Luciano did not return to the hall. From interconnected doors, he made his way into the hallways of Neravalle.
Fury radiated through his wrinkled, veined face, as he trod through the pathways in haste.
Salvatore, who had spotted him, broke into a run to catch up with him.
When he eventually did, he went straight to the point without wasting even a second.
"Carpo, Vitto is ensuring the guests leave the city safely. But the ones you gave your approval on, have been shown to their hotel rooms in the city. Lyon and the rest of the security personnel are ensuring the lord’s, ladies and their entourage leaves the city," he divulged, half out of breath, and half in a rush.
"What else?" He asked, never stopping or slowing down.
"Signor Giovanni and his wife are in the lounge with Daniela. He insists on seeing you."
Luciano hissed through his teeth, but kept it moving.
"I’ll see him if I make it out of the empty room alive."
Salvatore’s eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about, carpo?"
"Where is Valentina?" He asked the very first question he had wanted to ask, but unfortunately had to save it for last.
Elio managed to slip her out of the hall, before Ross’ boys could stop him.
"Good. Bring her to the empty room imdiately," he ordered.
"Sicarpo."
Luciano ca to an abrupt halt that Salvatore did not expect.
When he didn’t hear any footsteps, he turned back to see Luciano had stopped walking.
"Salva?"
"Carpo?"
"Give your gun."
His heart sumrsaulted, and for the first ti that night, Salvatore was really concerned about the darkness he saw in Luciano’s eyes.
"M-my gun?" He stuttered.
"Salva, give your gun," Luciano repeated, slower but with more intensity this ti.
There was no more room to argue, and Salvatore knew this..
He reached into his pocket, and pulled out the gun.
Luciano snatched it out of his hand. "Bring Valentina to now!" He commanded, as he walked away.
Salvatore watched him leave, and muttered under his breath. "God help the girl."
The mont Luciano arrived at the doors of the empty room, he dismissed the guards imdiately.
"No one cos within the entire periters of this floor. Understood?"
He has already shut the door behind him even before they got their answers out.
The room inside was bare to say the least. No windows, a single bulb dangling from the ceiling, projecting dim yellow light, and one long table with two chairs facing each other.
Luciano dropped the gun on the table, took off his jacket, and began rolling his sleeve the mont he walked in.
He sat down on one of the chairs when he was done, and waited.
It wasn’t for too long, as a few minutes later, he heard voices outside.
The door opened, and soone walked in.
"Valentina," he called in his mind. Perceiving her scent even before she took a step forward.
"You’d think this day has not been annoying enough. What is this ro–" the door shut behind her, and Valentina jolted a little. "The fuck! Elio?!" She scread out his na, but her voice echoed back to her.
"Fucking hell," she muttered under her breath, as she turned towards the table.
The mont her eyes fell on the still shadow on the chair, she inhaled sharply.
"Of course it’s him," she muttered under her breath as she approached the table in haste.
It was the only place with enough light for her not to be triggered. Albeit, dim yellow light.
"What is this Luciano?" She questioned the mont she arrived at the table.
Slowly, he lifted his head to face her.
Her head jerked when she saw his eyes. Dark, unreadable.
He slid the gun across the table towards her. "Pick it up," he said through a low, lethal voice.
Valentina’s eyes went to the gun. "Why would I want that?" She asked, trying to make sense of the situation.
"You want your freedom right? You want to marry Ross Voltron and destroy , right? You believe that my father killed your parents in cold blood, and vengeance for that is my death, right? Well you have your answer there. Pick up the gun, and shoot . Then you’ll be free."
Her breath caught, but he didn’t budge. He was steady, and calm like a man well prepared for the outco of everything.
Valentina drew closer to the gun, her heels the only sound projected, as it scrapped across concrete.
Carefully, she picked up the gun. It felt surprisingly light in her smaller hand.
Luciano watched her every movent. He saw her walk around with the gun in her hand, and then he felt her stop behind him.
Valentina waited for his reaction. Recoil or tension. Any sign that he was afraid of this madness he had pushed her into.
Nothing shone through, other than his obvious pride.
She lifted the gun and pressed the muzzle to the back of his head.
"You confuse a lot, Luciano," she began with a soft, conversational tone. "First you have arrested, then you tell I’m dead to you, then you invite to your engagent party as bait. You really confuse ."
Luciano noticed she didn’t ntion the restroom scene.
"Coward," he thought, as he sat still.
"Do you want to know an interesting fact about ? The first mory I have of touching a gun was my tenth birthday. Big Ben, as Nana called him, gifted the gun."
Luciano’s jaw flexed, as he felt her drag the gun across his head, tracing through his scalp.
"Big Ben was my father’s right hand man, according to him and Nana. After my parents death, he was the one that saved my life. I an with the help of Nana of course. He brought to the castle. He made feel like a princess, because allegedly, it was how my father treated . Not like I rember. There are holes in my earliest mory, Luciano. That explains the flash of headaches I get, by the way." She paused to catch her breath.
Luciano remained still, content with listening to her talk.
He was learning far more than he expected, and although his fury remained, he was slightly intrigued by the description of her childhood.
"From that day henceforth–my birthday I an, I would wake up at dawn to practice with my gun. It was Big Ben’s way of ensuring that even after he left the world, I could take care of myself. I’d practice for an hour, and then go in to continue with my education. Online classes and stuff like that."
Valentina’s hands went to the trigger, and the safety ca off.
Luciano’s breath faltered at the sound, but he composed himself almost imdiately.
She smiled, enjoying all of this more than she expected.
Slowly, with the gun still pressed against his head, she leaned into his ears, and whispered.
"Do you want to paint a vivid picture of what happens when a bullet goes through one’s skull from this angle?"
Luciano held it together, despite being caught between her soft breath on his skin, and the gun that was without its safety now, pressed against his head.
"I read it in an anatomy book. Since you want to shoot you, then you should know," she declared, drunk in the power that ca with having this powerful man’s life in her hands.
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