Page 6 of The Bond

The expression on her beautiful face was one of total focus. She wasn’t playing around. Which surprised me, because she could have very easily left me to rot in a ditch somewhere. Valentina didn’t owe me anything whatsoever, yet here she was, basically trying to take care of me. Despite me being 100% sure she also had ulterior motives for helping me, I was fucking grateful. Without her, I would probably have choked to death back there. As much as I hated owing a Romano, I owed her. Big time.

“You need breakfast,” she said, moving around the room to open the curtains to let some light and air in.

“I could go for some bacon if you’ve got any.”

“Absolutely not,” she said, flatly shutting me down.

“What?” I sat up, leaning my back against the headboard to get a better look at her. “Why the hostility?”

“You heard the doctors and the nurses,” she said. “No junk food.”

Oh, fuck. Now I dreaded finding out what she was going to feed me. “What does this mean, some of that bran cereal or something?”

“Oatmeal,” she responded, ignoring my groans. “With lots of fruit. And you will drink herbal tea.”

Lord knew I ate healthy, but not for breakfast. Healthy food was for lunch and dinner. Breakfast was the one meal where I could toss discipline out the window. “Come on.”

“There’s also the breathing exercises to help your lungs,” she reminded.

I sighed heavily.

“See? You’re getting the hang of it already,” she said.

I almost laughed at that, but that would just encourage her tyranny, so I simply scowled in response.

She rolled her eyes and left me to stew in my irritation. Damn those doctors. I’d been stuck hooked up to a feeding tube, fed through an IV drip, and then when I could eat it had been lousy hospital food. Clearly, she had no pity for me because she soon returned with a tray laden with oatmeal and fruits, a steaming cup of herbal tea to go along with all of it.

While I grudgingly ate, Valentina sat on the edge of the bed, her face still thoughtful. Truth was, I could watch her for hours, weird as that sounded. Everything she did fascinated and intrigued me. I couldn’t get enough of the way she moved or the way she thought about things. I’d never met anyone as infuriating and captivating as her.

“We both got really lucky with that fire,” she said. “The doctors said that the rainstorm earlier probably kept it from blazing out of control.”

“Second time lucky,” I muttered.

Valentina paused to study me. “This is your second fire.”

“Yeah.”

“We set that previous one,” she said, all businesslike with no emotion in her words. “If we’d known you were in your family’s warehouse that night, we never would have set it, Enzo. That fire we set was a warning, not an attempt on your life.”

That was the closest thing to an apology I’d ever get from the Romanos. Ordinarily, I would reject it, but coming from Valentina, I treasured it already. Maybe it was a sign that she cared about me deep down.

“You didn’t know I was there,” I said. “I don’t blame you.”

“What were you doing in a warehouse at that hour?” she asked, tilting her head in curiosity. “Setting up a transport or something?”

I inhaled deeply. This was a moment of truth. My chance to tell Valentina something that I’d never told anyone.

“I was trying to get out,” I said.

She shook her head, seemingly confused. “Get out?”

“I wanted out of the business. Out of the mafia,” I confessed.

Her blue eyes went wide. “What? Oh my...”

“A dangerous, stupid thing to want, but I was tired,” I explained. “The war between our families, the brutality necessary to win my place, always looking over our shoulders. I wanted out because I wanted to have a fucking life.”

“Enzo...” She chewed her bottom lip, worry settling on her face. It was obvious that the truth was making her anxious. This wasn’t the type of thing many in the mafia dared to do.