Page 2 of United Reign (Valentino Empire 3)

“I like that plan.”

“Come on, let’s go sit down so we can get to it sooner.”

* * *

The moment I enter the foyer of the penthouse, I smell it.Rotting flesh.I pull Holly behind me and have my gun drawn within seconds. Neo stands in front of me, attempting to push me backwards. “Get her out of here, T.” He shoves against my chest. “NOW!” he screams when I don’t move.

“What’s happening? What’s that smell?” Holly asks, trying to step around me.

“Neo, take her to the car. I’ll be down in a minute.” I throw the order at him, intent on finding out what’s waiting for me.

“No, both of you stop talking about me like I’m not even here. I’m not going anywhere without you, T. So either you're coming to the car, or I’m staying right here.” Holly manages to make her way beside me, somehow twisting out of the grip I had on her arm.

“Stay here, both of you.” Neo walks farther into the apartment.

I’m torn over what to do. I want to follow him to see what the fuck is going on. But I also don’t want to leave Holly behind, or let her see whatever’s waiting for me just around the corner. And I know if I follow Neo, there is no way Holly won’tfollow me.And the last thing I want is to expose her to whatever hell is mere feet away. I should turn around, get her the fuck out, and take her to one of the family’s safe houses.

“What the fuck?!” My cousin’s voice travels down the hall. Instinct has me running towards him. I stop as soon as I cross the threshold into the bedroom. I see a pale-faced Neo… and the scene that’s made him look like he’s about to lose his breakfast.

On the bed, on our fucking marital bed, are two human carcasses. A male and a female. They’ve been here a while, the decomposing bodies a clear representation of me and my wife. Whoever did this wanted them to look likeus. The woman’s a redhead… fuck! They wanted us to find this. They wanted me to know they could get to us.Get to her.

The bastards sent a fucking message, and it’s been received.Loud and fucking clear.They want a war. A war I’m going to fucking win.

“Oh my God!” Holly’s gasp shakes me from my internal rage.

“Dolcezza, it’s okay. It’ll be okay.” I wrap my arms around her and bury her head into my chest. I don’t want her looking at this. I don’t want her anywhere near this fucking shit. Not anymore. And not again.

ChapterTwo

It’s been two weeks since we landed back in New York. Nothing is the same though. I’m not the same person I was when I left. Theo’s not the same person either; he’s turning into someone I don’t recognize. Then again, so am I.

I can barely close my eyes without reliving the moment when I took someone else’s life. Out of anger. Revenge. I could have let Donatello handle it. I could have run out of the room and not looked back. But, instead, everything in me wanted to hurt that man. I wanted to make sure he’d never hurt another woman like he wanted to hurt me, like he did hurt me. I don’t regret what I did. No, my nightmares are not about killing him. They’re about what would have happened if Donatello hadn’t come into the room to help me… if he hadn’t intervened. Add that to the scene welcoming us back to the city… The bodies. The stench. It all just won’t leave my head. I’m jumping at every damn shadow. Every sound.

As much as I’m trying hard not to show how affected I am, Theo sees straight through my façade. He’s said so… countless times. But he’s stressed; he’s barely getting three hours of sleep a night. I know something is going on. I can feel the tension in the air. I’ve overheard conversations between my husband and Neo. Things I’m not meant to hear. A war is coming. But every time I ask either of them about it, I get the same vague answers: It’s nothing for you to worry about… We have everything under control…

If it were nothing for me to worry about, then why are there so many more men in suits roaming around us than I’ve ever seen before? Armed men. And why has my husband had a distant, detached look in his eyes for the last two weeks?

I want to help him. I want to do whatever I can to make this situation better, though I’m pretty sure I’ve just been making it worse. I’m something else he has to protect and look after. If I wasn’t here, would it be easier for him to fight whatever this is? Reilly has been begging me to return home to Sydney. She doesn’t know what’s going on here. I haven’t told her what happened in Italy, but she’s aware something happened. She knows I’m not okay right now.

I’ve considered taking her up on her offer, but every time the thought comes to mind, I immediately dismiss it. The idea of being that far away from T again sends an indescribable ache to my heart. Would my life be easier if I went back to Sydney? Yes. Would I be safer back in Sydney? Also, yes. But I wouldn’t be living. I would rather stay, stand beside my husband, and fight through the depths of hell before ever going on without him. Because a life without T would not be a life at all.

It’s literally my worst nightmare. I know because I lived it, just a few weeks ago when I thought Theo had been blown up in that house. For three days, he let me think he was dead… and for what? Nothing has been resolved from what I can tell. He still has enemies coming after him. After me. Everything we’ve been through over the last couple of months is only the kindling on the fire that’s about to blaze through this town.

I need to find a way to get T to be present. Here. With me. To get him to confide in me, let me take away some of his worries and help him. We’re a team. We should be united in this fight. This isn’t his war. It’s ours.

With renewed determination, I jump out of bed. A bed I’ve been lying around in for weeks, not doing much of anything at all. I head into the bathroom first. I need to handle some much-needed maintenance. When I look in the mirror, it’s no wonder T has been treating me with kid gloves. I look like a mess. I don’t even recognize the woman staring back at me.

After spending an hour in the shower, I blow dry my hair out, and for the first time in two weeks, I put some makeup on. Well, I apply some mascara and lip gloss, but that counts. Now, to find something to wear. I want Theo to notice me. And not for being the frightened, scared, helpless woman I’ve been for two weeks. I want him to look at me with desire. I want him to want me again. I’m about to pull a dress off the hanger when a thought comes to mind. What if he doesn’t want me anymore? After what happened in Italy, does he see me as damaged goods?

I collapse to the floor of the closet. I’m in a house I don’t know. Surrounded by people I don’t know. Waiting for a threat I know nothing about… After Sonnie, I’ve avoided getting close to any of the men working for Theo. It’s easier to not learn their names, to not know if they have families who will miss them when they take another bullet meant for me. We haven’t even had a funeral for him yet. Where is his body? Were his loved ones told what happened to him?

I bury my head into my knees, my tears falling freely down my cheeks. So much for my five minutes of bravado. My hands pull at the ends of my hair. I feel like I’m losing my damn mind. My thoughts are jumping all over the place, and there’s an endless list of questions left unanswered because I can’t bring myself to ask them.

* * *

I couldn’t tell you if I was sitting in the closet for a minute or an hour. The instant I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around me and tug me from the floor, I was drawn out of my thoughts. I buried my head into his chest and inhaled the familiar musky scent.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you, dolcezza.” His voice is hoarse, choked up with emotion.

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