The Wrong Type of Seduction

47 Val’s Dinner Date

ORIGINAL CONTENT OF D.C. BLU. DO NOT COPY AND/OR REDISTRIBUTE WITHOUT THE AUTHOR’S PERMISSION. PLAGIARISM IS CRUEL. PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL.

47: Val’s Dinner Date

Two days had passed in a blurr as Val mentally prepared herself for her meeting. She picked a seafood restaurant uptown in the nicest part of the city knowing how Domenic loved to go to the best places money could buy.

Why she was trying to please the SOB, she didn’t know. Was the wife she had been, trying to come out? She hoped not.

Give yourself time,” Her friend Pam once told her. “You were young and naive when you married, in a way, that shaped you and molded your way of thinking. Give it time to let a new way of thinking set in.” Val was so grateful for those words of wisdom.

She walked into the restaurant wearing her most conservative business suit and low heels. The maître d’ seated her at the reserved table and she looked over the menu as she waited for his highness. The man had a tendency to always be fashionably late to everything. So she wasn’t surprised he arrived ten minutes after their appointed time, while she had been five minutes early.

“Val!” He greeted her coming to her side to lean down for a kiss.

She carefully moved her head away.

He stilled but smiled and went to sit down looking around to see who was looking at him. Image was everything to Domenic.

“Let us not embarrass ourselves, sweetheart.” He ordered, thick accent twirling around every word.

“Then don’t touch me,” she said smiling at the waitress that came and took their order. The young woman smiled sweetly at Val and batted her lashes at Domenic. Maybe Val would get lucky and he’d flirt with the waitress and take her home.

“How can I not touch you? Look at you, you’re more beautiful than I remember.”

“How could you remember when you never looked at me unless you were just trying to have sex? And you only cared about my face then when you wanted head. Can you bring me number seven on the wine list?” She told the waitress who blushed slightly, eyes wide before she departed.

“Val, that is not appropriate language-“

“Are you here to discuss a divorce?” She asked setting her elbows on the table and leaning her chin on her bent wrists watching that jaw of his harden.

“You don’t divorce from the family.”

“Is that why you tried to kill me? Wouldn’t it have been easier to put a bullet in my head?”

Domenic rotated his head on his neck uncomfortably. “Val, let us focus on the future.”

“I have. And yet here my past sits. So past, what do you want?”

“I want you, my love, my-“

“I’m nothing to you.”

“Think. Carefully.” His voice grew dark. “We are still married. You are still a part of the family.”

She was expecting that. “And they thought I was dead…why?”

He cleared his throat. “Misinformation on your part.”

“So it’s my fault?” She asked wanting to scream.

“Val…” He looked around and scooted closer to the table. “Come home. The family can over look a slight indiscretion. But they will not tolerate certain actions.”

She laughed. “They tolerated your indiscretions for years. Mine are trivial.”

“So you prefer a nineteen-year-old boy to a grown man?” He laughed harshly.

“I believe you were younger when we married.”

“As were you, but look at you now. You can’t honestly be happy with him.”

Val just continued to smile even as her finger itched to pick up the fork and take out his eyes. “I am.” She answered simply.

He grew quiet eyes narrow with anger. Val accepted her wine and ordered snapper when the waitress came again. They sat quietly for a long time, Val watched as Domenic pulled himself together, keeping his temper tame. She knew what it took to anger him, which wasn’t much. When she lived under his rule, she avoided it to keep him from hurling insults and humiliating her. Now, she wanted him to be pissed, wanted the world to see his true nature.

When the food came, he finally said, “If you want me to apologize I will.”

“Apologize? You know how?” She asked, truly curious like he was some new breed of animal.

“Just tell me what you want.” He snapped.

“I want you to go away,” Val sang seductively, taking a sip of her wine.

Domenic chuckled bitterly and nodded. “Very well. Good night.” He stood, buttoned his suit jacket and walked out, leaving her alone.

Too easy. Too, too easy. Val sat quietly enjoying her meal alone. Maybe he thought to embarrass her walking out like that, but Val was used to eating her meals alone. Enjoying her own company. There was something soul searching about just letting the silence fill her.

After her second glass of wine, and finishing up half of her food, she paid for both meals and left. She was outside the restaurant, about to hail a cab when she noticed a man in a suit standing waiting right by the entrance. She knew the guard as one of Domenic’s. But he wasn’t one she could say she liked.

“Mr. Ricci asks that you take this as a peace offering.” He bowed his head holding out a box of chocolate.

“No,” she said when a cab pulled to a curb. “Tell Mr. Ricci, I’m not interested. Period.”

