Page 41 of DeLucas After Dark

Christmas gifts have been delivered to your villa. Let this be the end of things.

“Looks like Don Enzo has gifted us something good for Christmas.”

* * *

The plans we had to stay another night in the hospital come to an end because of Enzo’s text. Although Italy is infamously slow, the hospital staff check Sloane and Tácito out.

Tácito wears a sling to raise his bandaged hand and we take extra care not to bump into him. “I hope you don’t think you can leave me out of this.” He glares at me and Sloane.

“Wouldn’t think of it. Didn’t you know? Dishing out vengeance is a family affair. After everything you shared, you should know we’ll share in this, too.”

Sloane rubs her belly and talks to the baby resting inside. “Ignore your daddy, little one. Your parents will take care of everyone who wishes you harm without you having to lift a finger.”

“That’s a given.” I roll my eyes at her before turning serious. “Anything you want to do in particular or we’re just going to fuck Pierangelo up real good before he breathes his last?”

Sloane rests a hand on Tácito’s shoulder, and my eyes travel to his injured arm. “I vote that we fuck him up for everything he did to Tácito and our team. Make him meet his death in agony.”

“I second, because he put our wife and our baby at risk when he drugged her. He deserves all the smoke. I just wish I had my tools to prolong his suffering.”

Despite Tácito’s earlier confession, the look in his light eyes is jarring. Now I understand why Sloane’s refusal to provide access her doctor wasn’t limited to me. From what she said earlier, he’s shown her glimpses of this side to him.

If I had known he was about that life, I would have invited him on my trips to meet with Sloane’s exes. Let him work out some of his pent up frustration while she waited to acknowledge we were meant to be hers. Because I’m reminded of the bone of contention predating this trip, I get Tácito and Sloane’s attention.

“Since we’ve all promised not to keep secrets, there’s one thing I’d like to ask Sloane to relax her stance on.”

“Oh? What have I—Valentino, be serious. Remember? I like my doctor,” she whines. “And I want the same doc for all our children so they can grow up getting tired of my stories about the same person delivered them. Don’t you want that for us?” She rubs her belly while peering up at me through her lashes.

I almost bend, but Tácito comes in with a save.

“Attending your appointments would probably help with the nightmares.”

She spins in her seat to glare at Tácito. “You’ve been keeping that from us too? Nightmares?”

“They were related to the big secret that you all know. But if you want me to rest easy at night, I’m sure being a part of your visits will go a long way.”

“But…” she glances between me and Tácito. “I love my doc.”

I narrow my eyes. “When did love enter the equation?”

“Don’t you dare blow this out of proportion. It’s not that kind of love.”

“I’m not comfortable with you associating that word with people we don’t know.”

“Valentino’s right. If feelings are involved, we definitely have to have a conversation.”

“Stop! You two are the absolute worst.”

A contrite look enters Tácito’s gaze, though I question how remorseful he is. “I don’t think we can budge on this. We want in that room when you see the ultrasound and to we want to ask questions about you and the baby’s progress.”

“And I want assurance that my doctor will live a long happy life with no interference from either of you.”

Tácito and I stare at each other, silently weighing our options. Before embarking on this trip, I joked with Sansone that blinding the doctor could be a viable compromise, but Sloane’s folded arms and militant expression say otherwise.

“What if—”

“No mysterious injuries either Valentino.”

“Principessa, be reasonable.”

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