Page 86 of Valentino

"Since your lover is, by some unfortunate mistake, sitting in a cell right now, I suggest you shut the fuck up and stop talking to me."

Your lover.

I stare at him.

For a second, I honestly don't know what he's talking about.

Then it clicks.

Elio.

That's what this is.

Of all the conclusions he could have reached, that's the one he chose.

"Luca," Valentino says. His voice is calm now. "Pull over.”

Luca eases the car onto the shoulder.

Valentino opens the rear door.

Cold air rushes in. Diesel. Wet pavement. The distant growl of a truck somewhere behind us.

He doesn't look at me.

Doesn't hesitate.

He gets out, shuts the door with a quiet click, and walks around to the passenger side.

The front door opens.

Closes.

A second later he's in the seat beside Luca, adjusting the broken headrest like nothing happened.

Luca pulls back onto the road.

And suddenly I'm alone in the backseat.

I stare at the back of Valentino's head.

Five minutes ago, his hand was in mine.

Now he won't even look at me.

I defended Elio because none of this makes sense. Not because I want him. Not because I'm secretly carrying a torch. Elio is someone I used to sleep with. That's all.

Under any other circumstances, I might even find this a little flattering.

Valentino Conti. The human equivalent of a locked door, just moved to the front seat because he convinced himself I'm in love with somebody else.

That's the sort of thing I would screenshot and send to Vittoria with seventeen exclamation points.

Right now, though, it doesn't feel flattering.

It feels like punishment.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR