Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 48585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
“I wasn’t sure how I would handle all of this at first,” she says, speaking freely as we finish our dinner. “I worried that your protective instincts that you’ve shown over me might make me feel stifled, like I did with Leonardo. But I’ve realized that instead of feeling controlled or diminished, I feel as if I have growing agency with you. I feel more like you, and I are a balanced partnership, as if we both see each other as equals.”
“Of course, I see you as an equal,” I agree immediately. “Valentina, I would never try to control you. Only a weak and pathetic man feels the need to assert his power over a woman, and I respect you too much to want your possibilities diminished by anyone, including myself.”
Her smile shines brighter than all the lit candles in response to my words.
“I was afraid to be vulnerable with anyone, to embrace the idea of love,” she continues. “But being with you has made me feel like I can be an active participant in my destiny, not be controlled or contained. You see me, just like you did when we first met.”
“I’ve always seen you for what you are,” I say as we sit together beneath the flickering candlelight, as the sky outside grows darker. “I see you as a woman with limitless potential. Kind, smart, brave, and exceptionally lovely. I'm committed to protecting you, Valentina, as I always have been, even when I haven’t been right by your side. But I will never seek to dominate you. I understand all too well what it feels like to feel powerless.”
“You?” she asks, as if my remark surprises her. “But you’re in a position of power as a consigliere to one of the most powerful mafia families in Las Vegas. You’re highly skilled and respected.”
“That might all be true,” I say with a heavy sigh. “But there are things you don’t know about me, things that no one does.”
“Like what?” Her raw and innocent question prompts me to do something I hadn’t expected to—to confront my envy and need for control over my life. Just as I’ve tried to help push Valentina to claim her own power, I suddenly find myself in a position to confront my own flaws, and reveal something to her I’ve kept close to my chest this whole time. I shift in my seat, smoothing my palm down the front of my suit. I hesitate for a moment before revealing the secret that I’m not so sure I want to keep any longer.
“Would you think less of me if I told you I might not be as honorable as you think?” I say carefully.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I have been struggling with something for a long time—with a deep envy toward my cousin’s dominance over the Moretti legacy. Vincent is Don, and I’m his consigliere, and yet I have to succumb to all of the family pressures with none of the power and glory that comes with the title that he has.”
“I don’t think that feeling envious makes you any less honorable,” she says graciously.
“Perhaps not, but my jealousy isn’t just a feeling. I’ve acted on it as well. Although now I’m not so sure I want to go through with it.”
“What did you do?” she asks.
“Shortly after Vincent took Isla to Italy, I started a rumor, a rumor that I placed into the ears of everyone who would spread it. The rumor talked of a new Don coming to Vegas, one that planned on taking over the city and ousting Vincent’s power over it.” I explain as I fess up the truth to her, hoping that she won’t think less of me for it. “Then, I pretended to deliver news of the rumor to Vincent, telling him that The Saint was coming to Las Vegas. I played it up until the fictional character of the rumors I created took on a life of its own, one that had everyone conflating whispers about this new Don. But the truth is—”
I pause for a moment before I speak words I won’t be able to take back. “The truth, Valentina, is that I am the Saint, and that I was planning on taking over.”
Instead of looking at me with disgust or disappointment, her eyes soften, and she reaches her hand out to set against my lap.
“But you didn’t do it,” she says. “And from how you sound right now, it appears you no longer want to do it.”
She’s not wrong. In truth, I regret it. Having Valentina back in my arms has made the need for power, which once plagued and then consumed me, seem much less appealing. If I were to go through with it, I would have the title of Don, but less time to be with her. I have more agency without that burdensome position of authority.