Page 145 of Wicked Rivals

Valerie hadn’t been strong enough to withstand the horrors. She wouldn't have known how to push the man to save herself. She wouldn’t have understood how badly the bastard wanted to hear her scream.

She wouldn't have survived the trauma.

Valentina had to take over to save me. She was the one with the strength, knew how to use it, knew how to keep going.

I couldn’t define the woman who now existed.

Valerie or Valentina?

Which woman wore the damn mask?

More importantly, which one would my son accept as his mother?

And what right did I have to judge Stefano the way I had, to be angry with him for lying about his real identity, when I’d also concealed my identity all along?

I just didn't know anymore.

A knot bunched in my gut.

I had to tell him. And it had to be soon. As soon as I healed a little more, physically, emotionally, when recent events no longer clouded my thoughts.

Stefano touched my hand.

“Val,” he said. “Did you hear me?”

I dropped my fork and stared at him as he shook his head.

“I can see you’re not all right. Come on, baby, I’m taking you back to bed.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

Then he stood and lifted me into his arms once again.

“My room, Val. That’s where I want you. I’ll still sleep on the couch if that’s what you want—for now—but Enzo will go back to sleeping in his own room. He never left you last night.”

That knot in my stomach loosened. My heart… I didn’t know how to translate the skipping and pounding of my stupid heart into words.

I touched Stefano’s face.

“My boys are so sweet.”

Stefano’s eyes widened, and his lips parted. I guided his face down to mine and put a sweet kiss on his mouth. And then he carried me up to his room, to his bed.

Silence then filled the air between us.

He spoke first after tucking me in beneath the comforter.

“There’s a TV if you want to watch something. Or I can have books brought in.”

“A movie sounds nice,” I said with a small smile. “I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve watched something other than a Disney movie or Harry Potter.”

Stefano let out a noncommittal grunt while he grabbed the remote. With the click of a button, a hidden compartment inside a cabinet near the foot of the bed slid open, and a flatscreen came up.

“Watch a lot of TV here?” I asked.

He stared at the screen, opening a streaming app.

“Yeah, when I can’t sleep.”

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