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“I know,” he cuts me off, placing his hands around mine. “You know I would never go against your father’s wishes, but I never understood his treatment of Enzo in the end.”
“I mean, he’s overprotective, overbearing, and wants to extinguish any ounce of joy I might ever experience,” I mumble, knowing I’m acting like a petulant teenager. I cross my arms and stare Luigi down. “Don’t you agree?”
“No, I don’t,” he says. “I think he was trying to protect you at the time. You were always meant to take over the family, and he didn’t want you … distracted.”
“In love, you mean?”
“Pregnant at nineteen, I mean,” he says pointedly.
“Well, that might be the only thing my father’s ever failed at,” I scoff. “Besides, Matilda is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I regret nothing.”
“Of course, Tiny,” he says, using my childhood nickname. His eyes soften, and I instantly feel bad for taking my anger out on him. “We all love Matilda, but it did complicate life for you. Anyway, that’s something we need to talk about.”
“What?” I ask, moving to the edge of my chair. I’m instantly on alert, ready to eliminate any threat to my child.
“Enzo knows,” he says slowly. “About Matilda.”
My world comes crashing down. It’s like I’ve been sucked into a vacuum, all the noise and light fading from my view. The hum of the coffeemaker, the whooshing of the wind, the kitchen walls—everything falls away, and I’m floating in complete darkness.
“Valentina!” an alarmed voice calls from somewhere in the distance. I feel rough, strong hands gripping my arms, pulling me out of the dark void.
Like breaking through ice after being trapped under, I gasp for air. Slowly, my surroundings come back into view, snapping together like puzzle pieces.
“Valentina?” Uncle Luigi calls, shaking me slightly. He’s bent over me, his face inches from mine, concern stamped on every single wrinkle.
“What? What happened?”
“You fainted,” he explains, relief washing over him. “Drink this.”
I slowly sip the ice-cold water he thrusts into my hand and try to wrap my mind around this earth-shattering news.
Enzo knows about Matilda.
All these years, I’ve kept her from him—partly out of anger, but mostly because my father threatened to take her away if I ever revealed her identity to Enzo. He’d never allow his granddaughter to be raised close to a man like him, even if it meant keeping her away from me too. And now, Enzo knows.
And he probably thinks I’m a massive bitch for keeping her a secret.
I drop my face into my hands with a groan and furiously massage my temples. Uncle Luigi watches me closely, his forehead creased with worry.
“There’s something else,” he says quietly.
“Oh god, what on earth could top that?” I cry, glaring up at him.
“Remember the spray paint? And the song?” he asks, nervously tapping his fingers against the table.
"How can I not?" The search for the culprit was fruitless since no one saw who snuck inside, and the security cameras didn’t capture anything.
“The8 have been targeting Enzo, too. That’s how he learned about Matilda. I think someone’s out to get him.”
“Or us,” I say worriedly. “Are we in danger? Is Matilda in danger?”
Uncle Luigi stares out the window quietly, a war playing out in his mind. Finally, he sighs and steeples his fingers in front of his face. His tired eyes meet mine, and I know we’re about to do something he doesn’t like.
"I think we should lay low and see what happens,” he finally says. “Enzo is looking into it and assured me he’ll keep us updated. If we bring this to your father, you know you’ll be onthe first flight back to California, and… I can see that’s not what you want.”
“Thank you,” I breathe, flashing him a small smile of gratitude.
“We’re safe here,” he continues. “Matilda is safe. We’ll beef up our security for the next few weeks. But Valentina?”