If you're reading this, thank you for reading the story!! 

This chapter took a different turn than I expected, but I'm sooo happy that the story is writing itself!

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Happy reading!

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Chapter 7

Two Truths and a Lie

Matteo

New York, United States - November 18th, 2020

I moved into the new apartment a week ago, per my father's request. Aurora was scheduled to move in Marco in December, and to be honest, I am enjoying living by myself for the first time in my life.

It's a two-bedroom, 120 square meter apartment on the 22nd floor, in one of the apartment buildings my dad's company owns. It's close to Wall Street, within walking distance to our office buildings. It has floor-to-ceiling windows, just like in our old apartment, but my bedroom has a much better view, and the bathroom as well.

Ariana had just left after her short visit to New York, and I keep thinking about the relief I felt when she finally got into the taxi to go to the airport.

I don't know what she expects; we still haven't had the talk about what we are. Sometimes I feel like she might bring it up, but she never does. Maybe she thinks me posting a photo of us from yesterday proves something, but I couldn't care less about how my Instagram comes off to the rest of the world.

***

New York, United States – November 25th, 2020

"That's the guy."

I look to where Luca is nodding his head.

"I have to go." I say to Valentina before I end the call. I turn to Luca, switching back to Italian. "The guy who stole from us?"

I see him clearly now. He doesn't look taller than me, so I could definitely rough him up once we get him somewhere more private.

Our last job for the week is to locate an American who has been working for our company since 2015, and who has also been embezzling money from us since 2017. He quit last year without giving a reason and has been really hard to find ever since.

We have been sent to a private auction as attendees, with the sole purpose of getting the guy to give us our money back.

He was dumb enough to put his real name on the list. That's on him.

"Richard Kanaghan." Luca states. "It's him."

I push myself off the bar. "Get the car ready."

"You sure you can handle this?"

I roll my eyes. "Yes, I'm sure."

He grins, obviously enjoying the act of riling up my ego.

So far, he's been the one who has taken care of business while I've been waiting in the back alleys of buildings, ready to drive off.

"Alright. But if you're not there in five minutes, I'm coming back inside."

"Just go, for fuck's sake."

His grin grows wider as he places his glass on the bar and heads towards the back exit.

The guy senses me walking over to him, because he turns his head when I'm a few steps away.

"Mr. Kanaghan, long time no see." I say in English.

He looks confused. "Do I know you?"

The two women he's talking to shoot me a curious glare.

"Don't you remember me? We know each other from way back when. I work with your corporazione."

The word in Italian is all he needs to hear before his face goes pale.

"Excuse me ladies. There's an urgent matter I need to attend to."

He's practically shaking by the time we retreat into a private corner of the room.

"Who are you? Are you with the Italians?"

"I'm a mere employee."

"Why are you here?"

"We want to talk to you."

"There's nothing to talk about. Leave me alone. I quit a year ago, and you have been bombarding me with calls."

"Why didn't you answer then, Richard?"

I place a hand above his head on the wall as I shift my weight to my feet. It shows that I'm relaxed, and that I'm bigger than him, so there's no need to try and escape.

"Do you have something to hide?"

He licks his lips, and I notice beads of sweat forming on the sides of his forehead.

Sign of stress

"I have nothing to hide." His voice breaks, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

I just can't deal with weak grown ass men.

"We want to talk to you. Why don't we go somewhere more private?"

"I'm not going anywhere with you. You're with them."

I turn by back to the rest of the room as I pull out my gun and place my other hand on his shoulder. His eyes widen when I take another step forward so the gun presses against his stomach.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be. We just want to talk."

He slowly nods before I turn him around, pressing the gun to his lower back.

"Now walk."

We exit the building through the back, where Luca is already waiting in the car. I climb in the back after him and Luca takes off as soon as I close the door.

I keep the gun pointed at Richard as Luca speeds through the streets towards one of our houses.

"I know what you do to people like me." Richard says, pulling at his collar.

I smirk. "People like you hm? Are you saying you did something?"

He shoots me a look. "I'm not saying anything. I'm just stating the truth."

You catch Luca's eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Enough with the talking." Luca barks.

The sun is starting to set by the time he pulls the car in front of the two-story house. It's empty but the basement is made from cement and equipped with soundproof walls, so it's perfect for these types of situations.

Richard starts screaming as soon as we get out of the car, but Luca quickly reacts and knocks him over the head with his gun.

I catch his unconscious body in my arms and we struggle to carry him inside, then down the stairs.

He wakes up by the time he's shackled to an iron chair and immediately goes into panic mode, pulling and thrashing as he tries to get loose.

"There's no point in struggling, you'll just tire yourself out." I tell him.

Luca is looking through the table of instruments used for torture while I sit in one of the chairs facing Richard.

"Why am I here?"

I roll my eyes. "You know playing dumb will only make it harder for you."

Luca nods as he picks out a screwdriver. He's the one who takes it onto himself to torture the truth out of the people we bring down here, and I'm okay with that.

