Chapter 3 HOME

CHAPTER 3

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Valentine took a deep breath, straightening her dress and wiping the last smudge of lipstick from her mouth. The heat from Matteo's touch still burned under her skin, but she couldn't afford to think about it. Not now. Not ever.

She left the basement without a backward glance, her head held high as if nothing had happened. The club was mostly cleared out, with only a few of her men lingering to oversee the cleanup. Matteo had already disappeared-typical of him to leave without a word.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she glanced down to see her father's name flashing on the screen. She hesitated only for a second before answering.

"Valentine," his deep, authoritative voice came through, calm but stern. "What's the situation?"

She swallowed, forcing her voice to remain steady. "A shootout at the club. Someone hit both us and the Romanos. They took out our dock warehouse."

Silence stretched on the other end before he spoke again. "Any casualties?"

"Several. Civilians mostly. A few of our men, and some Romanos. I'm handling it."

Her father's sigh was almost imperceptible. "Handling it how?"

She steeled herself. "Matteo was at the club. The Romanos were just as blindsided as we were. It wasn't them."

A bitter laugh came from her father. "You trust him now?"

Valentine gritted her teeth. "No. But I believe him. Whoever did this hit both families at the same time. They want us at each other's throats."

"That won't be hard to accomplish," her father muttered. "The Romano warehouse blew up not long after ours. You can imagine what that's done to tensions."

She clenched her jaw, frustration simmering under her skin. "We need to meet with them. If we don't figure this out together, it'll be a massacre."

There was a long pause before her father spoke again, more cautious now. "And you think Matteo will cooperate?"

Valentine hesitated, recalling his hands on her waist, his lips on her neck. The way he claimed her like it was his right. She pushed the thought aside, shoving it deep down where it couldn't cloud her judgment.

"He'll cooperate," she said firmly. "He knows war won't benefit either of us."

Another silence stretched before her father let out a resigned sigh. "Fine. I'll arrange a meeting. You make sure to keep your head on straight. You're too important to lose over some petty blood feud."

Her chest tightened at the familiar warning, but she kept her voice steady. "Understood."

"Good. Come home. We need to discuss the next steps."

The line went dead, and Valentine slipped the phone back into her pocket, exhaling slowly. One of her men approached, giving her a respectful nod.

"We're almost done clearing out, Miss De Luca. Police aren't giving us any trouble."

"Good," she replied, her tone clipped. "Make sure the bodies are disposed of properly. No one needs to trace anything back to us."

"Yes, ma'am."

As the man walked away, Valentine allowed herself a moment to catch her breath, leaning against the wall. Her mind raced with possibilities-who would be bold enough to hit both families at once? The Russian Bratva? The Cartel? Or some new player trying to make a statement?

The thought of war made her stomach churn, but she couldn't afford to look weak. Her family depended on her strength-her father demanded nothing less.

She straightened, pushing down the remnants of whatever had happened between her and Matteo. It didn't matter. It wouldn't change anything. He was still the enemy, even if his touch made her feel more alive than she had in years.

With a final glance around the club, she walked out into the night, determination hardening her features. This wasn't just about survival anymore-it was about sending a message.

Whoever thought they could take down both the De Luca and Romano empires was about to learn just how deadly that mistake was.

The ride home was quiet, Valentine staring out the tinted windows as the city lights blurred past. Her mind replayed the night's events over and over-Matteo's hands on her skin, the explosion at the docks, and the way her father's voice had tightened with controlled fury.

When the car pulled up to the De Luca estate-a sprawling mansion hidden behind tall iron gates-she took a moment to collect herself. The guards gave her respectful nods as she stepped out, heels clicking against the cobblestone driveway.

The grand foyer was dimly lit, and the faint aroma of freshly baked bread lingered from the kitchen. Valentine barely made it two steps inside before she heard loud footsteps thundering down the staircase.

"Val!"

She barely had time to brace herself before two bodies crashed into her-her twin siblings, Luca and Sofia. Luca's arms wrapped around her shoulders while Sofia practically tackled her waist, her long black hair cascading over Valentine's shoulder.

"You're okay!" Sofia breathed out, pulling back just enough to study Valentine's face. "We heard about the shootout at the club. Dad's been pacing like a caged animal."

Luca, taller and leaner with sharp features that mirrored Valentine's, gave her a once-over, his jaw tense. "Are you hurt?"

