction until my phone rings and Caroline’s name appears on the screen.

Panting and sweating, red-faced and shivering with raw emotion, I give it a couple of rings before I’m able to slide my finger over to take her call. Even then, my voice is barely a raspy whisper, a tortured cry for help.

“Caroline,” I manage.

“Luca, we need to talk about Valentina.”

28

VALENTINA

The hot water pours over my naked body, and I welcome the heat seeping into my skin. It doesn’t do much to clear my mind or to fully relax me, but it takes some of the edge off, at least for a few moments. I’m tired, having barely slept last night, but Michael is well rested and calm.

I got lucky with the very nice motel receptionist who brought a portable playpen for Michael. I can hear Michael playing in it, safe and sound while I shower.

“Mama will be right out, sweetie,” I tell him again when he gets a little antsy and calls for me.

The bathroom is small but reasonably clean. I get out, wrap myself in a towel, and take a look in the mirror above the old-timey porcelain sink.

My face looks tired. It echoes a broken heart.

I put on a smile for Michael and go back into the room, only to freeze in the bathroom doorway at the sight before me. Victor is holding my son in his arms, holding him close and smiling, as my boy fiddles with his beard, cooing delightedly. Luca sits on the edge of the bed, looking at me with muted rage—until his gaze softens slightly.

“Luca, Victor…” I mumble, suddenly cold.

“Victor, would you mind taking Michael back to the house? My wife and I have a few things to talk about,” Luca says.

He’s calm, too calm, unnervingly so.

Maybe if he got angry, smashing things like he did last night in his study, I would feel less awful about leaving him. Maybe I’d find a way to stay strong and determined to cut this bond forever. But Luca just lets out a heavy sigh as Victor nods and looks to me.

I nod, knowing this conversation needs to happen, and I do not want my son to be here when it does.

As he steps out, Victor gives me a reassuring smile. “We’ll be waiting for you there, Valentina.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

The door closes behind Victor, and Luca stands.

“I’m not going to apologize,” I say, raising my chin in defiance.

“Do you realize how dangerous this was?”

His voice is low, almost a growl. He doesn’t move, though. His eyes drill holes into my soul, and I feel naked and helpless before him, water still dripping down my bare shoulders.

“It was a risk I was willing to take,” I reply, “to try and get my son as far away from this life as I could. I just needed to cross state lines, and then⁠—”

“And then what?” he snaps, shaking the entire room around us. “Then what?” he asks again, regaining his self-control. “You and Michael would live happily ever after? Forever safe? Away from the Mancusos and me?”

“That was the plan, yes.”

“Did you really think leaving Illinois would stop me from coming after you?”

“I hoped it would at least make it harder for you and for whoever is trying to kill me to find us,” I admit. “Clearly, I was wrong.”