“My name’s Matteo, and I’m a Capo in the Valentino family. And I’m the father of your unborn child.”
She sucked in a shocked gasp, covered her mouth, then pressed herself against the far side of the truck. The color drained from her face. She looked like she wanted to scream but was barely holding herself together.
“Valentino,” she whispered. “Oh my god.”
“Now you understand how fucked we are,” I said and glanced at her. “But I swear, I wasn’t lying when I said I’d take care of you.”
She groaned, and I couldn’t tell if it was fear or something else, and I kept driving.
4
Sam
He took me over the South Street Bridge and into the neighborhoods to the left. I stared at him, trying to come to grips with what he said back there, with the sudden violence, with everything.
He was Valentino. An actual Valentino soldier, or maybe some kind of spy. I didn’t understand how he could’ve gotten into that party—the invitations were extremely limited and the location changed all the time—but I was kicking myself for letting my guard down.
For once in my stupid, sad life, I decided to do something adventurous. I normally played it so safe and didn’t do anything to put myself or my family at risk, and the one time I stepped out of bounds, the one time I decided to let loose and do something stupid, I paid the price for it.
By getting pregnant by the enemy.
He parked the truck in front of a nice little house in the middle of a quiet block. The window boxes were stuffed with hanging vines and flowering plants and the door was painted a slick black. He got out and walked up the stoop, but I didn’t move.
He came back down and knocked on the window. “Come on,” he said. “Don’t make a scene. My neighbors aren’t in the family.”
“I don’t want to go inside.”
He sighed and rubbed his eyes. Then he yanked the door open before I could think to lock it.
I shrank away from him, a scream on the edge of my lips.
But he held up his hands and didn’t try to grab me.
“Look, I know what you’re feeling,” he said. “I should’ve told you that I was Valentino from the start, but would you have stayed that night if you knew?”
“No,” I said. “And you should’ve given me the chance to run off.”
He clenched his jaw. “I was at that party for a reason,” he said, and seemed about to say something else, but stopped himself. “You would’ve left if I said anything, okay? You would’ve told someone, and that would’ve been a problem.”
“So you slept with me instead,” I said, face tugged back in a mask of disgust. “Oh my god, did you only do it because I was good cover?”
“No, absolutely not.” Then he hesitated and added, “Although I did bring you upstairs because you were a good excuse.”
“Oh my god, you fucking asshole. Get away from me.”
He grimaced like I’d punched him in the throat then leaned closer. “I didn’t know what was going to happen between us, okay? You were a good excuse to get upstairs, but everything that happened afterwards was real.”
“I don’t believe you. Take me back home. Right now.”
He rubbed his temple. “I can’t do that.”
“Then I’m going to scream and you can explain that to your neighbors.”
He gave me an angry stare. “Think for a second, will you? Those guys I got in a fight with, the ones I pulled a gun on? They’re going to run back and tell your family that you got in the truck with me. They’re going to know.”
I opened my mouth then slammed it shut again. I hated that he was right, and hated even more that it scared the hell out of me. “They don’t know you’re Valentino.”
“Oh, so it’s fine for you to lie, then?”
“Only when it’s life or death,” I said, throwing up my hands.
“And for me that night, it was life or death.” He shook his head slowly. “Come on, Sam. Come inside and let’s talk about this.”
I felt dizzy and shifted in the seat away from him. I had to think—had to come up with some way out of this. He was right that my father and the rest would know I ran off with some guy, and they might even realize that he’s Valentino. But if they didn’t figure that part out, it won’t be so bad.
At least until I tell them I’m pregnant.
God, what a nightmare. Pregnant and by a Valentino, and now I was stuck with him, because I couldn’t go back. Not yet anyway, not until I was sure they didn’t know whose side he was on.
I unclipped the seatbelt.
“We’ll talk,” I said. “And that’s all. Then I’m going to leave, okay?”
“Whatever you want.” He offered me his hand, but I brushed it aside and got out of the truck myself. My feet were sore from running in the heels and I thought I might have a blister but I wasn’t about to take his help if I didn’t need it.