Becoming Mrs DeLuca novel Chapter 22

Chapter 22

When I came out, dressed in another dark three piece suit, I spotted Valentina curled on the sofa in the living room with her phone in hand. A soft smile played on her lips as she typed.

I strode over, my steps deliberate. “Who are you texting?”

Her head snapped up, brows knitting together. “What?”

“I asked who you’re talking to.” My tone was sharper than intended, but I didn’t rein it in.

A flicker of unease crossed her face. She shifted under my shadow, clutching the phone a little tighter. “It’s Gemma. Your sister.”

I held out my hand. “Let me see.”

Valentina hesitated for only a heartbeat before placing the phone in my palm. No resistance or argument. I glanced at the screen.

[I apologize for my brother’s rudeness. He won’t say it himself, so I’ll do it for him. I’d say it’s because he’s a man, but no. Don’t blame the Y–chromosome- it’s just him being a dickhead. ]

My jaw flexed. Typical Gemma.

Valentina rose from the sofa, her chin tilted ever so slightly. “I was telling you the truth.”

I didn’t take her word for it. My thumb scrolled through the chat, scanning the thread between her and Gemma. There was nothing damning, just a short reply that she was “still getting used to me” after Gemma had asked how she was. Innocent enough.

Valentina let out a small, weary sigh, and let her hands fall to her sides. “Trust is the foundation of a marriage.”

The corner of my mouth tightened. “And what do you know about marriage?” Was she really trying to lecture me about relationships? “You’re twenty one. Don’t lecture me, girl. I’ve been married before. I understand what works and what doesn’t far better than you.”

Hurt flashed in her eyes, it was a crack in her composure she couldn’t hide. Then, soft but pointed, she said, “I wonder if Serena would agree with that.”

The name landed like a strike. For a second, I went still. Then the fury hit, hot and fast, coursing through my veins. My chest tightened, my pulse hammering in my temples. Valentina seemed to realize her mistake the instant the words left her mouth- her lips snapped shut. Her eyes widened, horrified at what she’d dared to

say.

Before I could unleash the anger clawing up my throat, a knock rattled the door. Grinding my teeth, I forced myself to turn away from her and cross the room. The distance was necessary- I needed it.

I yanked open the door. Gemma stood there, and her smile instantly faded when she caught sight of my face. Her gaze flicked past me, no doubt landing on Valentina behind my shoulder. “Everything all right?” she asked quietly.

My expression didn’t soften. I pulled the door wider, revealing the group gathered in the hall- Gemma, Valentina’s mom, Isabelle, my own mother, and a handful of other women, all here for the ritual they’d been waiting for. The retrieval of the bloodstained sheets. Tradition demanded it, and I had no patience to indulge their theatrics longer than necessary.

“Go on.” I said flatly. My tone left no room for argument. “Take the sheets. I don’t have all morning.”

“Rude as always,” mom muttered as she swept past me into the suite, her disapproval clinging to the air like cheap perfume.

Gemma lingered at the doorway, her hesitation only confirming what I already suspected. Good. I caught her by the arm and pulled her aside, lowering my voice but letting the edge in it carry. “I saw what you wrote my

wife.”

Her brows shot up. “Are you spying on her now?” she snapped. Her tone was more defensive than surprised.

I leaned in, tightening my grip just enough to remind her who she was speaking to. “Stay out of my marriage, Gemma. I’ll only say this once. Remember your place, and don’t you ever bring up Serena to Valentina. Understood?”

She jerked her arm free and gave a curt nod. “Of course.”

I released her and turned back into the room. Valentina was smiling politely at the women who had gathered around her. Their looks were soft and sympathetic, dripping with a compassion that had nothing to do with respect and everything to do with gossip. I wasn’t about to let Gemma or anyone draw her into their nosy conversation.

Crossing the room, I placed myself at Valentina’s side before they could drag her deeper into their chatter. She glanced up at me and, to my surprise, reached out, brushing my forearm with hesitant gentleness.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. Her wide eyes searched mine. “I shouldn’t have mentioned your late wife. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Her sincerity caught me off guard. For a moment, my anger faltered, leaving only the weight of her honesty. I gave a short, measured nod, not trusting myself to say more. Instead, I rested my hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the door. “Come on. We should head down to the banquet hall. Breakfast will be served there.”

She glanced toward the bedroom, where muffled voices floated through the door- the women, laughing and whispering as they carried out their little ritual. Valentina’s lips curved in a sheepish smile. “Shouldn’t we wait for them to finish?”

“I don’t need to see it.”

