Page 64 of The Hidden Heir

“With regards to tonight’s attack, however, I fear you might know more than me.”

“I’m not so sure. You and your husband were among the intended targets.”

The thought chills me to the bone and genuinely frightens me. “What makes you say that, Detective?”

“Your position in the ballroom compared to the preliminary analysis of the bullet trajectories. There were many bullets fired tonight, but a good portion of them happened to be directed at your general vicinity. And most of the people who were hit were also partners and friends of the Petruccis.”

“Then you definitely know more than me, because my husband and I never even had a moment to consider the possibility,” I quickly shut down this avenue of interrogation, because this is an interrogation dressed up as civilized conversation.

“We were just sipping champagne, talking, and enjoying the music when those men came in and started shooting. Next thing I know, I’m on the ground, my husband shielding me, while our security detail, along with others in the ballroom, did everything in their power to stop the carnage.”

“Your husband fired a few shots of his own, if I’m not mistaken.”

“I’m not sure. It’s all a haze,” I mutter.

“If you remember anything else, if you ever just want to talk about… well, anything pertaining to the investigation or your family or anything at all,” Reece says as he hands me his business card, “my personal cell number is written on the back. Call me at any hour, it doesn’t matter. I’ll always be on the other end of the line.”

I frown curiously. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Because you almost got away from the life, Mrs. Petrucci. Calumet City was good, wasn’t it?” he replies, the corner of his mouth twisting upward in a knowing smirk. “Maybe someday, you’ll want to try again. And when you do, I’ll be more than happy to facilitate that.”

Staring at the card, I don’t know what to make of his gesture. He could be genuinely offering to help, but said help would come with a cost. Reece would require inside knowledge about the families in exchange for my extraction. He could be trying a ruse, too, perhaps hoping to rope me in as an informant. I can’t trust this man, but I slip the card into my purse, nonetheless.

Luca walks in with a scowl on his face. He doesn’t hide his irritation upon seeing Detective Reece either. I’m surprised by the relief coursing through me in light of his return. I’m safe again, oddly enough.

“What are you doing here?” he asks Reece.

“Just asking your wife a couple of questions,” the detective replies.

Reece’s shoulders are squared, but I don’t detect tension. He is remarkably calm as he stands before my husband. He does not intimidate him, which begs the question: How much of Reece’s courage is real and how much borders on recklessness?

“I told you to wait until I could be in the room with her,” Luca says. “Your partner worked hard to keep me away, it seems.” He pauses, then gives me a worried look. “Are you okay, Valentina?”

“Yes,” I reply with a soft smile. “I’m good. I promise.”

“Are we done here?” Luca asks Reece.

The detective nods politely. “For the time being, yes. But my colleagues and I will be in touch with more follow-up questions, depending on where the investigation leads us.”

“You do that. But in the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you would leave. My wife needs some rest and quiet, and I would like to take her home.”

“Of course,” Reece replies. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

Luca’s eyes follow the detective as he walks past him and leaves the room. The door closes behind him, and a thickness fills the space between us as Luca’s gaze shifts back to me.

“Valentina,” Luca says and comes closer, cupping my face with his hands. “How are you holding up?”

“I told you, I’m fine,” I gently reply.

He doesn’t believe me. “Tell the truth.”

“Well, I was scared out of my mind, obviously,” I chuckle slightly. “And I’m tired.”

He wraps his arms around me, covering me with his darkness and his strength. For a moment, I allow myself an escape from this mortal plane, finding refuge in my husband’s embrace. Everything stills for a moment. I can almost hear my own thoughts. The anxiety swirling beneath the surface.

“I’ll get to the bottom of this,” Luca promises, his voice low, almost deadly, as he utters that promise. “And when I find out who’s responsible, they won’t live to see another day.”

“You make me feel safe.”