Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
I reply to Matteo’s “dicks out” message first. I use a simple emoji—the middle finger. His reply comes through fast. It’s typical Matteo style. A string of expletives and a blurry selfie of him and Nico at the compound, looking far too awake for the hour.
Unintentionally, I find myself smiling while composing a response. As I hit send, another call comes through. It’s a FaceTime request from Dante this time.
I look back at the bedroom to ensure Valentina is still asleep before accepting his request.
“Yeah?”
Dante doesn’t waste time. “It’s Dad.”
That carefree, can-take-down-the-world-with-my-pinkie feeling I’ve been experiencing for the past fifteen hours slips away. “What happened?”
“For once, it’s good news.” He sags against the wall outside his daughter’s room, and his eyes look up toward heaven. “He’s out of bed. He walked to the kitchen on his own.”
I wiggle my ear, positive I heard him wrong. Our father hasn’t left his room in months. I’ll admit, there’s no incentive for him to leave. Everything he needs is brought to him. But still, I’m shocked.
Dante takes the words right out of my mouth. “Makes you wonder if the first doctor was right. Maybe he is suffering from a broken heart.”
I close my eyes and fight like hell to remove the image my next question conjures before blurting it out. “What’s got him so excited? Did he finally accept one of those special nurses Matteo’s been trying to add to the payroll the past six months?” The nurses might wear white uniforms and know how to use a rectal thermometer, but I’m certain they didn’t spend a single second studying nursing in college.
Dante’s throaty laugh barely conceals his gag. “No. Though he did have a late-night visitor last night.”
“Who?” My one word snaps out of my mouth. I’m fine with our father moving on. He loved our mother for thirty-six years and gave her the world, but he’s never shown an interest in finding love again. We also need to be cautious. The lengths some people will go to slate their name next to a Caruso are outrageous. Dante knows this better than anyone.
Furthermore, my brothers and I helped make the Caruso name what it is. There’s no way we will step aside and let someone come in and steal it from under us right when we’ve crossed the finish line.
I balk when Dante answers, “Valeria.”
“Valeria?” I double-check. “My Valeria?” Bile burns my throat from the unwanted possessiveness in my tone. Valeria isn’t mine. I’m just lost why her visit would rejuvenate our father’s will to live, so perhaps I have her confused for the other thousands of Valerias in our country.
“Yep.” The P pops from his mouth. “She came by last night to update him about the procedure. She said it was a huge success.”
My blood runs cold. “What?”
“The implantation.” Dante speaks slowly, as if I am daft. “She said it went well and everyone at the clinic is positive she will have sticky eggs. Whatever the fuck that means.”
I grip my phone firm enough to crack the screen. “I told them to cancel the procedure. The driver—”
“Apparently arrived too late, from what Nico said. It went ahead, Vanni. Yesterday afternoon, your offspring were placed inside Valeria.”
I glance back at the bedroom where Valentina is sleeping. How am I supposed to tell her this? How do I explain that the one thing I tried to stop could now become front-page news?
My focus returns to the view that’s nowhere near as appealing as it was minutes ago when Dante says, “Valeria told Dad herself. He’s over the moon. Said between your child and mine, the Caruso legacy is secure.”
“Why did she tell him?” My fury rises as rapidly as my pulse. “Even if she didn’t know I’d asked for it to be canceled, it was supposed to stay between us until the test came back positive. It’s in our fucking contract.”
Dante’s sigh rustles out of the speaker of my phone. “I have no idea, Vanni. But it’s everywhere. Have you seen the news?”
A chill creeps up my spine. “What do you mean everywhere?”
“There’s a photo of you and Valeria on the front page of the Carlisle Chronicle. The story states the reporter snapped it at your engagement party last month. Where the fuck was my invite?”
He laughs.
He. Fucking. Laughs.
I don’t pay it any attention. I don’t even hang up. I run back to the bedroom, my fists balling when I find it empty. The covers are thrown back, but the sheets are still warm. That means Valentina could still be here. I had her clothes laundered last night. Not because they were dirty, but because it guaranteed she’d remain naked for as long as possible.
My heart hammers my rib cage as I scan the living room. The concierge must have brought up breakfast. A silver tray rests on the entryway table, and to its left is the local paper, unfolded and glaring with dishonesty.