7. Valerie

Chapter seven

Valerie

" L et's go, Valerie," Natalia says as she leans against the kitchen counter.

"I know that I agreed, but what if we just stay in instead?" I plead, jutting out my bottom lip.

"Reservations have been made already, Val. Besides, you've been cooped up inside for the last few days with absolutely no contact with the outside world." She folds her arms across her chest.

"I've had contact with the outside world."

"Running into Antonio doesn't count." I open my mouth to interrupt, but she cuts me off. "No Vitales count," Natalia continued.

Rolling my eyes, I slowly slide off my seat. She's right. Somewhere in the middle of the night, I'd fallen into a deep spiral. The news of my father's medical coverage and that very suspicious note were enough to trigger it. A mixture of paranoia and fear of my mortality slowly crept in. Intrusive thoughts had me on edge the entire night, and I barely got any sleep.

Not to mention the thought that there was a slight chance that it was Mattheo who slipped that note into my laptop bag, I'd be foolish to not think there was a possibility that he was here in Tevici. Possibly in my house .

And of course, the realisation that I'll be working for all the brothers, specifically Ambrose, by next week.

"Put your best dress on, the place is fancy!" Natalia yells after me as I ascend the stairs.

"My best dress?" I mumble to myself. I wouldn't know what that looked like if it smacked me in the face.

My eyes scan the entirety of my closet, which isn't much. I decided to unpack at 2 a.m. this morning when I woke up breathless on a sweat-soaked pillow. No reason to leave things in bags since I'll be here for a while, might as well get comfortable.

I settle on a short pink dress—its main fabric a silk chiffon, graced with a pink floral applique line. I bought it for the exhibition of my debut painting but never ended up wearing it because Mattheo said it would draw attention away from the actual art.

I scoff to myself, I was such an idiot for believing everything that asshole said. It was one of the biggest nights in my career and I let him talk me out of shining.

"Val." Natalia's voice makes me jump. She eyes me worriedly. "Everything okay? Are you ready to go?" She asks.

I nod quickly slip on matching pink heels and follow her downstairs

"So, which restaurant are we going to?" I ask as we get into the cab.

" Scala ," Natalia says, looking over at me.

"Can't we go anywhere that's not owned by the Vitales?" I sigh, "I think I've seen them enough for one week."

Nat rolls her eyes. "Unless you can afford to fly to another country, then no. They own everything."

Deep down I know that she's right, it's foolish to think we could go anywhere in Tevici without running into something owned by the Vitales'. Honestly, that isn't what bothers me much, it's the fact that they always happen to be at all of those places.

As we arrive outside of Scala , I immediately notice a black G-Wagon . The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and I wish I hadn't noticed it at all. It could be anyone one of them, hell, it could be anyone. But, the thought that it might be Ambrose has my body feeling like someone has thrown cold water all over me.

I run my hands over the goosebumps that cover my arms hoping they'll disappear. As we enter the restaurant, I look around at how beautifully it's decorated. Whichever brother is in charge of this place is doing an amazing job. The delicious aroma of food is enough to have anyone drooling as they step through the door.

Natalia thanks the hostess as she walks off after directing us to our table.

"This place is amazing, it makes all the places in Paris look like a dump." I sigh, as I continue to look around, my eyes glancing over the menu as well.

I immediately notice the names of two of Italy's top chefs, and let out a gasp knowing I'll finally get to try meals created by them.

"I'm sure Paris has places just as stunning," Natalia smiles

She knows I'd rather shit in my hands and clap than go back to Paris anytime soon. Everything in that city reminds me of Mattheo and I'd rather not have a panic attack if I can avoid it. Easier said than done when the thought alone had my head swirling with memories of the note.

"Speaking of Paris, since you aren't heading back anytime soon, are you getting a job?" she asks, looking up at me over her menu.

"I may, or may not, be starting as Ambrose's assistant on Monday." I shrug while still scanning the menu.

A young blonde waitress walks over and asks if we're having anything to drink. The interruption provides enough of a distraction for me to think of what I'm possibly going to say next.

"Can we get two Negroni Sbagliato's please?" Natalia orders for us.

"And can I please get a strawberry milkshake as well," I speak up.

Instantly all eyes are on me as the waitress nods and walks away.

"Val, we're at one of Tevici's top restaurants and you're ordering a milkshake." Natalia looks at me slightly concerned.

I shrug. "We could be on the moon, and I'll probably still order one."

Milkshakes, specifically strawberry ones, have always been my favourite drink since I was a child. My mother would hate it whenever I drank it, complaining about how much my stomach would ache after. Even though my lactose intolerance left me close to death, nothing could ever stop me from drinking it.