"You don't have to prove yourself to anyone, Matteo. Let Luca get his hands dirty. But always be the one in control of the situation."

"What are you going to do? Pick out his eyes?" I joke.

He smirks. "There's an idea. I was thinking something more like stick it into him and see where it hurts most."

Richard tries to pull at his shackles once again, obviously freaked out by the idea of being stabbed with a screwdriver.

Luca and I both know we're not going to kill him; we're just going to scare him enough to tell us why he stole money from the company and then give him a few days to get the money together.

I watch Luca step towards Richard. "Now, Richard, how much money did you steal?"

"I didn't steal anything from anyoooooarrgh!" He screams as soon as Luca stabs him in his thigh.

I cock my head. "The more you deny it the more it's going to hurt."

Luca pulls the screwdriver out, and I can see the material of his black pants turning even darker from the blood.

"I'll ask you again, how much did you steal?"

Richard shakes his head. "Please, I didn't steal anything."

Luca stabs him again in the other leg, which causes Richard to yell even louder than last time.

"We have you dead to rights." I chime in as I stand up from my seat. "Every time money mysteriously disappeared, you were on the camera using your computer."

"That-"

"And before you say it doesn't prove anything, we tracked the IP address the transfers were made from. Into your shell account. Which we also tracked."

There's a look of defeat on his face before he drops his head. "I'm sorry."

Luca removes the screwdriver from his leg. "See? That wasn't so hard."

"You're smart though. You always took out just enough for it not to be flagged by our servers. But over the years, it adds up." I pull out a cigarette from my pack. "You embezzled a total of 500.000 dollars over two and a half years. Weren't we paying you enough, Richard? You could've asked for a raise if you were struggling."

"I did ask for a raise in 2016. My daughter has cancer, and we didn't have enough money for the proper treatment."

Don't fucking care. Do not. Fucking. Care.

"The moment you let yourself feel compassion for those who do us wrong is the moment they'll take advantage."

"There's no place for weak people in our business, Matteo."

I try to think of my father's words when I start to feel sorry for Richard.

"My wife couldn't work because she was pregnant, and I just...I just didn't think it through, I'm sorry."

He's crying now, and I look away. If I let myself think too much, I'll end up understanding why he did what he did. I'll end up caring.

"Our job is not to understand why people do what they do. Our job is to make sure they understand the consequences of their own actions."

"Well, today's your lucky day." Luca's words pull me out of my head and back to reality. "Because we'll give you a week to get the money you owe us."

"What happens if I don't?"

Luca cocks his head. "I don't think you want to find out."

Richard cries even harder now, but all the previous hate I felt for him being is gone.

I look away. "Uncuff him and let him go."

Luca does as I tell him, and Richard doesn't wait a second before he rushes to the door.

"You know what will happen to your family if you even think about going to the police, right?" Luca yells after him, which makes him stop in his tracks by the door. He doesn't turn around. Luca continues. "You have two beautiful daughters and a wife. I'm sure keeping them alive is more important than anything in the world."

Richard turns his head. "People like you are going to get what you deserve sooner or later."

"Happy Thanksgiving." Luca smirks. "Say hi to your wife for me."

***

I arrive home around eight that evening, tired and completely unable to do anything with my life.

As I sit on the couch still in my suit, I feel like I'm bored but I also don't want to do anything but sit on this couch right now.

I think about Richard for a second before I immediately force myself to think about something else. I need to not be alone with my thoughts right now.

Aurora and Marco are still in Italy until next month, as well as all my friends from back home.

Valentina

I pull out my phone and click on our chat.

Matteo: wyd?

I delete the text. It sounds too...icky.

Matteo: what are u up to

I delete it again, shaking my head.

Finally, I text her that I'm bored.

Her response comes almost instantly. I smile.

Valentina: me too

Matteo: want to come over?

It sounds a little bit too booty-call-ish but maybe I'm just projecting.

I'm overthinking this

We're friends

Like Isabella and I are friends

I type out another text to make it sound less sexual. And to also avoid rejection.

Why am I even thinking about it being sexual?

My mind goes back to the time I pinned her against the wall in her kitchen, and the unreal way she looked.

Matteo: I have wine

Matteo: And weed

She reads the text but doesn't respond.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

Maybe she has other things to do.

Valentina: okay

Valentina: send me ur location

Matteo: *location*

Valentina: wtf how are you so close

Valentina: I thought you lived on the upper west side

Matteo: I moved

Matteo: long story

Valentina: okay well you're 2 subway stations away

Valentina: I'll be there in 20

I look around the room. The apartment isn't messy per se, but it could be cleaner. I decide to take a shower and change into some comfortable clothes, because it would feel weird to be chilling in a suit.

I place my gun in the safe located in my bedroom, before I go shower.

By the time I'm out of the room, there's a new text message from Valentina.

Valentina: what nr do I ring?

