Mafiosa (Blood for Blood #3)(24)

‘That’s exactly what I want you to do.’

‘Well, that is ridiculous.’ I brandished the paper between us. ‘You have seriously lost your mind.’

He raised a hand. ‘Put that away. Don’t show it to anyone else. When you go, you have to disappear. Don’t tell another soul the address on that piece of paper.’

I narrowed my eyes at the hurried script. ‘Who is this? And why would they owe you anything?’

He pursed his lips together. Another secret he would not relinquish. He was a fool to give this to me. As if I would ever listen to him. As if I still cared for any of his stupid, reckless advice. My fight was here, in Chicago. My fight was in the underworld, just as his was.

‘I’m not a monster, Sophie.’

I blew out a sigh. I had reached my threshold for this particular genre of conversation. All assassins were the same – deluded – and I was done being the resident counsellor. I was done with second chances, third chances. I could make up my own mind about who to trust from now on; that much had become very clear. ‘How long are you out for?’ I said, eyeing the prison guard.

‘They granted me furlough for the ceremony.’

‘Well, it’s over now. You can take off again.’

I was still inching away, trying to distance myself from the love I used to have for this man, from all the admiration and respect that was now smouldering inside me – a wasteland of childhood affection. ‘Soph, will you do what I said?’

I looked down at the note. I looked at his face.

‘If you prove your loyalty.’ I kept my gaze as steely as his own. ‘Show me that after everything, you’re on our side. Mine and Mom’s. Tell me where Jack is hiding.’

He drew in a loaded breath, his chest puffing out. ‘I won’t do that.’

I crumpled the note and threw it at his feet. ‘Then I can’t trust you.’





CHAPTER TEN


TARGET




‘Sophie.’ Valentino’s voice cut through my mental assessment of his office. The velvet drapes, the mahogany desk, the expensive leather chairs, the dark wood cabinets. ‘Are you ready to pay attention to me now?’

I turned back to him, dragging my gaze from a particularly opulent lamp in the corner of the room. ‘I was just … taking it all in.’ I tried to get comfortable in my chair, but I couldn’t. The leather squeaked under my attempts, drowning out Bach or Vivaldi or Beethoven or whoever was needlessly upping the dramatics.

I settled under his gaze, and wished he had asked one of the others to come in with me. A one-on-one meeting with the Falcone boss was not high on my bucket list.

He tapped his fingers along the desk, a careful drumming, perfectly in time with the music.

‘How was school?’ he asked blithely.

‘Do you really care?’ I asked. Valentino didn’t do small talk.

He was leaning back in his chair. He picked up a pencil and twirled it around, catching and releasing it between his fingers. ‘No, not especially.’

The pencil was quite captivating. ‘Your dexterity is commendable.’

‘How are you settling in?’ he said, the pencil still moving round and round. It was like he was trying to distract me. A test. I kept my gaze forward.

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Felice notwithstanding.’

‘Unfortunately, Felice’s presence here cannot be helped.’ So Valentino didn’t think too highly of Felice either. Interesting. See also: unsurprising. ‘Nic says you’re a natural shooter.’

‘Yeah, I’m OK,’ I said, trying to sound modest. Luca hadn’t come home the night before, so Nic and I had managed to squeeze in another session out in the barn. ‘I’m a quick learner.’

‘It’s obviously in your blood,’ Valentino said.

‘Must be.’ Dimples and marksmanship. Thanks, Dad.

Valentino flipped the subject. ‘You went walkabout yesterday.’

‘I was having a ceremony for my mother.’

He clamped the pencil in his fist. ‘Don’t do that again.’

‘In my experience you can only scatter ashes to the wind once. They’re very hard to collect after that.’

‘Do you think you’re funny?’

‘With the right audience.’ My heart was hammering in my chest.

‘I don’t enjoy sarcasm,’ he said pointedly. ‘Just so you’re aware.’

Well, then, you are not going to enjoy me very much. ‘Right,’ I said, shifting again in my seat. The leather was cold on my hands. I tucked them under my legs to keep them warm. ‘Is that why I’m here? Because of yesterday?’ I studied his reaction – that stony impassivity. Did he know that my dad had been there? That we had spoken? How much had Luca said to him?

Valentino shook his head. ‘I thought it would be best to get that little matter of housekeeping out of the way first. Don’t go walkabout again without telling us first. It’s a drastic waste of time and manpower, and given that we’re in the middle of a blood war, I’m sure you can see how unfathomably stupid it was.’ He pinned me with those sapphire eyes, and then pulled his lips back a fraction, so I could see a hint of his canines. ‘Can’t you?’