Page 132 of Phantom Mine

Idon’t think I could forget about Valentina if I tried. Not if I spent ten years trying, not if I spent a thousand.

Months ago, the second I realized there was no alternative to marrying Marina Marchesani if I wanted to become and stay Don, I tried forgetting about the girl in the peacock dress.

I went toFirenzemore often, drank with Enzo, tried to flirt with pretty girls to forget about her.

Instead, fate chose to serve her up to me on a platter, presenting me with a priceless jewel sparkling brightly against the backdrop of a dark, dirty alley.

And now I’m supposed to give her up?

Ye—

NO.No.

No.

Italian marriages are supposed to be sacred, with fidelity between spouses being the cardinal rule, but that’s the onething I can thank my father for. His repeated and unabashed affairs could have paved the way for me to potentially have a more modern approach to marriage, if it wasn’t for the fact that Valentina would shoot me before I was even done speaking if I ever suggested keeping her as my mistress while marrying Marina in name only. Emiliano Marchesani would also kill me for humiliating his daughter.

That, and also, I couldn’t actually fathom living that way.

I want a lot more from Valentina than just her body. I won’t have her in half-measures. Not without the parts she chooses to keep from me and not without the parts that are out of reach because she can never be my wife.

After I came down Valentina’s throat, I took her home where I fucked her four more times in my bed. I was hoping it would be enough to permanently imprint her ass, but it wasn’t.

I’m excited to keep working at it tonight once I’m back from the Tellier gala I have to attend. If this were any other event, I wouldn’t even have considered leaving Valentina’s side the night after our biggest argument, but this was a necessary trip.

It would take a college class fifty semesters of chaos theory to adequately study my path to becoming interimDon. Nothing has gone the way I expected and the reasons why can all be pinpointed back to the seismic earthquake that was Valentina’s reappearance in my life.

It might not have happened the way I planned it, but it’s happened nonetheless. Until my father is found, I am theDon. The last week in power has been exactly as I envisaged it would be. There’s only so much I can do until my position is confirmed, but I can feel that the crown fits just right.

That’s why I have to make sure my father never reappears. We followed dozens of tracks, all of them leading to inevitable dead ends, except the last one. One of our lower level assetsreported rumblings that he had been kidnapped by none other than Thiago da Silva.

Da Silva is the head of the Colombian cartel. No Underworld man’s reputation is good, but his eclipses almost all others for how notoriously vicious he is. Where I like to observe and lie in wait, striking clinically only when necessary, he takes more of a ‘chop it to pieces with a machete, then torch it with a flamethrower’approach.

The shock and awe is a nice touch, but it’s also totally lacking in subtlety. A little tasteless if you ask me.

No finesse whatsoever.

On the surface, one boss coming for another isn’t necessarily shocking. It’s a power player, a fucking bold one, but one that seems to match the flamboyance he favors.

But it doesn’t make sense. He’s besting us on all fronts, slowly encroaching on our business and taking over our long held shipment lines. Provoking a war with theFamigliadoesn’t help him, not when he’s already winning without the bloodshed that will come from this if it’s true.

No, this is personal.

And I need to find out why.

We’ve never met, and one doesn’t simply saunter into a Colombianjefe’s office and introduce themselves, not unless they have a very serious death wish.

Thankfully, we do have one ally in common, one family that ties us together, no matter how strenuous the link.

And that family likes to flaunt its wealth and power, throwing lavish parties to make sure people never forget, parties I know Thiago da Silva will go to to kiss the ring.

Which is why my attendance at the Tellier gala was nonnegotiable, no matter my preference for staying in bed with Valentina wrapped around me.

This is my opportunity to meet him and understand what possible reason he has for kidnapping my cunt of a father.

“Focus, Matteo,” Enzo whispers under his breath to me. He tips his chin discreetly to the right. “Incoming.”

I turn to find two women I know well heading my way. They’re both older than me, the roughly fifteen year age difference having done nothing to dull either of their beauty.

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