"So, back to you working for the Vitales." Natalia changes the topic back to me.

"I need a job to help pay for things for Papá, and Antonio offered me one."

"Why didn't you tell me anything?" She stares at me wide-eyed.

"It's nothing to worry about. I mainly need a job to hold me over until my commissions work out." I shrug.

"What's the catch?" Natalia pushes.

"There isn't one. All he said was that Ambrose can be quite difficult," I say slumping back into my chair.

"Hmm, of course he is. He probably fucked his last assistant, and then fired her," Natalia scoffs.

"Just because the news portrays him a certain way doesn't mean that's actually how he is." I rush to his defence.

I have no idea why, considering he's been nothing but an asshole since recognising me. Something about seeing him cry makes me think there's more going on behind the scenes than what he lets the world see.

"Just be careful, please?" she pleads.

"Of course. Besides, if anything goes wrong, at least I can sue them for millions." I attempt to joke, but it's only met with a grave expression from my best friend.

The drinks arrive at our tables just in time. I'm grateful that our waitress seems to have a sixth sense about bringing the drinks in at the perfect time.

"My manager is starting to stress me out so much," Natalia sighs as she takes the last sip of her third drink. After the first Negroni Sbagliato, we both moved on to other drinks, hers being margaritas. She insists that tequila is the only alcohol that doesn't leave her with a hangover, and even though I love it almost as much, it always leaves me feeling like death the next day.

"She seems like such a sweet lady," I say, leaning forward to slip some more pasta into my mouth.

"She is an absolute sweetheart to anyone she meets for the first time. As soon as she is comfortable around you, it's like this monster is unleashed. She's been laying on the pressure extra thick these last few weeks." Nat sighs.

She's right in the middle of her second world tour, as well as promotions for her second studio album. Which means interviews after interviews and more red carpets than I'll probably see in my lifetime. I'm surprised her visit to Tevici is as long as it is, usually, her team keeps it to a few days maximum.

As my eyes scan the room, I take in the different types of people in the restaurant. A chill runs down my spine as I notice a door off to the back of the restaurant. If it weren't for the large men guarding the door, I would love to assume it is a utility closet, but I have a feeling there's more to it than a few brooms and mops.

"I'll be right back," I say as I stand up from the table.

"Mmh, are you going to the bathroom?" Nat asks, swallowing her drink quickly. "I'll go with you."

"It's okay, it's just over there. I'll be fine." I wave her off and begin walking towards the back of the restaurant.

A chill runs down my spine, and I glance over my shoulder to see if anyone is behind me. The restaurant is seemingly unchanged behind me, not a single person moved from their spot. I don't know why but it felt as if someone was right behind me.

As I round the corner, I walk straight into a solid surface. Embarrassment climbs up my face and I close my eyes as I bring my hand up to rub my head. It isn't until I feel a warmth in front of me that I open them again, and look straight ahead at the solid surface and realise, it is indeed a person. A very large, muscular person.

My nose recognises him long before my eyes can adjust to the suit, Ambrose. My eyes rise to see him in all his glory. The heat emitting from his body is intoxicating, and if I wasn't in such a delicate, short dress I'd feel the need to begin discarding items of clothing.

I mentally shake the thought of dropping my clothes for Ambrose out of my head as I realise how bad it sounds, even inside my head.

The glare he's giving me is enough to dissolve every ounce of warmth in the small hallway. I stumble back as if it has physically impacted me. Except, I don't get far due to a grasp on my arm.

My heart rate picks up, as I stare down at the point of contact. It isn't a tight grasp, it's quite gentle, but it feels so firm that I wonder if he can feel the drumming of my pulse beneath my skin.

"Can you let go of me?" I say, my voice is barely above a whisper. Fuck .

The smirk that tugs at his lip leaves me feeling pathetic for sounding as submissive as I am right now.

"Watch where you're going next time, I prefer not to have face prints on my new suits." He removes the hand on my arm and dusts the front of his jacket.

The comment leaves me shivering slightly. I barely have any makeup on. Does it look that bad and cakey? I begin subconsciously running through my makeup routine, wondering if I had put on more foundation than usual. Maybe it's too much powder.

I mentally snap myself out of it, realising I'm doing it again. I'm picking myself apart, and being overly critical all because of a stupid man's words. I shove the thoughts and any remaining insecurities to the back of my head.

"Why? Are you worried that your girl of the night might be upset, Lothario?"