“He has expressed his concern for your well being if you should refuse.”

“If he wants to kill me, fine.”

“You are not the only one who could be affected.”

She turned to the guard. “And you remind him that Matt belongs to Walthour. He may not want to cross that line. And if he so much as touches the hair on anyone’s head that I know, I’ll have you all eliminated one by one.”

He stiffened because he knew she once commanded Domenic’s assassins. What he didn’t know, like almost everyone but Domenic, was that she was an assassin.

She got into the cab wishing that would be the end of it, but she knew Domenic’s greatest weakness. He couldn’t let anything go. Especially an insult.

It took ten minutes to get to her hotel. While she rode the elevator up, she peeled off her suit jacket to breath. The walls seemed to close in on her for some reason. Once out of the elevator and on her floor, she pulled off her heels and walked barefoot to her door as flashes of that night echoed in her head. The cold. The pain. The blood. The bitter words. “You’re nothing but a whore! I should’ve never married you but your father begged. Begged! Pathetic…”

Taking a deep breath, calming her shaking hands, she stuck the key card in the door and then entered. As soon as the door closed, she began stripping off the rest of her clothing making her way to the couch.

Collapsing on the cushions, she buried her head in the surface and screamed.

“Was it that bad?”

Val jerked upright and stared wide eyes at Matt who was coming from her bedroom, wiping his eyes as if he just woke up.

“How did you get in?” She asked alarmed and yet excited to see him.

He rubbed a hand over his cropped hair and smiled that wickedly cute expression. “I flashed the lady at the front desk my smile and offered her tickets to my next show. And what do you know, here I am.”

“Why? What are you doing here?” She grabbed her shirt from the floor and draped it over her head before threading her arms in the cloth.

“I couldn’t wait to get the juicy details of your secret rendezvous. And I got anxious thinking I might have to fight him if he dragged you back. That and I know how much you loathe him, so maybe you might need an ear.”

“I said I would call.”

“I’m impatient as hell when it comes to you.” He shrugged. “So? How’d it go?”

She was just so damn happy to see him she didn’t want to ruin it with details about their meeting. “We talked?”

“And?”

“He’s still a motherfucker.”

“And?”

She shook her head not wanting to rehash it. No, she wanted to bury her head in Matt’s chest and inhale his scent.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked, shoulder’s drooping.

She patted the seat down next to her. Matt quickly rushed to it, nearly flopping down, hugging her.

She laughed as he rolled them so that he was on his back holding her close.

They tangled there, getting comfortable before Matt began planting kisses on her face. And she inhaled that comforting scent of strength and fresh soap. “You smell like hotel soap.” She grinned. “Did you shower here?”

“Maybe.” He snuggled her. “I didn’t want to smell like sweaty man boy who ran desperately for five blocks to make sure he got here before the woman of his dreams arrived.”

Her smile died as she looked up at him. “Matt, Domenic is dangerous. I don’t want you hurt. You need to leave. You need to stay away were it’s safe.” She was about to pull away, but he held her tighter.

“No.” He kissed her. “I only plan to get closer and closer until you can’t stand me.” His lips feathered over hers. “And I plan to make sure you become obsessed with me. I want you to be as possessive of me as I am of you. And if you run, I’ll find you Val. Even if it takes years. I won’t give up.”

“You barely know me, Matt.”

“Then tell me more, Val. Please, I’m starving for knowledge. Starving for anything you can give me. I already know that bastard Domenic doesn’t deserve you. I know that you’re sexy and extremely independent. Devious. Smart. Did I mention sexy? Beautiful. Sexy. Nice ass.” His hands gripped said ass making her laugh. “I know you’re tough, a survivor. Sexy. You are kind and caring even when you try to be hard and emotionless. What else is there, tell me?”

She closed her eyes and just lay on him, loving the beat of his heart, the strength of his arms. He really was the sweetest guy in the world, and she didn’t want to taint that. Her life wasn’t for nice people.

She didn’t know when she fell asleep, but she woke to a light shaking.

“Val?”

She opened her eyes in shock. How long had she slept? She looked up into a face that smiled at her wearily.

“Oh, sorry, do you need to leave?” She asked moving to get off him.

“No, I want you to be more comfortable. Let’s go to bed.”

She nodded and mindlessly let him undress her. He took her to the bedroom and they cuddled in close. She fell asleep with him kissing her neck and her wishing she didn’t care for him so much.

ORIGINAL CONTENT OF D.C. BLU. DO NOT COPY AND/OR REDISTRIBUTE WITHOUT THE AUTHOR’S PERMISSION. PLAGIARISM IS CRUEL. PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL.

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