Page 66 of Mafia Kings: Valentino

I wiped my hands off on a dish towel and quickly walked over to him.

Marianna was making pasta at the other end of the kitchen island. She tried to act like she wasn’t going to eavesdrop, but I ignored her.

“Did something happen to your brothers?!” I whispered, my heart beating faster with fear.

“…no… not exactly…” Val muttered, his voice a croak. Then he took my hand. “I need you to come with me.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Marianna. She was openly staring now, but looked away when I caught her eye.

“I’m working,” I whispered.

He grabbed my hand. “We need to talk.”

His words were as frightening to me as a moan from a graveyard at midnight.

“O-okay,” I stuttered, and let him lead me out of the kitchen and down the hall.

Valentino didn’t say anything, and I didn’t ask, but I felt absolutely sick with dread.

If it wasn’t something about his brothers getting hurt, then it could only be one thing:

Niccolo had finally ordered him to stop seeing me.

Or… even worse… maybe Don Rosolini had given the order.

Niccolo had always looked down on us sleeping together. Val told me it was because his brother thought it was bad for morale.

I had to admit, Niccolo had a point. The gossip about me and Val was non-stop. A lot of times when I entered a room, my co-workers would abruptly quit speaking and look away, like they’d been talking about me behind my back.

The gossip I could deal with.

Niccolo was a much bigger problem.

I never told Valentino, but I secretly believed that bad morale wasn’t Niccolo’s only objection.

I figured Niccolo thought I was unworthy of his little brother.

Me – a lowly servant – and Val, a Rosolini. The richest and most powerful family in Tuscany.

It didn’t matter to Niccolo that Alessandra had worked in a café when Dario met her (probably because she turned out to be a long-lost mafia princess).

It also didn’t matter that Alessandra’s father had been a servant before he’d run off with Alessandra’s mother.

No. Valentino was Niccolo’s brother, and I was a nobody who worked in the kitchen.

Thank God Valentino had ignored Niccolo’s objections up until now –

But it was only because no one had given him a direct order.

I knew that if Don Rosolini told Valentino to stop, he would have no choice.

I’d feared all along that this day was coming, and it broke my heart.

Valentino led me into a deserted bedroom and closed the door.

For a moment, I held out hope that maybe something badhadhappened – that Val just needed comforting – and I glanced at the bed.

I fantasized about taking him tenderly into my arms… holding him… kissing him… and making love to him to make him forget all his troubles.

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