Page 66 of Angelo

Valentina smirked back at her. "Sandro married you because you are spineless and biddable. My stepbrother was not man enough to wed me. Unlike you, I am a fighter."

Elyse stifled the urge to scoff. She muttered wryly, "Maybe you're right. Or maybe you don't know me at all."

"I know I am superior to you in every way."

Elyse laughed. "You're definitely a pain in the ass in every way."

"And here I thought you wanted to be my little bitch?Errore mio."My mistake.

"You're right, I'm sorry," Elyse apologized with a strained smile, "I'm the bitch today, and you're the bride."

"I like it when you know your place, Dr. Romero," Valentina murmured with glittering eyes. "Who knows? You and I might become—what is the word you Americans like to use?I heard it on TV the other day.Besties. We could become besties someday."

Besties? Elyse didn't think that she could stomach any kind of friendship with her stepsister-in-law, but, in time, they could probably learn to coexist. Unless, of course, Valentina intended to betray Alessandro.

Elyse's jaw tightened ever so slightly, but she kept her tone civil. "I hope I'll be able to call you my friend someday."

"For your sake, you should hope that wedobecome friends," Valentina returned with a sharp smile. "I assure you, no one wants me as an enemy."

"I believe it." Elyse smiled back, but she wasn't feeling friendly at all. Her mind was spinning with schemes. It was time to set her plan in motion. She needed Valentina to relax, open up, and spill some fucking secrets.

Once they entered the boutique, a team of stylists fluttered around Valentina, gushing and fangirling incessantly over the blonde's stunning model-like physique. They brought out several bottles of rare and ridiculously expensive champagnes. Two wine glasses were filled to the brim. One for Valentina and one for Elyse.

Everyone was treating Valentina like the star of the show, and the bride-to-be soaked up the adoration and attention. Elyse didn't hold back, either, making sure to shower her stepsister-in-law with dozens of flowery, heartfelt compliments that would've made Alessandro proud. It wasn't difficult to do. The blonde looked breathtaking in every single dress she tried on.

The stylists plied Valentina with glass after glass of champagne in between gown changes. Elyse nursed her glass of bubbly very, very slowly, watching the blonde's cheeks grow rosier and rosier as the hour dragged on.

Champagne had been Malina's suggestion. The housekeeper claimed thatValentina possessed a weakness for fine spirits. They loosened her tongue whenever she got drunk. As champagne bottles dwindled and emptied, Valentina eventually settled on an over-the-top, show-stopping, vampy, corseted ball gown full of crystals and voluminous tulle skirts. The dress cost more than Elyse's old salary as a surgeon, but the expense was worth it. Valentina seemed to be in an excellent mood.

On the car ride home, Elyse made her move on her tipsy charge. "Ms. Rizzo?"

Valentina giggled and hiccupped. "Hmm?"

"You know," Elyse mumbled, "I was thinking..."

The blonde hummed snarkily,"Buon per te." Good for you.

"You were right."

“I know. I amalwaysright,” came her instinctive response. Then, Valentina scrunched up her nose. She suddenly looked confused. "Wait. What am I right about?"

"Your mother should be at your wedding. It feels wrong to keep her away on your special day."

Blue eyes glazed over. "Finally, we agree on something!"

Elyse chose her next words carefully, "I'll see what I can do about Alessandro to change his mind about Carmen, but you must help me convince him."

Valentina sighed, "How, though? Sandro is as stubborn as a mule!"

"Alessandro has been looking for Father Boselli."

Valentino's expression sobered slightly. "Why?"

"He was hoping to have the priest conduct the memorial services for Aberto, Domenico, and Carlo," Elyse brought up, "but the man is hard to track down."

The blonde's drunken gaze sharpened. "Sounds like you are desperate to find him."

Elyse sidestepped Valentina's accusation and inquired, "Maybe you could ask around for me?"

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