Page 29 of Unassuming Queen (Valentino Empire 2)

“I’ll fill you in when I make it out.”

“Ifyou make it out!” Neo yells. “This is crazy, T. Just get on the first fucking jet here. We can figure out another way—one that doesn’t involve you going on a suicide mission.”

“Relax, I’ll be fine. Donatello is gonna wanna hear what I have to say.”

“Don’t leave me here to console your widow again. That was not fucking cool. Seeing that woman break made me actually want to kill you myself,” he grunts.

“Are you going soft on me, coz? Maybe you’re getting too close to my wife.”

“Don’t be an ass. You know it’s not like that. But she’s fucking impossible not to like and want to protect. Just hurry up and get home, so she can stop looking so fucking sad all the time.”

“She’s sad?”

“When she thinks no one is watching, she looks like someone just ran over her puppy.”

“Okay, I gotta go. Just try to keep her busy. Keep her mind off shit, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I steel myself as I exit the car and walk up the steps, the double doors opening right as I go to knock. “Mr. Valentino. Welcome. Please, come in,” a housemaid greets me. And the moment I step inside, I’m stopped by four armed guards. I smirk. They must be afraid of me if this is my welcome committee.

“Weapons in here,” one says, holding up a plastic box. I look at the box and then back to him. Are they fucking nuts? Do they think I’m going to hand over everything?

“You either put your shit in here, or you can turn around and walk back out the fucking door,” another says.

I smirk, drawing two Glocks from under my jacket. “Don’t worry, I don’t need these anyway. I can do enough damage all on my own.” They stand there, in stony silence, as they watch me remove two more small-caliber pistols and three knives from various locations on my body.

“Follow me.” The dipshit with the box ushers me forward. I don’t waste time trailing behind. This isn’t my first rodeo with some douchebag who thinks he’s king shit. The guard knocks on a large oak door before holding it open for me to pass. Donatello is sitting behind a huge mahogany desk. What the fuck is it with these guys and mahogany desks? Is it in some sort of mob boss handbook or something? I must have missed that chapter.

“Valentino, I heard you got toasted,” Donatello greets.

“I’m sure a lot of people will be disappointed to find out I wasn’t.” I hold out my hand to shake his.

His grip tightens before he lets go and points to a chair. “Have a seat. I was sorry to hear about your father. I apologize I couldn’t get over there for the funeral. How’s your mother doing?”

“Thanks. She’s fine.”

“I’m sure she is. Always was a tough one, that Gloria.” Donatello’s face flashes with…something. It’s an odd look—a look I can’t decipher.

I tilt my head and glare at him. “I wasn’t aware you knew my mother that well.”

“Oh, your mother and my sister went to school together. Anyway, what can I do for you? What brought you to my territory?” He’s quick to change the subject. Interesting. I’m going to have to ask Ma what that’s about.

I look around the room. There are two armed men at the door. I’m thankful Giovani isn’t one of them. But those two need to go. “It’s a sensitive matter.” I cross my leg, resting my ankle on my thigh, and wait. Like I have nowhere else to be.

Donatello’s gaze spears through me. If he’s trying to make me squirm, he’ll need to try harder. I don’t fucking squirm for anyone. Finally, he nods his head, and the two soldiers disappear from the doorway.

“Now that you have my attention, Theo, what the fuck are you doing in Italy?”

ChapterFifteen

I’m wading around in the pool with Gloria, drinking some of the best wine I’ve ever tasted. I couldn’t hold it in any longer, and I ended up confessing to her that I’ve seen Theo, that I’ve spoken to him. She broke down and cried with relief. She understands this world of theirs a lot better than I do, because not once has she asked anything about why I didn’t tell her sooner or why her son hadn’t told her himself.

It’s odd to me, how she just accepts it. Although, now that she knows for sure he’s still alive, she’s started planning our wedding. For someone who said (mere weeks ago) that I would never fit into their world, she’s sure on board with me being her daughter-in-law.

I’ve started to tune her out a bit—you’d think she was planning a wedding for the royal family. I laugh at the thought. Then again, people do look at T like he’s some sort of king. I can see it too: his appeal, how he commands a room with a confidence unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed before. I need to try to not think about him. The more I do, the harder it is to keep up with appearances. The heartbreak is too much. And if I’m not careful, I’m going to end up in a depressed hump, not able to shake myself out of it. I need to be thankful that he is alive, even if he’s so far away from me right now. I wipe at a loose tear and dunk my head under the water.

When I come up, I’m met with Neo’s stony gaze. “What’s wrong?” he asks me as he stands at the edge of the pool, his arms crossed over his chest.

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