Page 18 of Prince of Malice

The car spins around in the driveway in front of the house, and the shadow it casts from the moonlight envelops everything in its path. I look up at the huge Valenti manor through the car window and catch a glance from a dark figure shifting past the upstairs landing. A few dim lights illuminate the house, the entranceway, the upper hall, and my father’s study. He’s set my course through the house already.

The door beside me opens, Filo standing at the ready. “Here you are. Have a good night now.”

“Thank you, Filo. You too.” I give him a smile and a small wave as I walk away from him and toward the front door.

The house matched Montcove’s architecture quite well, both utilizing the gothic style aptly and making them feel just as comforting as each other. Whether that’s a positive or not, I’m still unsure.

I push my way through the large, heavy oak doors, hearing the old creak echo through the entrance and announce my arrival. Shutting them behind me, I take a nostalgic look at the fashionably lit expanse around me as if it’s been more than a week since I saw it last.

Still, even in that brief time, things have changed. One of the outdated family portraits has been taken down and moved off to the side of the room, awaiting its proper removal, and stationed right beside it is one of the photos taken at the wedding of the Valenti-Rossi family yet to go up on the wall.

I move closer to it, gliding my hand over its bespoke, carved wooden frame andkneeling down in front of it to get a better look. The family members on both sides of the picture just barely fit inside of the framing; even at a wedding marking their unification, they can’t bear being close together. A clear divide appears on either side of the married couple, them alone being the only Valenti and Rossi to stand near each other.

I stare at myself, dressed up in a similar suit I’m wearing tonight, my chestnut hair freshly cut and my eyes blissfully unaware of what would happen just days later.

Before I can even realize it, my eyes shift and land squarely on Dominic. His jet black hair is styled up from his face, his perfect green eyes are staring directly back at me, the whole package wrapped in a suit he seems to want to shed as soon as he can. The idea alone makes me feel unfulfilled and wanting for more.

“Luca, there you are,” my dad calls from the top of the staircase behind me. “I thought I told you to come straight to my study?” he asks as if I had forgotten, but we both know I haven’t

“Sorry, I just saw the new photo. Turnedout better than I thought,” I say, my eyes still lingering on Dominic’s depiction.

“Ah yes, that just came in today. Didn’t have time to get it up quite yet. Now, to my study?”

“By all means.” I make my way up the grand staircase, watching my father take the lead.

By the time I make it inside the room, he’s already positioned himself in his suede armchair in front of the roaring open fire. “Close the door behind you and take a seat.” He gestures to the matching chair in front of his.

I click the door closed and sit in front of him. “What did you want to talk about?”

Taking a deep breath, his face shifts to be much more serious. “Before we discuss that, I just want to check in with you.”

His words send me into a state of delightful surprise. He usually left our personal matters to my mother, and when she passed, he left us to deal with them ourselves.

“Your time at the party tonight, you seemed troubled by it,” he adds. “I just wantto ensure they won’t get in the way of what we’re going to talk about.”

Immediately, I am ripped away from any assumptions of his care. Of course he only thinks of business, but that’s what I need to be doing as well. He wouldn’t be so shaken by something as trivial as a stupid, impulsive kiss, so why should I?

“No. They won’t affect anything.” My words feel more like prayers as I say them.

“Good, so on to the matter at hand,” he announces, leaning forward in his chair. “The Grecos have put forward their terms for the meeting.”

From his tone, I can tell this is serious, and I must treat it as such. “What have they said?”

“They want to meet on neutral territory. There’s a small restaurant downtown that’s favored both of our families before, so that’s where we decided.”

I nod along as he speaks.

“They’ve made it clear that the only thing they want from us is peace, but…here’s just one catch. Their patriarch, Antonio Greco, isn’t representing them. He thinks that because of our history, we won’t be able to come to an amicable agreement.”

“I don’t understand.”

“They want fresh blood to handle it. Greco’s sending one of his new lackeys to broker the deal.” He pauses.

“Who do they want us to send?” I ask nervously, though I already know the answer.

“They want you to go without me.” He stands from his chair and begins pacing.

“Really?”

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