“You’re right,” she admitted softly, her smile lingering though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

I hesitated, on the verge of saying something more, but I let it die on my tongue. Instead, I steered her out of the suite and into the hall.

The elevator ride stretched in silence. I could feel her tension in the way she stood too straight with her hands folded in front of her as if to stop them from fidgeting.

“The worst is over,” I said.

Her head turned so quickly I thought she might have misunderstood me. But her lips twitched, a flicker of amusement Caking through her composure. “Are you talking about our wedding night?”

I studied her, tilting my head, trying to gauge whether it was a joke or a challenge. She was fighting back laughter, I could see it in her eyes.

“You don’t need to pretend,” I said evenly. “The night was difficult for you. I felt your trembling.”

“It scared me,” she admitted. “That’s true. But it’s over now, and honestly… it wasn’t as unpleasant as I thought it would be.”

My brows lifted at her bluntness. Married or not, her unguarded honesty still threw me off balance. Most people I knew, especially women in her position, hid behind careful words. Valentina didn’t seem capable of that, or maybe she simply didn’t care to.

“That’s… good, I suppose,” I said after a pause, uncertain how else to respond.

A small laugh escaped her. She leaned into me, brushing her shoulder against mine. “Yeah, I suppose so too.”

Before I could say anything more, the elevator doors slid open with a chime. Our strange, half–playful exchange evaporated as I guided her out and toward the largest banquet room. The low hum of voices greeted us before we even stepped inside.

The space was already crowded- the men of both families gathered in clusters, along with the most prominent members of the brotherhood. Suits, cigars, and hushed conversations filled the room. The atmosphere was thick with authority and expectation.

“Let the meat show begin,” Valentina muttered under her breath.

My hand found her waist, giving her side a firm squeeze in warning. “Careful,” I murmured, though I had to bite back a smile. “You’re my wife now, Valentina. You have to act the part. I can’t afford to lose face in public.”

She stiffened at that. “I know,” she said quickly.

I didn’t have to worry. Once we stepped further into the room, Valentina came alive in a way that surprised me. She carried herself with a natural poise, her words were light and her smile was easy. Where her mother, Isabelle, could sometimes come across as calculating, Valentina was warm and disarming. She charmed everyone within reach, slipping effortlessly into conversation, and it was impossible not to notice how people leaned toward her, caught in her orbit.

I didn’t like how many men’s eyes lingered on her, drinking her in. They didn’t dare to cross a line. None of them offered their hand or risked stepping too close, but the hunger in their gazes was enough to set my teeth on edge.

Across the room, Damien caught my eye and had the audacity to wink, as if Valentina’s effect on the men amused him. I ignored it, forcing myself to turn toward the entrance just as movement caught my attention.

My mother entered, side by side with Valentina’s mother. Between them, they carried the sheet. The room’s noise seemed to dip as the women crossed to the far side and draped the fabric carefully over two chairs, where it would sit like a silent witness to the night before.

Valentina let out a tiny choked sound, and her cheeks took on a red hue the moment she spotted them. “This is mortifying

I peered down. I wasn’t embarrassed, but 1, too, didn’t like to show this glimpse of our private life to the public. With Serena, I hadn’t cared, maybe because I’d been young and eager to impress. “It’s a sign of your honor, nothing to be ashamed of.”

“And a sign of your ruthlessness, no?” There was a small twitch of her mouth and that surprising twinkle in her eyes as if she’d made a secret joke.

“I suppose it is. Given your age, I should have had qualms. That I didn’t is a sign of my nature.”

After the first commotion and applause had settled, Valentina and I headed to the table with our closest family as well as Rico and his wife. Valentina’s mother immediately hugged her. Father patted my shoulder, searching my eyes. Whatever he was worried to see, it wouldn’t be present in a room with acquaintances.

Gemma hugged me despite my reluctance of public displays of affection. “I really hope you tried to be a decent human being to that girl.”

I wasn’t sure about my abilities to be decent at all. It wasn’t in my nature, but I hadn’t been impatient or rough. with Valentina. “Mind your own business.” She narrowed her eyes. I had lost count of the times I’d told her this, but she failed to comply with my wishes.

“Everything all right?” Valentina whispered as we took our seats at the head of the table.

I leaned closer. “My sister worried I wasn’t decent to you.”

“Because of the sheets?” Horror rang in her words.

“Because of my nature.”

She tilted her head in that curious way. Her hair smelled like a strawberry field in summer, and the insane urge to press my nose into it rose up inside me. “You were decent.” She touched my hand resting on my thigh with her fingertips.

Feeling eyes on me, I turned back to the table. Marco, Paul, and my father watched curiously. My expression tightened.