Becoming Mrs DeLuca novel Chapter 72

Chapter 72

VALENTINA

MG

I hesitated just outside the cigar lounge after Marco slipped inside. Through the narrow gap of the slightly ajar door, muffled voices buzzed softly, but no words reached me clearly. Ever since that terrifying night when Adrian had nearly harmed my brother, I found it impossible to feel at ease whenever those two were alone together. Despite having worked alongside each other over the past months, the uneasy tension between them remained palpable.

When the door finally swung open, I snapped upright, my heart pounding wildly. Marco emerged, his face composed—thankfully, no sign of disaster.

“What’s going on?” I asked, scanning his features for any trace of unease. “Is everything okay?”

He nodded, sliding his hands casually into his pockets. “Yeah. I just wanted to tell you before anyone else hears—I probably won’t be around much longer. I’m moving to New York.”

His words hung in the air for a moment before they fully registered. “You’re moving?”

“Yeah, I’ll be working under Rico for a while,” he said, his tone casual but tinged with something sharper beneath the surface.

“Oh.” The disappointment hit me harder than I expected. Although we hadn’t spent much time together since my wedding, it was comforting to know he was close by—that if I ever needed a piece of home, my brother was right there. “Is it because of what happened with Adrian?”

Marco let out a short, bitter laugh. “Of course it is. He accused us of having an affair, Valentina. Can you believe that? I can’t work for a man who looks at me like I’m about to stab him in the back. It’s too much nonsense, even for me.”

I winced at his harsh words but didn’t reprimand him. “He’s not like that anymore,” I said softly. “He just… he didn’t know how to trust back then.”

Marco raised an eyebrow, surprised at how quickly I defended Adrian. “You actually care about him.”

“I do,” I said without hesitation. “It’s complicated, but he’s good to me now. He’s not the man he used to be.”

He studied me for a long moment before his shoulders relaxed with a visible sigh of relief. “I’m glad to hear that. Really. But I can’t stay here right now. Things between Adrian and me are… tense, and I’d rather not give him another reason to point a gun at me.”

“Can’t you try to make peace before you leave?” I asked quietly. “I don’t want there to be bad blood between you two. You’re both so important to me.”

He shook his head slowly. “Maybe someday. Not right now. Working under Rico will let me build new connections. Honestly, some distance might be good for both of us.”

I swallowed hard and forced a small smile. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

The news took my breath away. “That soon?”

He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but I caught the flicker of sadness in his eyes.

Without thinking, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him. For a moment, he stiffened—classic Marco—but then he returned the hug, resting his chin gently on my head.

“Don’t disappear,” I whispered. “Promise me you’ll call, even if it’s just to say you’re alive.”

He pulled back and gave me a faint smile. “You know me. I always survive. And I’ll call.”

***

Adrian and Damien left shortly after lunch, leaving the house feeling unusually quiet. To break the stillness, I decided to take the kids and Milo to the dog park. The air was crisp and fresh, the kind that made you want to breathe deeply. Stefan held my hand tightly while Sofia toddled beside us, her small feet stumbling over the soft grass, and Milo raced ahead, her tail wagging furiously in excitement.

I had barely settled onto a bench when a familiar figure appeared, limping toward me with the aid of a cane.

It was Adrian’s father, Ernesto. My stomach clenched tightly.

“Valentina, may I join you?” he asked politely, his voice roughened by age.

Elia immediately rose, making room beside me.

“Of course,” I replied, though a prickling suspicion crept along my nerves. “How did you know I was here?”

“Domenico told me,” Ernesto answered simply.

***

“Because Adrian refuses to know. He’s stubborn, like me. But one day the truth will come out, Valentina, and when it does, it will destroy him—unless he already has another child. A child of his own blood. You could fix that. You could give him an heir.”

I looked across at the children. Stefan was showing Sofia how to hold a stick for Milo, both of them laughing as the dog bounded away. “I can’t do that,” I said firmly.

Ernesto’s hand landed lightly on mine, the gesture more commanding than comforting. “He wouldn’t be angry if you forgot to take the pill one night. You’re young. Accidents happen.”

I jerked my hand away, staring at him in disbelief. “No,” I said firmly. “I won’t lie to him. I won’t betray his trust. If Adrian wants to believe those children are his, then that’s his truth—and I will protect it.”

Ernesto sighed deeply, the sound rough and weary. “No wonder he’s infatuated with you,” he muttered.

Before I could respond, Stefan spotted his grandfather and ran toward us, arms outstretched. Ernesto’s entire expression softened as he lifted the boy into his lap.

“There’s my little warrior,” he said, tousling Stefan’s hair.

Stefan grinned, launching into an animated story about Milo and her new friend, his words tumbling together in excitement. I stood nearby, gently rocking Sofia in my arms after she’d tripped in the grass. Ernesto pointed out a massive Great Dane, making both children giggle. Watching them together stirred a strange ache inside me—an ache I couldn’t quite put into words.

When he finally rose to leave, I followed him a few steps away from the others. “Please,” I said quietly, “don’t ever say anything to them or to Adrian. Stefan’s talking again. He’s happy. He’s healing. Don’t undo that just because of blood.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “You should remember who you’re talking to.”

“I do,” I said, keeping my voice steady despite my racing heart. “But I will protect those children. Even from their own grandfather if I have to.”

For a moment, I thought he might be angry. Instead, he chuckled—a rough but genuine sound—and patted my shoulder. “Adrian’s a lucky man.”

With that, he turned and limped back toward his waiting limousine.

Elia approached cautiously. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah,” I said, though my heart still raced. “I just hope I managed to convince him.”