Becoming Mrs DeLuca novel Chapter 55

VALENTINA

I dropped the blow–dryer and ran out of the bathroom, still wrapped in a towel, and the water in my hair dripping down my shoulders. The sight that met me in the bedroom stopped my breath.

Adrian had Marco pinned against the wall, and his forearm was digging into my brother’s throat. The veins in Adrian’s arm bulged with strain; the fury in his face was unrecognizable- almost feral.

“Adrian!” I gasped.

His head snapped toward me. For a split second his eyes took me in. My bare skin, wet hair, towel slipping, and the rage there intensified into something even darker.

He threw Marco to the floor with brutal force. The thud made my stomach lurch. In one motion Adrian drew his knife, dropped to his knees, and pressed the blade to my brother’s throat. Blood welled instantly beneath the edge.

“Adrian, stop!” I lunged forward, grabbing his arm. “What are you doing? Stop it, please!”

He didn’t even look at me. His voice was low, filled with fury. “What the fuck are you doing alone with my wife?”

For a second I couldn’t even understand the words. They didn’t fit the moment. Then their meaning hit me, and disbelief crashed over me.

“Adrian, have you lost your mind? He’s my brother! Let him go!”

Marco tried to move, but Adrian’s weight held him down with the knife still poised against his neck. My brother’s face was turning red, his eyes wide with panic.

“Please,” I begged. “Whatever you think is happening, it’s not! Adrian, you’re hurting him!”

Still nothing. Just the heaving of his chest.

A sound came from the hallway. A small and uncertain sound. We both froze. Adrian followed my gaze toward the door.

Stefan stood there, hair messy from sleep, with his tablet clutched to his chest. His wide eyes darted between us: Marco on the floor, me kneeling beside him, Adrian standing with a knife hidden behind his back.

My blood curdled.

Adrian straightened, and his voice was suddenly calm. “Go back to your room, figlio mio. You can play a little longer. I’ll come tuck you in soon.”

Stefan’s eyes flicked to me for reassurance. I nodded and forced a smile I didn’t feel. After a long pause, he turned and disappeared down the hall.

The moment the door to his room clicked shut, the mask slipped. Adrian turned back, closing our door with slow precision.

Marco staggered to his feet. I stepped between them. My knees were shaking, but I planted myself like a wall.

Adrian’s voice dropped to a deadly whisper. “I’ll ask once more. What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing. Here?”

Marco’s hand went to his belt and pulled his own knife. “Is this how Seren disappeared?”

Adrian lunged for him in an instant.

“Adrian, stop!” I screamed, trying to pull him back. They collided, both knives flashing. I shoved myself between them, but then pain tore up my arm, white–hot and shocking. I gasped and stumbled back.

Adrian froze. His eyes widened when he saw the blood running down my forearm.

“Did you-” he snarled at Marco.

“It was you,” I cut in before Marco could speak. My voice shook, but I forced the lie out. “You did it, Adrian. You hurt me in your blind rage.”

Adrian looked down at his knife, the blade was smeared red. Whether it was his or Marco’s that had cut me, I couldn’t tell.

Marco drew back his own weapon, breathing hard. “Should I take you to a doctor?”

“No.” My voice was like steel. “Leave. Now.”

“Valentina –

“Leave!”

39

Adrian’s nostrils flared, his gaze locked on the blood slipping between my fingers. Marco backed toward the door, not turning his back on Adrian.

“I’ll call you in thirty minutes,” he said quietly.

I gave a small nod, still trembling.

Just before he slipped out, Adrian said, voice cold as death, “There’s nowhere you can hide if I find out you betrayed me. Not even a different city or country will save you.”

Marco’s reply was just as dreadful. “And if you ever hurt Valentina, I’ll kill you.”

Then he was gone.

Silence crashed down on us like a wave.

Adrian turned toward me. The fury was fading, leaving something raw- distrust, guilt and confusion. He sheathed his knife and took a hesitant step forward. I tensed.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he murmured, the rasp in his voice almost human again.

He reached for my arm. I flinched but let him pull my hand away from the cut. The blood had slowed to a thin line. His brows furrowed in what looked like genuine regret. “Did I do this?”

“Does it matter?” My voice broke. “You started that fight. You lost control. You told me I’d never have reason to flinch from you, and tonight you proved yourself wrong.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Yeah, only Marco,” I said bitterly.

He gritted his teeth, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “Come. Let me clean it.”

I followed him numbly into the bathroom. Neither of us spoke as he lifted me onto the vanity, pulled out the first aid kit from one of the drawers and cleaned the cut with practiced hands, then pressed a bandage over it.

When he finally met my eyes, they were colder again. “What was Marco doing here alone with you?”

I blinked, incredulous. “He came to visit. I sent Elia home. There was no need for him to be here. Marco can protect me.”

Adrian’s hand came up, cupping my neck. “Why were you showering before I got home?”

I stared at him. “What?”

“Why did you shower?” His voice sharpened. “Answer me.”

“I wasn’t aware I needed permission to shower too.”

“If you don’t tell me why,” he said softly, dangerously, “I’ll have to assume you were washing away proof of what you did before.”

I froze. “Are you actually saying what I think you’re saying?”

He gripped my thighs, his face close to mine. “Then answer me.”

“Sofia puked on me, Adrian,” I whispered. “If you don’t believe me, check the washing machine.”

He stared at me, then stepped back and left the room.

I sank down from the counter, legs trembling. The shock hit in waves now that the danger had passed. My husband had just tried to kill my brother.

When Adrian came back, his anger had cooled, but something inside me had snapped.

“I can’t believe you thought I was cheating on you with my brother,” I said quietly. “That’s what you thought, right?”

He didn’t answer, just uncuffed his sleeves. Avoidance, his favorite defense.

“You should trust me,” I said, voice rising. “Instead, you’re so blinded by jealousy you’d accuse me of that? You’re surrounded by half–naked women in your clubs every night, and I never accuse you. What’s wrong with you?”

Adrian’s gaze flicked up. “Why would I cheat with any of them? All I can think about is you.”

The words hit me like a blow. “You think of me?”

He didn’t answer. He just watched me, jaw clenched, the tension in his body still trembling beneath the surface.

“Then why push me away? Why not trust me?”

He tugged at his tie in a sharp, almost violent motion. “I don’t push you away. We share a life.”

“We share a bed,” I snapped. “We talk about the kids. But every time I try to see who you are, you build another wall to block me out. And now, you almost killed my brother. Tell me why.”

He didn’t say anything. There was just heavy and cold silence.

I turned my back, reaching for my nightgown. “Don’t touch me. Not tonight. If you refuse to tell me the truth, I won’t keep pretending everything’s fine. I won’t sleep with a man I can’t trust.”

Adrian began unbuttoning his shirt, calm to the point of cruelty. I almost wished he’d shout instead.

He glanced at me once, with an unreadable expression, then said quietly, “I’ll go tuck Stefan in.”

And then he was gone.

The door shut softly behind him.

I sank onto the edge of the bed, my bandaged arm throbbing in rhythm with my heart. For the first time since our wedding, I wasn’t sure who I was married to anymore — the protector, or the threat.