Matteo: 223

Valentina: be there in 10

Valentina: im on the subway

Matteo: ok

I change, then I go to the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and two glasses. The weed is already on the coffee table in the living room.

The intercom rings five minutes later, and I buzz her in. I don't really know what to do with myself until she gets to the door, so I just stand there until I hear the doorbell.

She's standing there with a smile on her face and a bottle of wine in her hand. The look on her face lets me know she's a little nervous.

I step aside. "Hi."

"Hi."

She comes inside and I close the door behind her, locking it. "I told you I have wine."

She looks down at the bottle she's holding. "Yes, but I just couldn't take the risk."

"Don't tell me you also brought weed."

A grin spreads across her face. "No, I trust you with that."

I roll my eyes and she smiles even wider. All the nervousness she previously had has evaporated.

She toes off her shoes and slips into a pair of Nike slides before she takes a few more steps into the foyer, looking around.

"There it is."

I follow her into the kitchen, liking the fact that she feels confident enough to walk around like she belongs here.

She sets the bottle on the island counter before she takes off her coat. She places it on the back of a chair. She's wearing a black hoodie over a white dress, and she must've seen me looking at her because she tells me that it's cold outside.

"You're wearing a dress when there are ten degrees outside."

"It's Thanksgiving."

"You're not American."

She waves me off as she looks around. "Do you have any glasses?"

"In the cupboard."

"I didn't want to start looking through your shit."

"You can though."

She nods, still smiling. "And a corkscrew."

"In the drawers."

I don't tell her which cupboard or which drawer, but she finds them on the first try anyway.

She takes out two glasses and places them on the counter, before she takes a seat at the island counter and tries to open the bottle.

I go to sit next to her and take the bottle from her hands when I see her struggling.

"Show off."

I pour the wine in our glasses before we toast.

"Soo..." she trails off. "This is your new place."

I cock my head as I take the wine to my lips to hide my smile.

Why do I want to smile so much?

"Valentina, are you trying to make small talk with me?"

She rolls her eyes as she takes a sip. "I'm easing into the conversation."

"Alright, ease in then."

"Why did you move?"

"Aurora is moving to New York next month. She got into NYU."

"My brother goes there too. But they have online classes."

"My dad said they're going to go back to normal in December."

Something changes in her face when I mention my dad. I don't find it relevant enough to ask about it.

"How does he know?"

I shrug. "He knows a lot of shit."

That makes her smile come back. "What did he say about the whole coke bag thing?"

"He told me to be more careful. What did yours say?"

"That I shouldn't go around talking in alleys during a pandemic."

"Was he mad?"

"He doesn't really get mad. He gets disappointed."

I nod. "That's the worst."

She laughs. "It fucking is. But he loves me too much to hold it against me."

She says it so casually that it surprises me. I'd never thought that about my dad. I have never even heard him say 'I love you' to me, but I have also never said it to him. I know I love him, but it's different. Our relationship is different from the one he has with Aurora, for example. I guess father-daughter relationships are different than father-son.

"What?" she asks when she sees me in my own thoughts.

"I was just thinking."

"About?"

"About how fathers and daughters are different from fathers and sons."

She thinks about it. "Yeah, that's true. There's too much pride when it comes to a relationship between two men in the family. Like they're afraid to show vulnerability. I see it with how he treats Adrik."

"I think fathers expect their sons to live up to their expectations more than they do with their daughters."

She tilts her head. "Maybe. It's the same with mothers and daughters and mothers and sons though. I think our parents see parts of themselves in them. When I was younger, I thought my parents didn't love me because of the things they did, but now that I'm older and I actually see them as people, I understand that everything they've ever done is because they love me."

Ten minutes later we finish our glasses, so I pour another round.

She stands up once her glass is full. "I want to see the apartment."

We exit the kitchen and I point to the room next to the front door. "That's my office."

"Office." She repeats. "You have an office. How...grown up."

I walk to the left into the living room. "This is the living room."

"Oh wow. You still have a good view I see."

I watch her walk over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooks the East River and the Statue of Liberty.

"It's facing South." She notices. "I like it."

She turns around to scan the room. "This looks like my brother's living room. Of course you have an Xbox."

She walks over and sits on the couch, placing her glass on the coffee table so she can pull the weed tray over her lap. "Very nice."

I smile and go to sit next to her on the couch.

She rolls a joint in two minutes then lights it up. After a few puffs, she nods her head in approval. "I trusted you on this."

"You haven't even tasted the wine though. After we finish your bottle, I'm opening mine."

"I'll need a drinking game if you want me to drink that much in an apartment."

I smirk at her words. "Alright." I think about it for a second. "We used to play a game I think you'll like when we were younger."

"Which is it?"

"Two Truths and a Lie."

"I think I know it from the movies or something. Alright." Her eyes are sparkling, and she looks happy to be playing a game.

She turns to me and pulls her right leg under herself.

"I'll go first." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "My parents didn't always use to have money. I was born in Russia. Aaand...I have five tattoos."

