The Hitman's Secret

Ch. 25: No More Lies

VALENTINA

Val slipped back into her floor-length gown, her heart lighter than it'd felt in months.

She'd finished tending to Matteo's various bumps and bruises, a small smile playing on her lips the entire time.

A part of her didn't want to believe that this was finally happening. It wanted to protect her from the possibility of getting hurt again. And yet... She'd seen the conviction pooling in Matteo's eyes. Heard the honesty and affection in his words. She trusted him.

For months, she'd trusted him with her body. Now, it was time to trust him with her heart.

"Be careful when you leave," Matteo warned, readjusting the towel that hung low on his hips. His eye was nearly swollen shut, but at least the bleeding had stopped.

Val twisted, grappling with her zipper and tossing an easygoing smile over her shoulder. "Worried we're going to get caught?"

He chuckled, stepping forward and placing his hands on hers, stilling her attempts to redress. "I'm worried the whole building will be awfully suspicious when you reappear with wet hair and water on your dress."

"I think you overestimate the sobriety in this place," Val quipped, dropping her hands to allow him to zip up her dress for her. "No one is going to pay any attention to me."

Matteo's knuckle brushed against a sliver of skin on her back, and the hair on her neck stood tall. Dio, she never imagined she would crave someone's touch so much.

"You underestimate the impact you have on people," he murmured, his breath tickling her ear. She shivered, heat slipping down her spine. "You walk into a room and the world stills. You capture everyone's interest. It's always been that way with you."

Val blinked, taken aback by his words. She turned to face him again, the breath catching in her throat at his close proximity. "Always?"

One corner of his lips curled into a smirk, and he nodded. "I remember the first time I saw you. I'd been guarding your father for a month, and he'd just returned home after a two week trip to Italy."

She tried and failed to recall the specific instance. In truth, her father came and went on so many business trips throughout her girlhood, they all blurred together.

"We were preparing for a meeting with the capos when you stormed into your father's office," he continued. "You were wearing your school uniform and had that awful blonde dye job in your hair."

"Awful?" Val scoffed, unable to hold back her laughter. She couldn't be angry. The blonde hair in highschool had been... regrettable. "All of my friends had blonde hair."

"If all your friends jumped off a bridge, would you?" he teased, cocking a brow.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms against her chest. "You were saying?" she urged, wanting to move on from her questionable fashion choices as a teenager.

He chuckled, clearly amused by the situation, but proceeded. "Well, you didn't even knock. Just barged into the don's office. You were pissed that he'd missed the last soccer game of your senior season."

Suddenly, the memory of that night came back to Val. She'd played soccer all four years of high school but never saw the field more than ten minutes collectively over the seasons. She was never very good and mainly signed up for the sake of spending time with her friends after school.

But, every year during the last game of the season, the coach allowed each senior to play, even the hopelessly untalented ones like Val. Her father had never bothered to come to a game in the past, but he promised to come to that last game to watch her finally play. When she stepped on the field and failed to see him in the stands... Well, it broke her heart.