CCHAPTER 6

Valentina stormed into the De Luca mansion, the grand foyer echoing with the sharp clack of her heels. Her chest heaved with anger as she fought to keep her emotions in check. The absurdity of the situation gnawed at her sanity, and the taste of betrayal lingered on her tongue.

“Val?” a soft voice called from the sitting room.

She glanced over to find her mother, Isabella De Luca, elegantly draped in a deep green dress, sitting with a cup of tea. Isabella’s emerald eyes, so similar to her daughter’s, softened with concern. “What happened?”

Valentina barely managed to keep from screaming. “What happened?” she echoed, voice strained. “Oh, nothing much. Just that I’ve been thrown to the wolves, that’s all.”

Isabella frowned, setting her cup down gracefully. “Come here, tesoro.”

Valentina hesitated, but when her mother opened her arms, she couldn’t resist. She sank into Isabella’s embrace, clinging to her like she had as a child. Isabella stroked her hair gently, soothing the tension knotted in Valentina’s shoulders.

“They want me to marry that bastard Romano,” Valentina whispered harshly. “To tie the families together. As if that’ll solve anything.”

Isabella sighed, brushing her fingers through Valentina’s dark curls. “Your father mentioned it. He believes it’s the only way to secure peace.”

Valentina pulled back, eyes blazing. “Peace? It’s a joke. They can’t seriously think forcing me to marry that arrogant asshole will fix years of hatred. He pointed a gun at Luca! At me!”

Isabella gave her a sad smile. “You and Matteo are both hot-headed. Maybe that’s why your father thinks it will work—no one will dare challenge such a strong union.”

Valentina scoffed. “Or they’ll just kill us both. We barely kept from shooting each other tonight.”

Her mother sighed, cupping Valentina’s face gently. “I know it’s unfair. I know you’re angry. But sometimes, we do things we hate for the good of the family.”

Valentina pulled away, pacing the room. “It’s not just that. It’s him. Matteo Romano. He thinks he owns every room he walks into. Acts like he’s untouchable. And now I’m supposed to play house with him?”

Isabella smiled faintly. “You’re strong, Valentina. If anyone can put a Romano in his place, it’s you.”

Valentina couldn’t help but smirk at that. “Damn right.”

Suddenly, the shrill ring of Isabella’s phone cut through the room. She picked it up, her face paling as she listened. “What? When?”

Valentina’s stomach twisted with unease. “What happened?”

Isabella hung up, her lips pressed into a thin line. “The warehouse out south—near Riverside. It’s gone. Bombed. No survivors.”

Valentina’s blood ran cold. “Riverside? That’s one of our biggest distribution centers.”

Luca burst into the room, his expression grim. “Val, Mom, you heard?”

Valentina nodded, her hands trembling with anger. “Who did it?”

He shook his head. “No idea yet. But it’s not just us. One of the Romano docks on the west end blew up an hour ago. They might think it was us.”

Valentina cursed under her breath. “Someone’s trying to pit us against each other—again.”

Sofia, who had just joined them, frowned. “Or it’s a warning. A declaration of war from a third party.”

Valentina’s jaw clenched. “Whatever it is, it’s working. The Romanos will think it’s retaliation for the dock.”

Matteo’s POV

Matteo leaned against the worn leather of his uncle’s office chair, a glass of whiskey in his hand. The room buzzed with conversation—Lorenzo, Rocco, and Nico discussing the insanity of the proposed marriage.

“They actually expect you to marry that De Luca brat?” Nico snorted, swirling his drink.

Matteo smirked humorlessly. “Apparently. Dad thinks it’s the best way to keep the peace.”

Rocco grinned. “You sure didn’t look too thrilled about it.”

Matteo took a swig, savoring the burn down his throat. “The girl’s a menace. Always has been. She’d probably put a knife in my back before the vows are even exchanged.”

Lorenzo scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “Sounds like a perfect match, honestly. You both have a habit of shooting first and asking questions never.”

Before Matteo could respond, the door swung open, and one of their guards rushed in, breathless. “Boss! We got a problem!”

Antonio stood from behind his desk, eyes narrowed. “What now?”

The guard gulped. “One of our docks—the one on the west end—it’s gone. Blown to hell.”

“What?” Matteo barked, shoving off the desk.

“Who did it?” Antonio demanded, his voice a low growl.

“No sign yet, but it’s bad. No survivors. They hit hard.”

Matteo clenched his jaw, fury brewing under his skin. “First our dock, then one of their warehouses out south. Someone’s playing us against each other.”

Antonio nodded grimly. “We can’t afford to retaliate blindly. Find out who’s behind this before I make a move. If we hit the De Lucas now, it’ll start a war we can’t contain.”

Matteo’s hands tightened around his glass, and he shot it back, savoring the warmth as it settled in his gut. He couldn’t shake the image of Valentina’s defiant eyes, even through his frustration. They were being manipulated, pushed toward a war neither family could afford.

Lorenzo gave him a sideways glance. “You think she knows anything about this?”

Matteo shook his head. “No. Valentina’s reckless, but not stupid. She wouldn’t sabotage her own warehouse just to provoke us.”

Nico raised an eyebrow. “You almost sound like you trust her.”

Matteo scowled. “Trust has nothing to do with it. I just know how her mind works—she’s too proud to play games like this. If she wanted me dead, she’d do it herself, face to face.”

Antonio glanced at him, a calculating look in his eyes. “Get ready. We’re going to pay the De Lucas a visit. Make sure they know we’re not the ones pulling these stunts. We can’t let whoever’s behind this turn us against each other.”

Matteo nodded, adrenaline surging through his veins. As he headed for the door, he couldn’t help but wonder how Valentina would react when he showed up at her doorstep. One way or another, he’d have to face her again—and this time, he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to shoot her or kiss her senseless.