His jaw clenches. Bingo, guess the news articles weren't completely false. Where all his brothers try to steer clear of the public eye while with women, Ambrose however couldn't seem to give a shit. Maybe he gets a rush from seeing himself on the front cover of every news article.

"She doesn't spend too much time worrying about my suits when they are on the floor." He shrugs, returning to his indifferent stare.

Of course, he has a girl lined up for this evening. Why wouldn't he?

"Well, you better get going then." I gesture my head towards the main restaurant. It's a weak comeback, but with my bladder threatening to burst, it reminds me why I am here.

He stares at me for a bit before nodding, "Enjoy your dinner, sweetheart." He steps aside and leaves me watching him walk away with wide eyes.

Sweetheart? Disgust and annoyance boil within me at the stupid pet name. I hate pet names because Mattheo would always call me one seconds before giving me bad news or letting me down. Hoping the nickname would soften the blow of whatever he would say.

The ring on my finger feels as if it's tightening, and my jaw feels as if it's about to lock in place. My heart rate picks up dramatically and I rush into the bathroom. Hurriedly, I run my hands and wrists under cold water and I take a deep breath trying to calm myself down.

Of course, Ambrose would trigger a reaction like this in me without even knowing. I hate how Mattheo has ruined so many normal things for me. I can't even have someone call me a pet name without breaking down.

"Is everything okay?" Nat asks with worry clear on her face when I return to the table.

"Uh-huh, I'm going outside for a smoke," I say, and she nods, but doesn't make the move to say anything.

I don't smoke often, but whenever I'm incredibly stressed, the urge returns. It's a bad habit that started after I moved to Paris, and although I do it a lot less now, it still rears its ugly head every so often.

Once outside, the cold air welcomes me with open arms as it immediately cools my hot skin. It feels as if I've run a marathon with how flushed my skin is.

I walk slightly away from the main entrance, eyes shifting around anytime someone walks by, and lean against a wall. Pulling out my lighter and pack of cigarettes, I light it and breathe in the almost-forgotten taste.

"Could I borrow a lighter?" a deep voice asks, causing me to jump.

I frown hoping it isn't Ambrose, but when I look up and see an unfamiliar man, my brows furrow. I hand him the lighter and he steps to the side to light his cigarette. Behind him, in a white shirt and black slacks is Adriano. He stares at me wearily before smirking.

"Little Val, fancy seeing you here." He walks up to me.

"You two know each other?" The older man gestures between Adriano and I.

My focus shifts to him, he's easily old enough to be my father with his salt-and-pepper hair and large belly. The neat black suit he's wearing seems to be holding itself together by a thread. It's also plain in comparison to what Ambrose wears. I roll my eyes, knowing he's made his way into his thoughts again.

"Valerie, this is Diego, he's one of Vitale Holding's largest investors."

"Nice to meet you," I say, reaching out to take my lighter back, the bright pink object looking odd in his large hand.

"Pleasure's all mine." He hands it back, not before allowing his fingers to linger on mine only slightly.

"What are you doing here, Val?" Adriano asks as he moves to stand in between Diego and me.

"Dinner with a friend, but if I didn't know any better, I'd think the Vitale brothers were obsessed with me the way you always seem to pop up everywhere I am."

"Unfortunately for you, it's only one Vitale brother," he whispers so only I hear. My eyes widen at his statement, and he bursts into laughter at my reaction. "You know, I know everything, Valerie," he shrugs, lighting up his cigarette with his own lighter, and I frown at the fact that Diego had to use mine.

Speaking of Diego, he's now standing directly in front of me, watching me as I lift the cigarette to my mouth. "Surprised to see a beautiful girl like yourself smoking." He continues to observe me. "So, are you here alone, Bellissima, beautiful ?" Diego, although attractive for a man of his age, is very persistent. I know deep down I have to be somewhat respectful because of his ties to the family, but on the other hand, I don't give a flying fuck.

"No, I'm here with my friend," I repeat, smiling at him awkwardly. "I assume you're here for business?" I change the subject.

He nods, taking a drag of the cigarette, and looking at Adriano. "Yes, indeed, a small meeting over dinner."

I nod, knowing better than to ask any further questions about the actual meeting.

"Is Antonio here?" I ask Adriano.

He nods his head. "He's inside speaking with the other investors, we snuck out for a quick smoke."

"Is he going to be there for a while?"

Adriano smirks and raises both his brows shrugging. "These meetings usually go on for a while, you may just wanna see him tomorrow."

I nod and frown slightly. Aside from telling me that I start on Monday, he hasn't given me any real details about the job. I've been messaging him every day trying to get an answer, but nothing.

