The Hitman's Secret

Ch 30: Sweetest Deceit

VALENTINA

Matteo's apartment sat at the heart of Queens. It was the perfect location for him to squat during jobs in the city. Or for when he wanted to bring a lady-friend home without the chance of an awkward run-in with his mother the next morning.

Val did a quick sweep of the apartment as soon as she stepped inside. White walls without a frame to be seen. A single, L-shaped couch in front of a fireplace and television. A modern-esque kitchen with immaculately clean counters and a tacky artificial plant as the only decoration.

It showed no signs of life. If she didn't know any better, she'd guess that the apartment had been vacant for months.

"Nice place," she commented, not sure if she meant the words as a compliment or dry insult. It was nice. Only empty.

Behind her, Matteo shut the front door, turned the lock, and tossed his keys on the counter. He grunted. "It does the job."

Val walked further into the main space. A single hallway beside the kitchen must've led to the bedroom and bathroom. "How often do you stay here?"

"A few nights a month." She looked over her shoulder in time to see him shrug. He flipped a lightswitch in the kitchen and speared toward the refrigerator. "Less often than I used to."

"Why is that?" Val questioned, watching his every move. She couldn't shake the unease knotting in her gut but also found herself wanting to avoid a harder conversation, even just for a few more minutes.

Matteo opened the refrigerator, his strong forearm flexing as he gripped the handle, but he refrained from searching inside. Instead, he turned to face her, and his eyes never faltered as he answered. "I prefer to keep you close, principessa."

Val's heart skipped a beat, and she felt a blush rise to her cheeks.

Before she completely melted beneath his intense gaze, she turned away from him and the kitchen and pretended to investigate the living room. Of course, there was nothing of interest to catch her attention. Even so, she moved toward the window in pursuit of mental clarity.

"Is that why you asked me on a date tonight?" Her voice cracked despite her best efforts to maintain an unbothered mask. "To keep me close."

Behind her, the refrigerator door closed, and heavy footsteps traveled closer. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

She swallowed, staring at a flickering streetlight below. "Well, you know what they say. Keep your friends close and all that shit." The words sounded hollow on her tongue.

"You don't actually believe that," he countered, gruff and angry at the underlying accusation of her statement.

Val frowned and finally willed herself to look at him again. He stood surprisingly close, two glasses of whiskey in hand. "I don't know what to believe right now."

"Then sit down," he murmured, imploring."Let me try to fix this, baby."

Baby. She felt the tender nickname like a knife to the chest, and her resolve crumbled. With a small nod, she let Matteo lead her toward the couch and sank down on the cushions. He placed one of the glasses on the coffee table in front of her and kept the other for himself, taking a healthy swig as he sat.

Although she wanted to keep a clear head for this, Val found herself reaching for the whiskey as well. Alcohol always made the hard conversations a bit easier.

Matteo put his glass back and braced both elbows on his knees. He stared ahead for a minute, as if collecting himself before finally shifting to face her on the couch. In the dim lighting, the bruising surrounding his injured eye appeared several shades darker.