"I already know you were born in Russia, that was very creative. But I don't know if you have more tattoos or not. And I can believe that you didn't grow up rich. You told me you grew up in one of those old communist apartment blocks. So, I'd say the tattoo one is a lie."

She makes a face before she takes a long sip from the bottle.

"You really didn't grow up 'rich'?"

But her family makes billions a year.

She shakes her head. "It was after my dad became CEO."

"Was he the guy playing poker with us?"

"Yes."

I take the bottle from her. "How many tattoos do you actually have?"

"Seven."

The fact that I only ever saw like five of them makes me wonder where the other ones are.

"Your turn."

I take a moment to think about it before I speak.

"I'm ambidextrous, I have a pilot's license, I have two cousins."

She looks confused at my statements.

"That was a lot in five seconds."

I laugh. "Which one's a lie?"

"I believe you can write with both hands. And I think you could have a pilot's license."

"You think I could have one?"

"Of course. You could have anything you want, Matteo. If you want it bad enough."

I smile. When I was eight and wanted to be a pilot, my parents told me that I would never get to fly a plane.

"It's a lot of work to become a pilot." My mother had sad.

"And there's no way you could see it through." My dad had said.

"You're right. But I don't have one."

"So, you have two cousins."

"Yes, but they're on my mother's side and we never really see them."

I barely even see my mother.

She takes another gulp.

"I already know mine. My mother is half American, I'm a vegetarian, and I used to be captain of the volleyball team."

"You're not vegetarian."

"I-yes. That's the lie."

She rolls her eyes as she takes yet another gulp. At this rate, she's going to be the one finishing the bottle.

"Why are you so good at this? At this rate, I'm going to be the only one drinking this."

I take the bottle from her so I can match her intake.

"I'm observant."

"Do I strike you as a person who loves sports?" she laughs.

"No, but you have like...I could believe you used to play sports."

"My parents made me try all of them." She groans. "Tennis, Basketball, swimming, skiing. It was a nightmare. I felt forced, in a way. They never listened to me because they thought it was healthy for me."

"Were they the same with your brother?"

"No. My brother wanted ice hockey and that's what he did."

I try to compare it to Aurora's situation, but it's not even close. It sounds more like what our father did to me. And Marco, sort of.

"I think it's a first-born thing."

"Cheers to that."

She takes the bottle from me and takes another sip before she passes me a dead joint.

I light it up and take the time to think about my turn.

"I'm colorblind-"

"Don't even try to make it easier for me." She interrupts, holding a hand up. She looks genuinely offended. "I want to play the game because I like it, not because I want to win it."

"Fine." I laugh at her remark. "Alright. I'm a good cook, I've never broken a bone, and I shot someone."

She purses her lips and looks around the room as she thinks.

"I think the is between the bone and shooting one."

She turns to look back at me. "I believe that you shot someone, so the bone one is the lie."

I cock my head as she looks at me with an expectant look on her face. "You have to drink."

Her jaw hits the floor. "What?! Which one is the lie?" She puts the joint out in the ashtray and I take the tray to roll another one. She smiles.

"I can't cook for shit. That was the lie."

She groans but takes a strong gulp from the bottle. She shakes it in front of her eyes. "It's empty." Then she looks me in the eye. "Wait, why did you shoot someone?"

Her eyes widen, but not in the gossip-y way Ariana's widen. "What happened?"

My heartrate picks up. I don't want to lie to her, but I also don't want to tell the truth. I choose to light up the new joint instead.

"He was a threat to our security."

It's not a lie.

"Did he die?"

Fuck.

"Yes."

Her mouth opens in surprise. "For real?"

"For real."

"Wow."

I shrug.

"And are you okay?"

"I mean...yes. Why wouldn't I be?"

It's her turn to shrug. "I guess I always thought that if I were ever to kill someone, I'd feel guilty after."

"The most I've felt is feeling guilty because I don't feel guilty."

It comes out of my mouth without thinking it through. It's the same thing I told my father when we talked about Romeo. I have no idea how Valentina would react to something like this though.

"Hm. Feeling guilty about not feeling guilty generally shows you have compassion, so it's not that unethical, is it?"

That makes me genuinely laugh because it's out of nowhere, and because it's true.

She stands up. "I'll get the other bottle. Where is it?"

"Fridge."

When she comes back, she sits further away so she can lean against the armrest. I light up the joint, having completely forgotten about it.

"You weren't lying about lying. Your fridge is mostly drinks."

"There's a restaurant on the fifteenth floor. And they offer room service. I don't even need to think about buying food, I can just go downstairs and have anything I want."

She looks over to the take-out pizza box on the table by the window. "That's awesome. Sometimes I feel like grocery shopping is a chore."

"They have delivery apps, you know."

She pours the wine in our empty glasses. We've each had three glasses and drank out of the bottle, but I think she's a few steps ahead of me.

