Chapter 565: I Was Worried About Her
"Where have you been?" Marco asked.
Her heart dropped. "I..." She blinked. "Uh... I... I was with Vee," she stammered. "I wanted to... uhm... see if she needed any help. She left the hospital so suddenly, I was worried about her."
Marco nodded. "Hmmm..."
Val swallowed. "Welcome home," she said quickly. "How long are you staying for?"
"For however long Luca needs me here."
"Of course." She smiled again.
It was getting worse. She could feel it. Her face was becoming a theatre of bad acting, and her husband had unfortunately bought front-row seats.
"I... I’ll have the kitchen make you something."
Marco nodded. Val turned and left the nursery before her mouth decided to ruin her life. Marco remained where he was, watching the empty doorway.
The smile left his face.
Slowly.
He turned back to Matteo. The baby had no interest in adult misery. He was crawling towards a colourful toy in the corner. "Hey, little man...do you have any idea why your mama just lied to me, uhn?"
Matteo continued towards the toy, slapped one hand down triumphantly when he reached it, then tried to put the corner of it into his mouth.
Marco crossed the room and crouched beside him. His son was crawling. Marco had missed it. He reached out and brushed his fingers over Matteo’s curls. "You’re doing great...You’ll be lifting weights soon, uhn?"
Matteo babbled in response. Marco laughed. Then he picked up the toy, placed it a little farther away, and watched as Matteo turned serious again, clearly offended by the new challenge but willing to conquer it. Marco clapped softly when he moved.
"That’s it. Come on. Show me."
Matteo crawled again.
*****
"I already told you. I am not testifying against Luca!" Vito yelled at Voss.
Voss stood across from him, patience hanging by a thread. "Do you have any idea what it took to bring you here?" he snapped. "The state is bleeding money on your sorry, stinking ass?"
"Not my problem," Vito said.
Voss stared at him. He wondered if anyone would truly blame him for violence.
Probably.
There were laws about these things. So much paperwork. The entire justice system would become instantly passionate if he decided to punch the piece of garbage in the throat.
"I have half a mind to slap cuffs around your wrists right now and throw you in jail instead," Voss yelled.
Vito’s mouth curled. "Well, you can’t."
The anger he had been holding behind his badge finally showed its teeth.
"Paul Marino was my father, you stupid son of a bitch!"
Vito recoiled backwards. He had no idea.
"The man raised me even when I wasn’t his blood," he said. "He chose me. He fed me. He taught me how to throw a punch which, by the way, was more useful than anything your sorry ass ever taught your daughters. I have to stand here and look at the man who ordered his death. I have to protect him. I have to make sure he gets his disgusting little demands considered by the DA because he might help me put away someone worse."
"Do you know how sick to my stomach I feel?"
"You came to me," Vito said. "You came to me, okay? I didn’t look for you."
"Yeah, because you became useful after decades of being a waste. Your daughter wants you to save her. Do you understand that? For the first time in your miserable life, she is asking for your help."
"And until I talk to her, I ain’t doing shit," Vito said. "Either I talk to her, or you got no witness." He shrugged. "I talk to Valentina... then we talk testimony."
"I’ll arrange a meeting," Voss said.
Vito smiled. "See? How hard was that?"
Voss straightened slowly. "Just know you are putting both your lives in danger."
"If she truly needs help from me," he said, "then our lives are already in danger."
Voss turned towards the door before his temper betrayed the case. "Sit tight, asshole. Fucking excuse of a human being," he spat as he marched out of the room.
*****
Luca was downstairs quite early, distractedly making himself a cup of coffee. He stood in the kitchen, bare-chested beneath his robe, staring at the coffee machine. The cup filled slowly. Everything felt too slow. He had not slept and had spent the whole night arguing with himself. He took the cup when it was ready and leaned against the counter, the first bitter sip doing absolutely nothing to fix him.
Truth be told, he was afraid.
Truly afraid.
He had been gathering the nerve to tell his wife. How did one deal with an enemy one could not kill?
Or rather, one did not want to kill?
He sipped his coffee again. Valentina had crossed lines the famiglia would never forgive if they knew. By their laws, by every brutal tradition Massimo had taught him and every bloody consequence Luca had enforced. He knew exactly where Vee’s loyalties lay.
She had proven it. She had once chosen to shoot herself rather than turn the gun on him. That memory still lived in him. Veronica loved him. She loved him with violence in it. With a stubbornness that made death look negotiable.
But Valentina was the girl Vee had protected long before Luca entered her life. Val was blood from childhood. Val was hunger shared. Val was the person Vee had sacrificed for before she knew love.
And now the two most important loyalties in Vee’s life were standing on opposite sides of a blade.
He had no idea which way she would swing. Would she choose to save her sister and incur the wrath of the famiglia?
Would she choose him and carry guilt for the rest of her life?
He knew one thing anyway. Whatever she chose, he would be right behind her.
Right there.
Obsessively choosing it with her. Even if it ruined him.
He finished his coffee, set the cup down, and moved into the living room. The television was on low, the morning news spilling quiet nonsense into the room. Luca stood barefoot in front of it, eyes on the screen but mind nowhere near it.
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