The Hitman's Secret

Ch. 20: Heartache

VALENTINA

"Your hitman is in for a rude awakening come Saturday night," Bastian drawled, dropping onto the training mat beside Val.

Sweat poured from his forehead, sliding down the length of his neck to the hard planes of his bare chest. He'd just finished an extensive training session in preparation for the big opening night, while Val, Allison, and Luca watched.

In the past few weeks, Val had spent almost every evening in the soldati training warehouse. She would watch Bastian's training session. Then, when he'd finished, they would sprawl across the training mats, papers and plans scattered around them, and make arrangements for the Malevolo Fight Club.

During this time, the warehouse had become a safe haven of sorts. She hadn't felt comfortable in the mansion since overhearing her father and Lara's damning conversation. She'd become a stranger in her own home.

She cocked a brow, sparing him the smallest glance before returning her attention to the laptop on her thighs. "So you've said," she hummed, before adding in a murmur, "At least one hundred freakin' times."

Allison, who had been flipping through various options for table decorations, rolled her eyes. "I'd take a rusty Matteo over you any day."

Val fought to contain her smile. Allison made it no secret that she didn't like Bastian. She claimed his arrogance gave her a headache, and she feared that her eyes would get stuck in the back of her head with how often she rolled her eyes in his presence.

Bastian grinned like a wolf, unfazed by her blatant distaste. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the little battles that they waged against one another. "Good to see you, too, Allison."

She emitted a soft hmph and kept sorting through her papers.

Out of the corner of her eye, Val noticed Luca shift imperceptibly closer to her best friend. Again, Val hid her smile. She wasn't so preoccupied with work that she hadn't noticed their budding closeness.

Bastian brought a water bottle to his lips, draining its contents in a matter of seconds before directing all of his attention at Val once more.

"I heard from a friend that Costa hasn't spent a day in the gym leading up to our fight," he huffed a chuckle. "Do you know if that's true?"

Val chewed on her bottom lip. It felt wrong, talking about Matteo in his absence. And with Bastian, no less.

She shrugged, fingers absently tracing circles on her laptop's touchpad. "I don't know. I haven't seen him."

It was the truth, and a sharp pang of longing speared her in the chest at the admission.

Matteo's absence... It hurt. Far more than the hot and cold extremes that their relationship teetered between. She'd rather fight with him one hundred times than endure another second of this emptiness.

"I'm surprised," Bastian mused, a crooked smile peeling on his lips. "I didn't think he let you out of his sight, let alone abandon you for weeks at a time."

"My father keeps him busy," she answered, feigning indifference and praying that he didn't see the heat creeping up her neck.

In truth, as far as she knew, Matteo hadn't been sent on any long, far-away assignments lately. She didn't actually know what pulled him away from the mansion– away from her.

At night, she sometimes found herself waiting for him to return from his mundane famiglia affairs. On occasion, he returned suspiciously late, especially when he was only supposed to be transporting weapons or surveying a new partner. Other nights, he simply never returned. On those nights, Val told herself that he was most likely spending the evening at his mother's house. She didn't want to consider the alternative...