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ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHT.
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Don Valentinos Farfalla And Heiress ONE HUNDRED AND NINE.
Tilting my head, I meet his hot gaze and my mind goes blank, my core tightens.I know I'm gazing up into the eyes of the most dangerous, most ruthless and vicious man; possibly one of the most formidable men in the world. Yet, my body refuses to register that. Instead my of body trembling, my skin prickles with goosebumps. “I understand how you feel, Farfalla. But that does not give you the right or the excuse to act like a spoiled brat. You must not use vulgar language when speaking to the detective in charge of your aunt's case; otherwise, the case will be closed. And you will never, and I mean never, put your hands on me in public again. Do I make myself clear?” His tone is terrifyingly low and gruff, sending a ripple of awareness through my feverish frame.Abruptly, my body catches up with my mind and I stiffen at the sound of his voice. “I'm sorry,” I whisper meekly, panting. “I don't know what came over me, but without you here, I'd be a wreck. So, please... Alessandro, don't
Don Valentinos Farfalla And Heiress ONE HUNDRED AND TEN.
ALESSANDRO, AKA DON VALENTINO. Staring straight ahead, I watch as a man dressed in all black draws closer towards us. The hairs on my neck stand up and I possessively pull Ivy into my side, reaching behind my back and placing my trigger-happy fingers on the gun. One move. That's all it will take. One wrong motion and I will shoot the bastardo right between his fucking eyes. As the doors to the elevator slide shut, he stops, slowly raising his head, and he locks eyes with Ivy as a wicked smile erupts across his face. A gasp falls from Ivys’ lips, and I can feel her body trembling at my side. I shift, looking at her pale face. She looks like she's just seen a ghost. Whoever that man is, she knows him, and she is fucking terrified. I slam my hand against the emergency stop button and the elevator comes to a screeching standstill. Curling my hands around her face, I step in front of her, slightly bending at the knees, so I can look her in the eyes. “Farfalla?” I whisper,
Don Valentinos Farfalla And Heiress ONE HUNDRED AND ELEVEN.
He frowns, causing fine lines to appear on his otherwise flawless skin, and exhales with displeasure.“Worthy of bearing my name?” He grumbles, letting go of my chin, and he yanks at the wires by the steering wheel, killing the engine. “Where is this coming from, Ivy?” “From here,” I place my palm across my chest over my pounding heart. “And here.” Raising my hand, I tap my index finger on the side of my throbbing temple. “I want you to show me how to take control of a dangerous situation, how to suppress my fear, so it won't screw with my better judgement and how to fire a weapon, or at least throw a good punch.” I plead, shamelessly. Two burly men approach the car, and just by looking at them, you can tell they are Lorenzos’ comrades from his time spent in the New Zealand Army.Dressed in their combat gear, they stand out like sore thumbs without a care in the world, yet prepared to take on the world at the same time.Alessandro looks at them, and he holds up two fingers, gesturin
Don Valentinos Farfalla And Heiress ONE HUNDRED AND TWELVE.
I jolt awake, falling off the side of the bed, and scramble to the nearest corner of the room, tucking my legs up to my chest and under my chin. Yanking on the roots of my damp hair, I squeeze my eyes shut, suppressing the wails of torment, agony, and suffering from escaping past my lips. The suite is pitch black and silent. Not a sound can be heard, and that's what terrifies me most.Where is everyone?Where is Alessandro?'It was a dream, just a stupid, stupid dream that felt all too real, raw, and fresh,' My inner goddess wails for me. “Ivy. Ivy!” The bedroom door crashes open, slamming against the wall with a resounding thud as Alessandro barges into the room. My body trembles and I rock back and forth, slapping the sides of my head.The images of my night terrors won't fade, the sound of Joel's voice is too loud, and the sensation of his touch intensely licks my skin. A warm pair of hands reaches out, touching my wrists, trying to prevent me from hitting myself.I flinch,
Don Valentinos Farfalla And Heiress ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTEEN.
ALESSANDRO, AKA DON VALENTINO.In the past, I have murdered.I have intimidated.I have brutalised, and I have been cold-blooded.And tonight, I'll do it all over again with a fucking smile on my face.I step into the hotel's basement, leaving Zeke and Milford at the door on guard duty. A certain face looks up at me, and my hands automatically curl into tight balls of fury at my sides. This sack of merda in front of me, on his knees, has caused me so much unnecessary fucking grief, anger, and hostility. The look of him all beaten up doesn't break my heart, nor does it flutter for him out of pity. His split bottom lip with dried blood, the bruises smeared across his face and his black eye has no emotional effect on me. If anything, he hasn't endured anything close enough to what my Ivy has. I stare down at him as he looks up at me and a glimmer of fear gleams in his eyes, but it only lasts for a split second before it completely vanishes. And for that split second, it brings an
Don Valentinos Farfalla And Heiress ONE HUNDRED AND FOURTEEN.
I stir in my sleep, tossing and turning in the sheets as I pry my eyes open. The room is dimly lit with the lavish curtains pulled shut as a glimmer of light peeks through the tiny slit where the curtains join. I roll onto my back, looking up at the ceiling, brushing a hand over my face, and then rubbing my sleepy eyes.Taking a moment to reflect on yesterday's events, everything quickly comes crashing back to me. Aunt Mae is dead. She is gone, never coming back, and I'll never get to see her face or hear her sweet voice that could soothe the fire burning through my veins when I'd have my dark days. Then there is Joel Thompson. He is responsible for Aunt Maes’ death. He, too, is most likely dead. And in all honesty, I don't feel a thing. I feel numb with a strong desire, hoping that Alessandro made him suffer like he has made me suffer all these years. Sighing, I take a moment to reflect on the conversation Alessandro and I had as he held me in his arms until we both fell into
Don Valentinos Farfalla And Heiress ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN.
THREE DAYs LATER.We received a call from the coroner's office yesterday afternoon indicating that we may come through early this morning to pick up Aunt Mae. All they requested was that we bring something unique to place her ashes in.I informed Alessandro and told him that I intended to go into town to look for something special. He took me by the hand and led me to the room we were sharing, and he opened the closet door, extracting a paper bag that sat on the top shelf. “What's this?” I asked him with big round eyes as he passed the paper bag to me. “Open it and find out.” He said with his voice faintly trembling. I took the bag from his outstretched hands and a gasp fell from my lips as I retrieved what was inside the paper bag.“Is this for Aunt Mae?” “It is.” He smiled, licking his lips. “I knew you'd want something special, so I got the box specially made yesterday. Zeke picked it up as you took an afternoon nap.” I placed the box down beside me, jumping up to my feet,
Don Valentinos Farfalla And Heiress ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTEEN.
We all gather around the dining table for dinner. Alessandro at the head of the table, myself at his right, Savannah at my left and Mrs DeLuca straight across from me. I watch as she flicks her wrists, unfolding the white cotton napkin and draping it over her knees, my eyes slightly narrowing into thin lines of irritation. Our gazes connect as she raises her head, and plasters a phony-ass smile across her wrinkled old face. My nails tap over the tabletop in a galloping motion, and she picks up her glass of red wine and takes a sip, her gaze fixed above the rim. I don't hide the look of scorn that flashes through my eyes. “Alessandro.” I hum with my gaze never leaving hers. “Si, amore mio.” He answers thickly. “Have you had the chance to tell Savannah the good news yet?” I ask with a smirk tugging on the corner of my mouth. “Good news?” Savannah pipes up, leaning over the table to look at Alessandro. “What good news?” She inquiries with excitement. Alessandro chuckles at Sav
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