The Hitman's Secret

Ch. 31: A Pissing Match

VALENTINA

Once every quarter, Val's family hosted a dinner party for the capos and their wives.

As a girl, Val was never invited. Her mother always tucked her away with a nanny for the evening. When she got older, Val sometimes tried to sneak downstairs to take a peek at what she was missing, but her father's guards always managed to catch her before she could interrupt the dinner. These parties were shrouded in mystery.

Now, as Val sat on the right-hand side of her father, surrounded by his most high-ranking capos and associates, she realized that her inability to attend all those years ago had been a mercy.

This dinner was hell.

"One of my cousins in Boston said that the Irish are looking to expand," one of the capos, an older man with a receding hairline and two chins, grunted.

He sliced through another bite of mutton and shoved it into his mouth, barely chewing it before opening his mouth once more. Disgusting. "Wouldn't be surprised if the Kings decide to come sniffing around the Cosa Nostra."

Adriano, who sat on the other side of Val and had one hand resting on Elisa's leg beneath the table, grinned like he wanted a fight. "I say let them come."

At the head of the table, Leonardo considered this while sipping his wine. He sat at the head of the table, Val and Lara on either side of him. There was a gleam of interest in his dark eyes, and the entire table quieted.

Val looked between the men, eager to hear her father's response on the matter. If the Irish truly decided to make a base in New York, it would cause all sorts of trouble for the famiglia. They had enough trouble with the Bratva.

And yet, before her father could offer his opinion, Lara placed her hand on his forearm and offered a sparkling white smile. "Come now, amor mio. Isn't that a better conversation for after supper?"

Val's spoon paused halfway to her mouth in shock, her shoulders hunching as she prepared for her father's rage.

It never came. Instead, Leonardo answered Lara's smile with a grin of his own before fanning his gaze to the rest of the dining room table. Nearly two dozen men and women watched the exchange.

"Indeed," he murmured, squeezing Lara's hand. "We'll discuss the Irish Kings when we move into the drawing room. No talk of business."

Val nearly choked on nothing. All it took was a son growing in Lara's stomach to give the woman complete control over one of the most dangerous men in New York. Unfathomable.

She watched as Leonardo scanned the table, pausing when his eyes landed on an old, obscenely thin man seated at the far end. Whereas most of the capos brought their wives with them to the dinner, this man sat alone.

"Aldo," her father drawled, still holding Lara's hand. "Have you made any progress tracking down your wife?"

Aldo's answering scowl spoke volumes. "We've managed to track the bitch's movements to Europe. My contacts are searching for her there. We believe she had help state-side. Teresa isn't smart enough to have accomplished this alone."

The blood drained from Val's cheeks, and she chose to focus all of her attention on her soup.

It had been three weeks since Matteo informed her of his plans to help Teresa escape her abusive husband. Despite Val's initial doubts about the truthfulness of his claims, they disappeared as soon as she received word that, a week later, Teresa vanished.

Aldo's fury was tangible, even as her father promised to offer whatever resources the capo needed to find his traitorous wife.

Val suppressed a shudder and prayed that Teresa wouldn't be found. She'd humiliated her husband, and Val wouldn't wish the resulting punishment on anyone.