"Let me buy you a drink," Diego interjects, drawing my attention back to him.

A throat clears behind us. All eyes move to the figure and notice Ambrose. "Can we wrap this party up? Everyone is waiting. "

His eyes travel to the cigarette in my hand, and I watch his face twist in disgust. I drop my cigarette onto the ground and step onto it with my heel.

"Next time, duty calls," Diego says heading inside.

"Goodnight, Little Val," Adriano says, bumping my shoulder.

"You're becoming quite the distraction around here, Valerie." Ambrose's voice drops as he walks closer.

I shrug. "It isn't my fault they don't know how to stay focused."

"How do I know it isn't you provoking them? You seem to have my brother wrapped around your finger, as well."

I scoff. "And how would I be provoking them, Ambrose? Then again, even you were easily distracted before you recognised me at the funeral."

He's dangerously close, and regret floods my mind as soon as the words leave my mouth. Why would I say that? Ambrose Vitale has more important things to worry about and other girls to get distracted by.

He steps even closer. "If anyone gets easily distracted, it's you. Tell me, sweetheart, were you looking for the bathroom when you decided to become a voyeurist?"

My jaw physically drops at his accusation. "I- I wasn't… That wasn't…" I stumble over my words.

His hand juts out and he grabs both sides of my face. "That's what I thought. Stop distracting my men, you're wasting my time, and time is money, Valerie. And if you must know, I hate wasting money." His eyes bore into mine. It's a threat but the words feel like silk as they brush over my face.

I push him off me and stumble back, while he stands unaffected. "Fucking asshole," I grumble.

I can see the humour dance in his gaze and he raises his hands in front of him, revealing my pack of cigarettes. I look between his hand and my bag.

"I'll be taking these. Enjoy your dinner, sweetheart," he says, before shoving the box into his suit pocket and walking back inside .

Stupid Vitales. Stupid Ambrose. Stupid day. I bite the inside of my cheek and walk back inside. As I take my seat Natalia immediately stares at me with a look that's a mixture of worried and confused.

"Where were yo–"

"The Vitales are here, can we leave?" Annoyance rings clear in my tone, and Natalia nods, not asking another question. She calls over our waitress and asks for the bill.

She stares at us for a bit before offering an awkward smile. "I'm sorry ma'am, the bill has already been settled."

Her head swings to me and my spine stiffens. "By who?" I ask and she shifts.

Her head turns to the door and back to me. "The boss," she says plainly.

I scrape my chair back loud enough for the entire restaurant to fall silent.

Natalia's hand slams over mine. "Val, just leave it."

"No, I don't want their stupid money, at least not like this."

If there's one thing I hated in this world, it was pity. I hate people doing things for me out of pity, and right now all I can think about is how I'm going to rip Antonio's head off his body for doing this.

I grab my bag and walk towards the door that is still guarded by the two large men from earlier. As I'm walking over, I realise I have no idea what I'm going to say.

"I need to speak to Mr. Vitale," I say as politely as I can

The one barely glances down at me before shaking his head. "No can do Miss."

"But it's an emergency," I say, pushing my shoulders back further both in an attempt to appear more confident but also in the hopes my boobs can be used as bribery.

Not even a flinch. "I don't care what the reason is, we can't just let you in–"

"Listen here you overgrown chicken nuggets." I raise my voice and by the way both their eyes widen, I know I have their attention. "I need to get inside right now– "

Chicken nugget number one picks me up and tries to throw me over his shoulder but underestimates how close we both are to the door which allows me to kick against it.

Chicken nugget number two realises his error faster than I would've liked and quickly grabs my legs. I know I'm causing a scene and in all honesty, a part of me is wondering if this is even worth it, but my pride screams at me to continue.

"What?" The door flies open and Adriano appears, seeming highly irritated. His face softens instantly when he takes in the scene in front of him.

"Val?" He asks confusedly before his eyes flash between the two guards. "What is going on? Put her down," he says and the chicken nuggets oblige reluctantly.

He stands in the open doorway, completely blocking me from seeing anything inside.

I push past him and slip into the room. " Cazzo, " he whispers before both he and the security nuggets rush in.

"I don't need your fucking pity money, Antonio," I yell as I step into the room.

It feels as if ice water falls over me, and I freeze, as at least eleven pairs of eyes land on me.

Ambrose and Diego are both standing, both seemingly annoyed.

My eyes land on Antonio's and they are wide in shock. I have interrupted something big, and I want to crawl into a hole and die.