The Hitman's Mark

VALENTINA

"Bed her! Take her to bed!" Boisterous chants filled the reception hall as dozens of Russo and Romano men began surrounding the bride and groom.

Val frowned and stood from her seat at the head table, downing three gulps of champagne. She hated this part of wedding receptions. Most women in the famiglia retired by this hour in the night, but she was expected to stay.

This entire wedding was her doing, after all.

Whereas most of the loud, drunk men flooded the dancefloor to surround Adriano and Elisa, barbarically goading her uncle to take his new bride to bed, Val wandered toward the outskirts of the grand reception hall. She'd fulfilled her duties– danced with her father, uncle, and every mafioso that dared ask for her hand. Now, she deserved a bit of rest.

She found Matteo leaning against a pillar, his arms crossed against his massive chest as he watched the dancefloor with poorly concealed disinterest. His expression didn't shift when he noticed Val approaching.

"Your uncle's young bride looks fuckin' terrified," he muttered, nodding toward the dancefloor.

Val frowned. She didn't need to turn to see Elisa's horror. It had been painfully obvious throughout the entire reception. Even during her and Adriano's traditional first dance, the young woman seemed unable to meet his gaze. She flinched every time Adriano reached for her.

"When you remember who she was married to before Adriano, her fear isn't so surprising," Val answered, coming to stand beside the hitman. She swished the contents of her champagne flute back and forth.

The rumors surrounding Elisa Russo's first marriage to a man over three times her age were not happy ones. Although they'd only been wed a year, it didn't take much of an imagination to guess what the young woman had endured at the wrinkled hands of her husband.

And now, Val had practically shacked Elisa to another loveless marriage. Shame squeezed her chest.

Matteo glanced sideways at her, his expression softening as if he could sense her self-content. "Adriano is a good man. Elisa will be safe from harm, probably for the first time in her life."

Val nodded. "I know that. I still wish I'd spoken to Adriano about it first."

It was the first time she admitted her regret out loud. Immediately following the meeting at the Mazza compound, Val desperately wanted to apologize, but she'd seen the pride in her father's eyes and knew that a don did not apologize. Not for anything. It only made them appear weak.

So, Val didn't apologize either. Didn't allow her regret room to fester, at least not to the outside world. To any onlooker, she wore a mask of cool calm. The daughter and heir of the Hollowman, who'd once again earned his favor. Val couldn't afford to lose it again.

"Adriano stopped sulking about the marriage as soon as he laid eyes on Elisa at the engagement party," Matteo countered with a sardonic smile. "I assure you, he's more than pleased with the arrangement now."

It was true. Elisa's beauty softened the blow of Val's negotiation tactics. The twenty-four year old possessed startling blonde hair and fair, milky skin, a gift from her mother.  The only thing she'd inherited from her father was her last name.

"Take her to bed!" The cries across the reception hall grew louder, and Val wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Adriano placed his hand on the small of Elisa's back and began guiding her toward the hall's exit, undoubtedly eager to gain a bit of privacy from the boisterous crowd. Elisa's blue eyes widened, but she followed her new husband's lead.