Inferno (Page 68)

OK. He was mad.

‘Look, I didn’t realize my coming to you for help would cause all of this.’ I gestured behind me. ‘That really wasn’t my intention. I just had to try something. After what Donata—’

‘Sophie,’ Valentino cut in. ‘Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?’

I brought my hand to my mouth and covered it. Were my lips still red and swollen? Had he seen somehow? Were there cameras in this place? ‘W-what?’ I stammered.

‘And you have the gall to sit in that room with the entire Falcone family and expect Nic to vote for your Sanctuary.’

‘I—I, no, I haven’t. Nic wants me to be safe, just like I want him to—’

‘You know, I suspected something,’ he said, cutting me off again. His voice was acidic. ‘But until just now, I didn’t know what it was.’

‘Look, I’m here for one reason only. I’ve given your family information, and I’d really like if we could keep the topic to that, and that alone.’ My chest was full of butterflies frantically beating against my ribcage.

Valentino rose from his chair, stretching his back and cracking his neck. It clicked, the sound echoing in the silence. ‘I won’t keep this secret for you. Not in a thousand years.’

Well, fine. He could tell Nic. I needed the damn Sanctuary, and that’s what mattered. ‘OK,’ I said. ‘I get it. You’re mad. The others will probably be mad too. But I’ve come here for my mother and me, and that’s what I’m focused on right now.’

‘Sei pazzo.’ He was looking at me like I had sprouted horns. He pointed behind me to where the others were waiting. ‘If you walk into that room, I can’t be responsible for what they’ll do to you.’

OK, harsh much? Nic might be pissed when he found out, but I doubted a ton of the other Falcones would revolt. Did they really care that much about each other’s outside relationships? Or had I misread how deeply their codes ran? My mind flicked back to my mother, to how Donata had bent her over that sink with a gun to her throat.

‘I’ll take my chances.’

‘Felice might shoot you point-blank in the head.’ His response was so dramatic, I thought it was a joke but there wasn’t an ounce of amusement in his voice – it was musical and lilting, yet his words were ice cold. He was expressionless, studying my reaction as he added, ‘I won’t stop him.’

‘Felice?’ Alarm quickened my pulse. I was starting to get the feeling we were on different planes. ‘Why the hell would Felice care?’

‘Don’t be so ignorant, Sophie. You’ve insulted my intelligence enough already.’ Valentino’s sneer did ugly things to his face. Luca’s face. He was ruining Luca’s face. ‘Felice will care the most.’

I knew I could never predict the temperature of Felice’s reactions – or his actions, for that matter but something definitely wasn’t adding up. The hostility in Valentino’s gaze was too strong, his words too severe. ‘Wait …’ I said, edging closer, watching him as he was watching me. ‘What are you talking about?’

He didn’t miss a beat. He didn’t even blink. ‘You know what I’m talking about, Sophie.’

Did I? Unease grumbled inside me. I steeled myself, determined, afraid, ready to get this over with. It was just one kiss. One stupid mistake. If he had something else to say then he could say it, but I wouldn’t play this game with him, not while my mother was at home waiting for me. ‘Just let me plead my case.’

‘You will have to, now that I have you.’ Valentino’s eyes narrowed as he came towards me, the wheels of his chair gliding soundlessly over the Falcone crest beneath us. ‘You’ve sealed your death sentence by coming here.’

‘Maybe,’ I said, turning to follow him and trying not to show my fear at his words. ‘Maybe it was sealed either way.’

Without turning around, he said, ‘There’s blood on your face.’

In the darkness of the long corridor, I furiously scrubbed my cheek with my fingers, removing the smudge of Luca’s blood that had imprinted on my skin during our kiss.

At the very end of the hallway Valentino tapped once on the door. He dropped his voice, and in barely more than a whisper, he said, ‘For these last minutes, you have your secret and your life. Enjoy them while they last.’

Goosebumps rippled along my arms as I shuffled into the room after him, and I wondered again, with rising panic, whether Valentino was really talking about the kiss at all.

CHAPTER THIRTY

THE SECRET

The meeting was held in a room at the very back of the house. A huge table made from varnished dark wood stretched the entire length of the room. The oil painting from the Priestly house in Cedar Hill – Valentino’s rendering of the avenging angel – hung in the middle of the room, and framed pictures of other Falcones, all dead, ranged along a shelf underneath. Calvino’s picture was nestled between Angelo’s and that of an old man with no hair – Rico Falcone, I guessed, since he was the most recent Falcone casualty.

Valentino stopped at the head of the table, and one by one, like a domino effect, every single Falcone – women and men, elderly and teenaged – formed a procession leading towards him. He held his hand out, his lids falling lazily as they each bent low and kissed his ring, murmuring Italian greetings as they turned to take their seats again. I pressed my back against the wall.