Page 30 of Wicked Rivals

I didn’t want the contents to strike up another flare of contention between Val and me, especially in such close proximity in the back of the car, where neither of us could walk away to avoid crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed.

Where I couldn’t walk away.

My conviction lasted all of three minutes before I needed to know what the envelope contained. I opened it and peered inside, thumbing through the items without exposing them to nearby prying eyes. Val’s mostly, but also the boy’s.

The top sheet of paper had a note written with the same red marker as the first one.

END THE ENGAGEMENT OR WE END YOUR BASTARD AND HIS PRETTY WHORE MOTHER

Behind the note were several new photos, each more detailed than the last. The first showed the boy on what looked like a school playground, surrounded by classmates and two teachers.

The next shot captured him at a desk in the classroom, his head bent low over his work, lips pressed together in concentration, a pencil gripped in one hand.

The bastards had followed him to school—the one place he should have been safe while neither of his parents were around.

I swallowed hard and examined the images printed on the next pages. My son walking through the park with his mother, my son sitting at a table inside Con Amore, and again my son at the park just down the street while his mother watched him from her seat on a bench.

More photos zeroed in on Val by herself, shopping or tending to customers at the café or approaching the boy’s school.

All those unsettled me enough on their own.

But the last photo made my blood run cold.

A picture of Val and the child lying on the couch, her holding him, echoing the exact view I’d caught myself earlier from the back seat of this very car.

A book propped up in front of them. A teacup and a mug on the table. The most intimate details captured.

A sweet picture on its own.

In context, a living fucking nightmare.

Over the next few minutes, I considered keeping it all to myself. But this was no longer about just me, so I reluctantly handed the envelope to Val.

She had the right to know about any threats made against her and her child.

Maybe a glimpse of this one might help her understand how dangerous it had truly become for them.

With trembling hands, she lifted the envelope flap and peeked inside. A wince contorted her face as she sifted through the photos, but she said nothing.

The next ten minutes of the ride to my estate passed in silence, despite the night we’d all just had.

I breathed in the surrounding scent. Hers, the one overwhelming my senses. Something sweet and flowery, like orange blossoms, with a warm vanilla base.

The same perfume she’d worn back then.

Then and now it took me back to my summers on the Amalfi coast, so beautiful and carefree. Like Val when we first met.

The way she looked at me now told a different story.

She sat between the kid and me, and the dirty looks she shot at me, even over the top of that yellow envelope, showed it was intentional.

Before long, she and I would have one long, incredibly uncomfortable conversation about what came next for us, but it had to wait. It couldn’t happen in front of her son.

My son.

The wrought iron gates rolled open as Tony got us close in the Mercedes. After clearing the stretch inside the gates up to the house, we pulled to a stop beside the wide front steps that led to the front door.

I exited the car first, ignoring the lightheaded waves making things spin. The bullet hole in my arm throbbed with my pulse, although the sharpest pain had dulled some.

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