"I just can't stand so much trash." She picks up her glass and takes a sip.

"What do you think?"

She licks her lips. "I like mine better. But it's not bad." She teases me.

She wins the next round, because I didn't think she'd actually ran away from home before.

"Why did you run away from home?"

"Because I was ten and my parents took away my phone after another fight. " She laughs at herself.

I pass the joint to her, and her statement seems really random so I just start laughing. "What?"

"It was a Blackberry, okay?" she sarcastically says, which makes me laugh even more. "I went to my grandmother's house for like five hours and then went back. I took the fucking bus all the way to Moscow." At this point she's also laughing at the memory.

I take the bottle, still smiling as I down my shot.

"My turn. I don't know how to ski, my family owns an amusement park, and I brush my teeth three times a day."

"The brush-"

"Wait. No. Two of them are lies."

She snickers, and I realize that we're both high right now. "Which one is true then?"

"I don't know how to ski."

"Really? You've never been skiing? Do you have slopes in Italy?"

"Of course we do. But I only snowboard."

"That's like skateboarding on snow."

The way I can tell she's being herself makes me feel like I'm with a second Isabella. Like there are no expectations, like she's here for the sole purpose of being here. It's like I can also be myself without having to even think about how I have to behave.

She waves her hand in front of my face. "Where are you? I said that I want to see the rest of the apartment."

"Alright."

She takes her wine glass with her and I take the half-smoked joint and the lighter. She follows me out of the living room.

I point to the door opposite my office. That's the guest toilet."

I turn around to walk down the end of the hall until I reach my bedroom

"This is my bedroom." I point to the other door in the room. "That one leads to my closet, the master bathroom, and my office."

"Woow." She says when she enters the room. I turn on the standing lamp to give it a little light.

She walks over to the windows and places her palms against them as she looks out of them. I watch her hips as she walks for a few moments before I force myself to look elsewhere.

"You can see the skyline. And the New York Stock Exchange building. It's a different vibe."

I sit down at the edge of the bed and light the joint back up. I watch her look out the window at the city.

I've never thought about appreciating the view before.

"It's just a city full of buildings."

"Yes, but you can see some lights on in all of them. It makes the world look so small and so big at the same time. All those people living their own lives and being part of the world."

"I never thought about it that way."

"I'll never get tired of this view. It's one of the reasons I almost went for the apartment in Battery Park."

"If you had to choose, would you choose to live here or at my house in Sicily?"

She turns around. "I would choose both."

That makes me smile. "But if you had to choose."

"Sicily, no doubt. I like the sea more than I like the city."

"Me too."

"Why-nevermind."

"What?"

"I wanted to ask why you don't live there then, but I remembered you have a job here."

She walks over to me, and I hold out the joint for her to take.

"How's your financial advisor trainee thing?"

She shrugs. "It's not even that. It's more of a...I don't know. It's not what I expected."

She takes a sip from her glass and walks over to me. She stops when she's between my spread legs and takes the joint from me.

Her being so close makes my mind flash back to us in the sea in Sicily last summer.

"Fuck, don't do that."

"It turns me on."

Those words actually came out of her mouth.

Red wine might've been a wrong choice.

Something changes in my brain when I let the memories of a few months ago back in. The way she moaned into my mouth in the water, then again in the kitchen. The way she turned me on just by standing her ground as she let me finger her anyway.

"I think you're really overrated, and I also think that most of the things said about you are just exaggerations."

No one ever said that to my face before, and it made me fucking horny for some reason.

"What are you smirking about?" she asks, propping a hand on her hip, feigning annoyance. She knows it's about her.

"I just remembered that you said I'm overrated, yet you chose to come here."

Recognition flashes on her face and my eyes fall to her lips when her tongue darts over them.

"Why are you thinking about that?"

"Because I'm as drunk as I was then, and we're alone."

She idly bites down on her lip. I can feel the moment the atmosphere in the room changes.

"Yeah. I've thought about it too."

"About which part?"

She drinks the last sip of her wine until the last drop. "That we're alone."

She hands me the glass and I place it on the floor.

"What about it us being alone?" I continue.

I want to kiss her so fucking bad, because she's so fucking close and she smells unbelievable.

"What about it?" she answers, taking another step forward until her knees hit the edge of the bed. And they're dangerously close to my crotch.

But I know I can't be the one who makes the first move today. It was always me who kissed her, and my ego wants her to need it so much she can't stop herself.

I can tell she's somewhere else right now, trying to list all the reasons she shouldn't be touching me right now. I can't think of any.

I nearly choke when she suddenly takes off her hoodie and places it on the bed.

"I'm warm."

She's wearing a white dress with a necklace that hangs into her cleavage.

"Now the dress." I semi-joke, although I can already feel myself getting hard.

"I'm not that warm." She intends to make a joke, but I can tell it's forced.

She's flustered, and she's blushing, and the thermostat is set to 20 degrees. It's not warm at all.

