Capitolo Sei

One Week Later…

That first day wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Putting her ass in check by threatening to tell her brother proved to work. Valentina likes her personal life personal.

When we returned home, six hours later, she was too exhausted to be demanding, so after all those bags, all of them, were in her apartment, she went directly to her room and slept.

Sitting in the building’s foyer, I look over the file Vincent left with all the information about the secret and hostile takeover.

When Dominic and Valentina’s grandmother passed away, the company she owned with her second husband wasn’t doing well. His son Benito, a man who clearly thought he would have it all, was informed she had left shares to her estranged daughter, Valentina’s aunt, Josephina Steel, and her children, as well as Dominic and Valentina. This gained them a majority of the shares.

None of the children wanted control of all Segretti’s holdings, and now Benito DeLuca ran the majority of those in Italy. Dominic simply wanted the vineyards, where the family money came from, to flourish.

When Benito tried to ruin him, he fought back quietly. When Benito couldn’t bring him completely to his knees, he demolished the very place his parents had met and fell in love and built a massive glass building atop it.

There is information on the new tenant, Laney. From what I gather, Dominic has great affection for her. I also know Valentina is supposed to keep her distance, because he doesn’t want her to know he purchased the building when she decided to move in.

Much of Valentina’s shopping time was also spent on the phone with Dominic, so everything in the file, including Laney’s information, I already know.

As I wait for her arrival, I can’t help thinking about how much I am enjoying New York. More importantly, how much I enjoy less hostility.

My feisty, demanding, temper tantrum throwing, perpetual pain in the ass charge has been a little quieter since her and Dominic are spending more time together. This gives me ample opportunity to add to Cyrus Steel’s security; things that make my life easier.

I have added audio devices in Valentina’s apartment because it is what I am used to. I am used to hearing her. I am used to being able to tell from whatever tone I hear in her voice what her next move is.

In order to keep her safe, it’s necessary.

I am also creating more ways to put a distance between us.

The problem is, I have heard her laughing a lot as she binge-watches Netflix. I hear her cursing at the television and giving love advice to the actresses whose hearts are apparently breaking. She seems more … human.

I have also heard her in her room at night, getting herself off and cursing my name while doing it. Oddly, I take pleasure in this. She herself has ruined many a night for me, as well.

Karma.

With Dominic in Italy, and Valentina actually listening to him and his warning about safety under the duress her family is facing, the next two days go by without issue.

I also think she’s upset he left her behind. I almost feel sorry for her, only because I can see her through his eyes, like when we were kids.

When I receive a text from Dominic, telling me that the new tenant will be arriving shortly, I wait for the car to arrive.

The alarm on the balcony door in Valentina’s apartment chimes off and on, so I know she is also waiting for Signorina Laney’s arrival.

It’s a little satisfying to know I will be meeting her, and Valentina is not allowed, not yet.

When the car pulls up in front, I recognize Laney from her photo in the file and on her social media page.

I hate social media, but because Valentina is connected, I must watch it, as well.

Laney has two friends with her, all carrying boxes out of the car. I open the door.

“I’ll take those,” I tell them. They look shocked. I suppose I may be intimidating to them. “If there is more, we can store them in the second-floor apartment. It is under renovation now, signorina.”

“Thank you …” the woman I know to be Laney begins and stops.

“Franco,” I fill in for her.

“Thank you, Franco.” She smiles and looks around. “The new management seems to be doing a lot to the building. It’s changed since I signed the lease.”

“Yes, signorina—”

“Laney,” she corrects. “Please call me Laney.”

“Of course.” Although, I am sure I won’t.

“So, the tenants on floor two had to move?” she asks, seeming genuinely concerned.

“New management, signorina. Floor one will be offices. The fourth floor is the only other occupied at this time. It’s safe, signorina.”

When she looks at me in a questioning manner, I realize I may have spooked her a bit by telling her it’s safe. Not everyone understands how vital that is.

Then she smiles. “That’s great.”

Laney goes to work every day. Vincent follows her there and back. I offered, but he just laughed and told me, “Valentina is your headache.”

And a headache she was.

A woman like her hates to be cooped up, unless she is sad or angry. There is a fine line that gets blurred between both moods. Therefore, Valentina has been shopping. Every hour, a package is delivered, and she makes me open them.

“Dominic wants me to be safe, so maybe you should open them.”

“I’m glad you listen to him,” I mumble under my breath.

“Of course I listen to him. He’s my brother, my family. He loves me. He doesn’t just want to bully me. He has reasons for his protectiveness. And they’re not because he doesn’t want to be bothered by me.”

I don’t argue. I don’t tell her that my job isn’t a bother. I don’t tell her that I have slept less than four hours a night since university because of her. I don’t tell her that every fucking time I have had it with her, I am reminded of being drawn to the sad little girl who allowed herself to be so vulnerable that it wasn’t a fucking choice.

I don’t do anything but nod. “Yes, Signorina Segretti.”

Once all the boxes are unpacked, I stand and turn toward her. She is standing in the kitchen, at the stovetop, actually cooking.

I look around the room and only then do I realize all these boxes have been things to make it seem more like a home, making her much more domestic than I have ever seen her.

“What?” she asks, making me realize I have been watching her for too long to go unnoticed.

Nevertheless, I don’t answer.

“I like to cook.” She rolls her eyes slightly, and I think I see her cheeks flush. “And that’s lucky for you.” She opens the stainless-steel, double-sided refrigerator and takes out a large glass container before walking over to me. “I made this last night. I won’t eat all of it, so you might as well.”

“I can—”

“Order in?” She laughs. “Fine.” She turns around quickly and heads toward the garbage. “Your loss.”

I watch as she dumps an entire pan of some sort of pasta and meat in the garbage.

When she turns and looks at me, I glare at her.

“What?” She shrugs. “You didn’t want it.”

“Anything else, Signorina Segretti?”

“No.”