Chapter 4

Valentina's POV

I returned to my room at 3 AM.

The moment I opened the door, a figure emerged from the shadows.

"You're back?" Franco's voice cut through the darkness.

I jumped, quickly turning on the lights. "Franco? What are you doing here?"

He slowly approached, his face terrifyingly grim. "I should be asking you that. Where were you this late?"

I'm SCREWED!

I tried to stay calm. "I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk."

"A walk?" He sneered. "All the way to Chinatown?"

My heart rate spiked instantly. He knew?

Franco suddenly grabbed my wrist, his grip painful. "You think I don't know what happened tonight?"

"Franco, you're hurting me..."

"Hurting you?" His hand moved to my neck, caressing it, but the touch was full of menace. "Valentina, our relationship doesn't allow for ANY betrayal."

I tried to push him away, but he was too strong. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Franco suddenly gripped my chin hard, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Don't know? Then why do you smell like another man?"

DAMN!

I should have showered!

"I..."

"You went to see him, didn't you?" Dangerous light flashed in Franco's eyes. "My dear nephew."

"NO!" I immediately denied. "I just happened to run into gunfire—he saved me!"

"Saved you?" Franco released my chin but then pressed me against the wall, his entire body pinning me. "And then what? Where did you two go?"

I could feel his rage and possessiveness—the pressure made it hard to breathe.

"A small room... we were just hiding from bullets..."

"Just hiding?" His hand slid to my waist, gripping hard. "Then why are your clothes so wrinkled? Why are your lips swollen?"

I couldn't answer because everything he said was true.

Franco stared at me for a long time, then suddenly stepped back.

"You're in love with him." It wasn't a question—it was a statement.

"NO!" I immediately protested. "Franco, are you CRAZY? How could I love him? I'm here for REVENGE!"

"Really?" He sneered. "Then why didn't you kill him? Tonight was the perfect opportunity!"

"He's too alert. I... I couldn't find the chance..."

"Couldn't find the chance?" Franco's laugh was cold. "Or you couldn't bring yourself to do it?"

I shook my head frantically. "That's not it! Franco, you have to believe me! He's too suspicious—I need more time..."

Franco suddenly grabbed my shoulders, shaking me violently. "Time? You've WASTED enough time already!"

"I need to earn his trust!" I shouted. "You think killing a mafia heir is EASY?"

Franco stared at me for a long moment, the suspicion in his eyes gradually fading.

"You better not be lying to me, Valentina." His voice was low, threatening. "Because if you betray me, you know what happens."

I knew. Franco wasn't the type to show mercy. If he discovered I had feelings for Matteo...

"I won't betray you," I said softly. "We're in this together, remember?"

Franco studied me, finally nodding. "Good. But Valentina, my patience has LIMITS."

He walked toward the door, stopping at the threshold. "One month. I'm giving you one month. If you still can't go through with it..."

He didn't finish, but the threat was clear.

After Franco left, I collapsed on the bed, trembling all over.

What the HELL am I doing?

Everything that happened with Matteo tonight had completely confused me. I was supposed to hate him, supposed to kill him for revenge.

But when he kissed me, when we held each other tight...

DAMN! Am I really falling for him?

If so, what should I do?

Franco wouldn't let me go. And Matteo... if he knew I killed his father, knew I approached him only to kill him...

I held my head, feeling unprecedented despair.

I'm TRAPPED.

Choosing either side meant betraying the other. And the price of betrayal could be death.

---

A few days later, in the Rossi family meeting room, over a dozen core family members sat along both sides of the long conference table.

Matteo sat at the head, reviewing financial reports. "West dock revenue is down 12% from last month."

"That's normal," Franco said calmly, raising his whiskey glass. "With recent instability, our partners are being cautious."

"Cautious?" Matteo looked up. "Or because they're not sure who's really in charge?"

The room fell silent instantly. Several older family members exchanged glances, looking uncomfortable.

Franco set down his glass with a smile. "What do you mean by that, Matteo?"

"Nothing special, Uncle." Matteo closed the file. "Just think we might need to send a clear message—leadership of the Rossi family has never changed."

"Of course it hasn't." Franco nodded in agreement, then shifted direction. "But young people tend to be impulsive. Perhaps some decisions need guidance from more experienced voices."

Tony Marcelli—a family elder in his fifties sitting to Franco's right—cleared his throat. "Franco has a point. Salvatore always said young men need tempering."

"Yes," another member agreed. "Maybe we should consider forming an advisory board..."

Matteo's gaze swept across their faces, taking in every expression. He could clearly see that Franco had won over at least half of them.

"Advisory board?" Matteo sneered. "You think I need advisors?"

"Not need," Franco said mildly. "For family unity and stability. After all, collective decisions are always safer than individual judgment."

Matteo suddenly stood up, everyone looking at him. The room's atmosphere instantly tensioned.

"Gentlemen, my father passed the family to me—not to seek your permission. If anyone has a problem with that..."

His gaze lingered on each face before settling on Franco. "The door's right there."

Franco narrowed his eyes. "Of course, Matteo. We all support your leadership. I just hope you'll consider the family's overall interests."

"I will." Matteo sat back down. "Meeting's over."

People left one by one, Franco being the last. At the door, he glanced back at Matteo, cold light flashing in his eyes.

After everyone left, Matteo sat alone in the meeting room, contemplating what had just transpired.

Franco's ambitions were now fully exposed. He was trying to divide the family internally, weaken Matteo's authority. More dangerously, he'd already successfully bought off many people.

Looks like Uncle can't wait any longer.

Matteo walked to the window, looking out at the night. He needed to act before Franco gained complete control.