I crane my neck up to look into her eyes. "Why are you denying yourself this?"

She takes in a sharp breath, surprised that she'd been found out.

"I'm not denying myself anything."

"There's no other reason to be standing this close to me. You're basically giving me a kneejob."

"Shut up." It comes out semi-demanding, semi-amused, and semi-turned on.

I smirk. "Or what?"

She knows exactly who I'm quoting, and that seems to do it for her, because she straddles me.

I'm embarrassed at how quickly my hands go to her waist, my mouth searching for hers without a second thought. I kiss her first because I don't even give a shit anymore.

Not when she's pressed against me in a fucking dress, breathing into my mouth like there's nothing she wants more in the world.

I grab the back of her neck and tilt my head to deepen the kiss.

Fuck, I missed kissing someone, her, like this. With loads of tongue and groans and saliva and eagerness.

She grinds against me, her thighs tensing on impulse when she feels my erection. I feel her smile into my mouth as she rubs herself against me one more time.

I move the hand resting on her waist under her skirt, but she bats it away. Instead, she tugs at the hem of my shirt. She takes it off me, and goes in for another kiss.

Just for the fun of it, I decide to lay on my back, my hands going back to her hips. She lets out a surprised whine, which sounds dangerously like a moan.

I grip into her hips even tighter as I silently dare her to come after me.

"You have new tattoos." She observes as she looks at my chest.

I'd gotten an Ouroboros under my pecs a month ago.

"A snake eating it's own tail."

A joke about how I'd rather be eating something else is on the tip of my tongue, but I don't indulge. Instead, I hold her hips down as I buck up my own, which makes her forget about my new tattoo.

"Fuck, you can't just-"

She leans back and places her hands above my knees for support. I grind up against her again, just so I can get a reaction out of her, but she's already expecting it this time.

My mind is full of all the dirty things I'd do to her if she'd let me. Starting with her being on top of me like she is now.

My hands slip under her dress. This time she doesn't swat them away. I watch her looking down at my hands disappearing under her dress as she bites her lip.

My fingers press into her thighs, the thumbs digging dangerously close into the skin next to her underwear. I graze her over the fabric, and my cock twitches when I feel how damp it is.

"You-"

"Don't even say it." She huffs when she sees my face.

I laugh. "I wasn't going to."

"Oh really? What were you about to say?"

Obviously tease you about being wet.

But I've basically had a boner since she took off her hoodie, and I don't want that thrown in my face.

Actually, fuck it.

"You're wet."

"And you're hard."

"What are we going to do about it then?"

Her chest rises as she inhales, her breath trembling. I watch as she slowly removes one hand from my legs to bring the joint to her mouth.

I take the lighter from the bed and light it up for her.

Her head tils upwards as takes a long drag. She looks down at me, and I feel like my mind short circuits.

The last time I'd seen that look in her eyes was in her kitchen when I had my fingers inside her. It's so clear that she's turned on that I can barely refrain myself from rolling her on her back and make her moan until she cries.

The corners of her lips turn upwards and there's a glint of mischief passes her eyes. h

I want to say something to rile her up, anything, really, that would put me back on top of the situation. But the words die in my throat when she straightens her back, her other hand pulling her dress up to her hips.

I look at my hands digging into her thighs, then at her own hand letting go of the dress and slipping into her red lace underwear.

"Fuuck." Is all that comes out of me.

She starts rubbing herself with her middle finger, and that does it for me. She squeals when I turn us around so I can finally be on top of her. I press my erection against her, and she bends and spreads her legs. This way, I can feel how soaked she is through my pants.

"You're something else." I tell her.

She blows the smoke in my face as a response.

"Blowing smoke into someone's face means you want to fuck them."

She tilts her head and looks me in the eye. "So?"

Fuuck.

I sit back between her legs, and she helps me pull off her underwear. She locks eyes with me as I suck two fingers into my mouth.

The joint needs to be lit up again but she places it on top of her hoodie before looking back at me.

I lean forward again so I can hover over her and kiss her neck. She lets out a breathy moan into my ear and tries to grind up against me, but I keep her planted firmly against the mattress with one hand.

Her hips jerk when I tease her clit with my fingers at the same time as I lick behind her ear.

I get that rollercoaster feeling in my stomach when I feel her hands on the waistband of my pants.

Excitement and anticipation fill every fiber of my being when she starts pulling them down.

I push two fingers inside her and she grips into my waistband. She makes that sound, and it's all I need to keep going.

I bring my lips back onto hers, and she's already waiting for me. And if the way she kissed before was dirty, the way she's kissing me right now is fucking filthy.

Our breaths are mingled together as our lips and tongue slide against each other like they have a brain of their own. Biting down on lips and sucking and licking and kissing I can't even tell which one is which.

I'm pretty sure I could cum just from making out with her like this.

I bet you're fun to have sex with.

Her legs hook themselves into the back of my knees as she tries to pull me even closer.