Valentine forced a smirk, brushing them off. "Please. You think I'd let some idiots with guns get the better of me?"

Sofia gave her a playful shove, though worry still clouded her emerald eyes. "You could at least text us next time. We thought-"

Valentine cupped her cheek, softening her tone. "I'm fine. I promise."

Before either of them could respond, the click of heels on marble caught their attention. Their mother, Isabella De Luca, appeared at the top of the staircase, her dark hair swept elegantly into a bun and her tailored emerald dress fitting her slender frame perfectly. Despite her poised appearance, her sharp eyes softened when they landed on Valentine.

"Valentina," Isabella greeted, gliding down the stairs with the grace of a queen. She cupped her daughter's face, looking for any sign of injury. "You're late."

Valentine managed a wry smile. "Got held up at the club. Things got messy."

Her mother's gaze sharpened. "Your father's waiting for you in his study. He's been... on edge."

Luca snorted. "That's putting it lightly. He nearly tore apart his office when the news broke."

Valentine gave her brother a look. "Not helping."

Isabella glanced at Luca, raising a brow, and he shut his mouth instantly. With a gentle touch on Valentine's shoulder, Isabella guided her toward the hallway. "He'll want to hear your side. And be careful with your words-he's not in the mood for any... rebellion tonight."

Valentine nodded, steeling herself before heading down the hall. Sofia's quiet voice called after her, almost hesitant.

"Val... whatever happened... just be careful. We've been hearing rumors."

Valentine hesitated, giving Sofia a small nod before continuing. She knew exactly what her sister meant. The rumors of betrayal, of alliances shifting, and of the Romano family gearing up for retaliation. No one knew how deep the attack had cut both families.

Taking a deep breath, she reached the heavy oak doors of her father's study and knocked twice before pushing them open.

Her father, Alessandro De Luca, stood by the window, a glass of whiskey in hand. He didn't turn to look at her as she entered.

"Sit," he commanded.

She obeyed, sinking into one of the leather armchairs. After a long pause, he finally turned, his expression carved from stone.

"Report."

Valentine kept her tone steady and professional. "The club was attacked by unknown gunmen. Several casualties, mostly civilians. Before I could get things under control, the Romano warehouse went up in flames. Then our dock warehouse followed. The message is clear-someone wants both families in chaos."

Alessandro studied her, his gaze unyielding. "You were at the club with Matteo Romano."

It wasn't a question. She forced herself not to flinch. "He happened to be there. I didn't know he would show up."

"Convenient," Alessandro said coldly, swirling his whiskey. "And after the attack, did you speak to him?"

Valentine hesitated, but only for a fraction of a second. "Briefly. We both agreed that whoever did this wanted to pit us against each other. Neither side benefits from all-out war."

Her father's eyes narrowed. "And you think you can trust him?"

"No," she admitted, meeting his gaze head-on. "But we have to be smart about this. Whoever orchestrated this is banking on our families destroying each other. We can't give them that satisfaction."

Alessandro took a slow sip, his gaze piercing. "You sound more like a strategist than my daughter."

She forced herself not to react, keeping her face neutral. He set his glass down and approached, resting a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"You did well tonight," he said, his tone begrudgingly approving. "But don't let your guard down. The Romanos are snakes-they'll strike when you least expect it."

Valentine gave a single nod, knowing better than to argue. Alessandro leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Get some rest," he ordered. "Tomorrow, we'll plan our next move."

"Yes, Papa," she replied softly.

As she left the study, the tension in her shoulders finally eased. Luca and Sofia were waiting just outside, both of them wearing identical worried expressions.

"What did he say?" Luca asked, keeping his voice low.

Valentine offered a tired smile. "That I did well. For now."

Sofia hugged her tightly, her grip surprisingly strong. "We'll get through this," she whispered. "Whoever's trying to mess with us will regret it."

Valentine smirked, ruffling her sister's hair. "Damn right. No one messes with the De Lucas and gets away with it."

Luca's eyes flickered with a dangerous glint. "We'll find out who's behind this. And when we do... they'll beg for mercy."

Valentine didn't doubt it for a second. She just hoped that when the time came, she'd be ready to do whatever it took to protect her family-even if it meant crossing lines she never thought she would.

But for now, she needed sleep. And maybe a long, scalding shower to wash away the memory of Matteo Romano's hands on her body.