Page 142 of Phantom Mine

Surprisingly, the alcohol does nothing to muddy my memories or muddle my thoughts. I can relive every frame of her hugging him, can replay every second of her telling him she loves him.

The alcohol also does nothing to calm the painful throbbing in my chest. I’m not sure what it does except make me want to confess that her betrayal hurts more than anything else ever has.

Pain stabs at my throat like a pack of razor blades and radiates down through my chest.

“Tell me, what exactly was your assignment, Valentina? Were you just supposed to fuck me or was breaking my heart always part of the plan?” I release her neck and cage her against the wall. “Or did you just decide to go for a little extra credit once you realized how easily I fell into your trap?” I grab a glass flask from my jacket pocket and take a swig, wiping the excess liquid from my mouth with the back of my hand and throwing my arms out to the sides. “Because I did, didn’t I? I ignored every red flag. I let you walk me into your trap like a lamb to the slaughter without doing anything to defend myself, not even when you warned me I should.” That memory does make me laugh. It’s an ugly noise that sounds closer to a hacked sob than a chuckle. I fall into her, rasping the next words emotionally against the shell of her ear. “Did the two of you laugh about that when you were together?”

“Stop,” she tries again, reaching to take the flask from me, her eyes full of concern. An animalistic growl rips from me and I shove her hand away, taking another swig instead.

“The part I don’t understand is how he canstandto know you’re with me.” Another drink. The fire in my throat matches the one wrecking destruction in my chest. “Touching me, kissing me, confiding in me. Spending the night with me. Being intimate with me in every possible way, even if you were only doing it for him.” Another gulp briefly numbs the heartbreak. My thumb brushes yearningly over her lips. “Doesn’t it drive him out of his mind to have to share you? Because it would drive me crazy.” I spin and hurl the flask at the wall with raw, explosive force. It smashes into it and shatters, liquid spraying everywhere. “It fuckingis.”

Valentina’s hands fly to her mouth in shock.

“It’s all I’ve thought about since yesterday, the fact that you’re his and hewillinglychooses to share you.” I dig my palms into my eyes to soothe away the sting. “I could never,” I whisper, dragging my hands through my hair next, yanking tormentedly at the strands, repeating hoarsely, “I couldnever.”

The thick misery is clear in my voice, choking every syllable that squeezes past my lips.

A tightness starts in my chest and creeps slowly upwards, making it hard to breathe. I lean over and rest my head on my forearm, trapping Valentina beneath me.

“Was any of it real?” I demand in a guttural whisper. My eyes burn. “I’m the one who’s been holding you at night. I’m the one who’s spent every waking hour exploringeveryinch of your body.” Each word comes out sharp and desperate. “I’m the one who’s been wiping the fucking tears off your cheeks, so tell me, was it all fake? Every special fucking moment? Every memory?” My voice cracks. “This isn’t what I meant when I asked you if you were going to ruin my life.”

“Matteo,” she begs, running her palms up to my chest. They leave a once comfortable, now treacherous, warmth behind them as a reminder of their passage. “Thiago’s not—”

Hearing her start to take that tone of voice in his defense kills me. There’s a fucking ache throbbing in my chest, a pounding fist of devastation that’s breaking me from the inside. I’m in this deeper than I realized. I don’t know exactly when I gave her the power to hurt me like this, but it feels as fatal as I predicted it would.

“Don’t try to fucking defend him.”

“You’ve got this all wrong! Please, let me speak.”

“What have I gotten wrong,cara?” I demand scornfully. “Because they just found my father’s mutilated body this morning. The morning after you very publicly threw yourselfinto da Silva’s arms, the morning I just overheard you telling him youlovehim, and he’s the one responsible for his murder.”

She gasps, having the grace to at least pretend to be surprised by the news.

An awful realization suddenly clicks into place.

That she’s the missing piece. The real reason he kidnapped and murdered my father.

She’s what makes this personal for da Silva.

He’s waging war forher.

“My brother is dead, Valentina, and now so is my father,” I declare, speaking inches from her face as she shakes in my hold. “I assume the next name on your hit list is mine. Were you going to do it yourself?” I inquire, the words barely more than a whisper. “Were you going to be the one to kill me?”

I don’t give her a chance to answer, dragging her with me back towards the drawers instead. Smoke still slinks slowly off the candle she blew out when she realized I was here. Why she bothered with such an act of protectiveness in my defense while simultaneously betraying me, I don’t know.

Maybe that’s how deeply she believes her own act, her own lies. They certainly fooled me.

“Now’s your chance. I won’t stop you. In fact...” I find a ten inch knife in the second drawer and shove it into her hand. “Here.”

She doesn’t take it. Her palm stays flat and she stares wide-eyed in horror at the blade instead.

“Here,” I hiss, shoving it more firmly, then forcefully closing her fingers around the handle. “Use it, Leni.”

She flinches at the nickname.

I grab her, my fingers bruising over hers, and force her hand up between us until the blade digs into my chest. She tries to open her fist but my hold makes that impossible.

Valentina’s eyes swim with an ocean of tears. Two steps forward or one small flick of her wrist and I’ll be skewered on the tip of her kitchen knife.

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