Page 82 of Wicked Rivals

“How do you know about that?”

My heartbeat thumped in my throat. My mouth ran dry. But somehow, I shrugged it off and pretended like I didn’t know what he was talking about.

“I don’t know,” I said. “In passing conversation? I’ve been overhearing a lot of talk between you and your men.”

Then I flinched, realizing I’d just made one of the biggest mistakes of all. I’d shown him a glimpse of my cards, at the wrong time, for the wrong reason.

How fucking stupid could I be, over and over again?

Stefano dug his fingers deeper into my flesh.

His jaw muscle flexed.

“My men don’t discuss those details around you, Valerie, and the Commission is the last thing on anyone’s mind right now. Because we’re focused on finding the son of a bitch who tried to murder you and our son.”

He tilted his head and studied my face, his painful grip bruising my arms.

“How do you know so much about Benedetta’s family? And how the fuck do you know anything about the goddamn Commission?”

CHAPTER 17

STEFANO

Val had fucked up big time, and I did not appreciate being played. Whatever her game, it wasn’t the time for it.

I let go of her and pushed her against the counter with my body, flattening my hands on the granite on either side of her to cage her inside my arms, so she couldn’t turn away from me.

A goddamn erection pushed at my slacks.

Not the time for that either.

I knew what Val wanted.

Having power meant there would always be someone trying to take it away from me.

Seemed even Val wanted it.

Nothing attracted people to a man like me more than the desire to feel the strength of his power. Not even money. I had to be on guard all the time, in every situation, including with those I wanted to trust.

Trust had never come easily to me because I knew very well about the dangers of losing it.

My father and my brother had been way too trusting. And in the end, that oversight and their arrogance got them killed.

I wouldn’t allow myself to be destroyed by that same shit. If my reactions sometimes bordered on paranoia, so be it.

“Tell me how you know about the families,” I repeated.

I didn’t want to hurt Val, but maybe scaring her enough to show her how serious I was about getting answers would get her to open up to me.

She shoved at my chest.

“Because I know who you are, Stefano, and I told you I wanted nothing to do with the way you live your life. But I wasn’t stupid enough to believe you wouldn’t ever come looking for me and find my son, so I’ve watched your world. To be prepared.”

“To be prepared? What the fuck does that even mean?”

“Do you know how many journalists out there walk the streets of New York, searching for the next breaking mafia story? And of course there’s social media. You can literally find information about the families on the internet.

“Oh, and what about the low-rent mob bosses constantly brag about their low-level shit on public sites? You should look into that.”

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