I break the kiss so I can focus on moving my fingers again. My lips move to the back of her right ear, which I now realize is her weak spot.

"Remember when you said that I can't make you cum like this?"

Her fingers graze against the underside of my belly button. "Y-yes."

I press my lips to her ear, just because I know it'll make her shiver under me.

"I'll show you exactly what would've happened if Isabella hadn't walked in."

Her hands are gone from my waistband in an instant, one of them coming to my wrist.

"Wait, no."

I'm confused at first, but I pull my had out.

"What?"

Her eyes are filled with guilt now, and my excitement plummets to the ground.

She shakes her head and I roll to her side. I watch as she gets off the bed.

"Is it because of Isabella? You think she'd be mad if she found out?"

She looks at me and nods. "I can't do this to her. It's-fuck, we've already done more than I can bare to hide from her."

She's biting her nails as she paces around the room. I sit up and lean back against my palms, watching her have an inner battle with herself.

Why are you denying yourself this?

"Don't overthink it, Valentina. Isabella will be fine."

She stops to look at me. Her cheeks are flushed from what we've been doing, and her lips are red from me biting down on them. "What do you think I should do?"

Take your dress off.

"Whatever you want to do."

Her face turns serious, and she almost looks a little scared. She leans against the window, crossing her arms.

"I don't know what I want."

"Just do what you feel. Why do you-"

"Because it's like...there's no going back."

"Back to what?"

"To being normal."

I know she's right, but it's not like it would ruin our friendship.

"It's not like it would ruin our friendship." I say. "Maybe it would even add to it."

"What about my friendship with Isabella? If she finds out I sneaked around with you without telling her...I don't know. I just can't handle the thought of her not being able to forgive me."

"I respect that."

Even though my boner is painful, and she looks like a fucking painting leaning against the backdrop of the city lights, I understand.

She looks at the clock on the wall. My stomach sinks. She's leaving.

I feel like I need to apologize, but we both know I have no reason to do that. It would probably only upset her more.

"I think I'm going to go home. It's almost one."

I nod. "Okay."

"And I'm going to tell Isabella the next time I see her. If the circumstances are right."

She looks a little scared of my reaction. I know Isabella, and I know how much she loves Valentina. They're going to be okay. The fact that Valentina had enough self-control to put her friendship first only shows how much she also loves Isabella.

I light the joint back up as she pulls on her underwear. "Okay."

"Are you-are you in a relationship?" she asks, halfway through putting her hoodie on.

She struggles so I stand from the bed and go over to help her head find the right hole.

"I don't."

She frowns. "Are you sure?"

I laugh and her features soften. The guilt disappears, and she's back to being Valentina.

"Yes, I'm sure about my relationship status."

She takes the joint from me and takes a few puffs.

"Would that have changed something?" I ask as I follow her out of the room.

She turns around. "Of course. I mean, I assumed you weren't in a relationship because you kissed me-"

"You straddled me." I interject.

She rolls her eyes and waves her hand absentmindedly as she walks into the kitchen to get her coat and phone. "Details."

I lean against the door as I watch her put on her coat, then her shoes. She looks at me as she hands me back the joint.

"It would have mattered because I like having good karma. And I don't want to be the reason Ariana, or any other girl, gets hurt."

The sound of Ariana's name makes me tense up.

"We're not in an official relationship."

"Does she know?" she jokes as she buttons up her coat.

"I never-we're just not."

"Well, you did post a photo." She teases.

"I was having a good hair day." I sarcastically answer.

That makes her laugh, which in turn makes me smile.

We're okay.

She blinks at me without saying anything.

"What?"

"You need to move off the door so I can leave."

"Right."

I push myself off the door and open it for her. She steps out and turns to face me.

"Thanks. I really had fun."

I smile. "Anytime. I had fun too."

Neither of us is talking about the end of the night; just about the whole experience in general.

And I like that.

I take all glasses from the living room and the bedroom so I can bring them to the kitchen, before rolling myself another joint.

As I take the first drag, I realize that I don't know where my phone is.

I have two missed calls from Valentina when I find it in the kitchen. I haven't even thought about checking it since she arrived.

I press on the screen to call her back.

There's an uneasy feeling in my stomach as I wait for her to pick up.

"Matteo?"

She sounds like she's been crying, and my stomach drops.

"What happened?"

"They had a gun and they told me-" my body reacts on instinct, ears buzzing as I bolt to the door and slip into my sneakers " -and I did but they tried to take off my coat but then somebody else came down and they ran away."

She stops to breathe, voice shaky.

"Where are you?" I ask as I press the button for the elevator.

"At the subway station."

"Wall Street, right?"

"Y-yes."

"Don't move. I'll be there in two minutes. I'll stay on the line."

"Okay."

The elevator doesn't even go fast enough until I reach the underground parking lot and run to my car.

The tires screech as I speed out of the parking lot, blowing right through the stop sign.

One minute later, the subway station comes into view and I pull up in an empty parking spot next to the sidewalk.

"I'm coming down now."

I rush down the stairs and run to the second set of stairs leading to the platform.

She's sitting on a bench, hunched over with her phone to her ear.

"I'm here." I breathe into the receiver. She looks up.

I hate seeing the scared look on her face as she stands up. There's blood on the side of her face, mixed with the mascara running down her cheeks.

"I wanted to call the police, but then I decided against it. Then I wanted to call my dad but he's in Russia right now, and there's no one else I could think of-"she starts rambling.

I pull her into my arms as she silently cries, body still shaking from the shock.

"It's okay." I softly stroke her hair. "I'm here."

My blood is still boiling, and my ears are hot.

"How did he look like?"

"There were two of them."

My heart sinks and my rage intensifies.

She pulls her head back to look at me but doesn't step away from my embrace.

"What do you think I should do?"

Let me take care of it.

"Talk to your dad."

"So, I shouldn't call the police?"

I shake my head. "I think your dad can help."

She frowns. "Why?"

I let go of her before she can be the one to break away from me.

"I think he can hire private investigators that will do a better job than the police. They don't take muggings in New York that serious."

"But they had guns."

"You can do whatever you feel like doing, Valentina. I just-that's just how I would go about it."

She looks lost, and I feel helpless.

"What did they take?"

"My wallet."

"Do you have your house keys?"

She gulps before she nods. "They were in my coat."

"Fuckin' sons of bitches." I look around. "Where's the guy who came down on the platform?"

"He already left."

"He fuckin' left?"

"I told him you're on your way. He took the subway a minute ago."

"I'll take you home."

She nods and starts walking towards the stairs. I walk in silence next to her, already thinking about ten different ways I could kill those two assholes who assaulted her.

"Thank you." She says once we're in the car. "For coming. And for being here."

I turn to look at her. "You don't have to thank me, Valentina. I'm- fuck, I wish this didn't happen. But I'll always be there, for as long as you ask me to."

She smiles, but her eyes are still sad.

"Promise me you'll tell your dad before calling the police?"

She nods. "Promise."

I start the car as she types her address into the GPS.

"I'll tell him tomorrow. Right now, I just want to sleep."

Her apartment is a little over a mile away, so it doesn't take more than five minutes until I pull in front of the building.

I don't leave until I see the light turn on in her apartment. She comes over to the window and waves. I wave back before I light a cigarette and press on my dad's name in my contacts.

He answers on the second ring.

"Hi."

"Hi. It's one in the morning, what happened?"

"How can I get access to the security cameras from the Wall Street metro station?"

"What happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah. It was a friend of mine."

"Who?"

"Does it matter?"

"Was it Ariana Milanesi? Is she okay?"

"Yes, I mean no, it wasn't her. She left last week."

The fact that he knows she came over even though I never told him doesn't surprise me.

"It's Valentina."

"Yes."

"Why do you want to get the tapes?"

"Because I want to find the bastards who did that to her."

"That's not your job."

My blood pressure starts rising. My 'job'?!

"I know it isn't." I calmly say into the phone.

"So, you don't need to do anything about it. Let her own family take care of her."

"Would it had made a difference if it was Ariana?"

"Yes-"

"Why the fuck?"

"Because Ariana is the daughter of one of our guys in Milan, that's why. Valentina is the daughter of our-" he stops for a second and I take the occasion to call him out on his shit.

"Of our enemies? Is that it?"

"I didn't say that."

"I wasn't aware that we have ene-"

"I didn't fuckin say that, Matteo."

"Then why can't you just tell me how to get ahold of the video footage?"

"Because it's not your job to take care of her, Matteo!"

He sounds agitated, but he isn't mad.

I grit my teeth. "What if it was Aurora? Would that be my job then?"

He falls silent.

"But she's not Aurora." He speaks after a few moments. "She's a Russian-"

"I don't give a fuck where she's from or who her family is. She's my friend."

"Her family can take care of it. You can't do anything about it, Matteo. Stay out of it. You don't know who those people were and why they attacked her."

"They were some no-life fuck-"

"Or maybe they were one of her father's enemies."

My words get stuck in my throat, and I feel a rush of anger going through my body.

"Don't get involved when it comes to the Russians, you hear me?!"

"She's-"

"Your friend, yes. I understand, Matteo. Believe me, I do." He sighs, and he sounds sincere. "But you don't know who they are, and you don't know what's going on."

"I want to know. That's why I'm asking you."

"Listen to me, Matteo Lorenzo Giudice. Let. It. Go."

"Okay."

Neither of us say anything for a minute, but neither of us hangs up.

"Do you understand?"

"I do."

"Alright. Go home, get some rest. I'll see you on Monday."

I hang up before I throw my phone in the passenger's seat.

I spare one last look at Valentina's apartment. The curtains have been drawn, but the light is on.

The engine roars to life, and I start driving towards the subway station.

----

See in you the next chapter!

xoxo,

Ronnie