(VALENTINO'S POV)
I glare at Raffaele, and that smug grin he's wearing on his face? It's infuriating.
I can tell he's enjoying every second of this. Enjoying the attention, the tension, the way the entire VIP lounge subtly stiffens the moment he walks in. He knows every pressure point I have and he's already pressing on them without even speaking.
He slides into the seat across from me like the chair was reserved for him, then he spreads his legs and rests his back against the booth like he owns the place. He takes out a lighter, clicks it and lights a cigar. The smell of smoke fills the air.
The second our eyes meet, he immediately drops his stare to the floor, then to the ceiling, then to some random corner. Looking anywhere but at me like he's scared I'll chew him out for being the traitor that he is.
My turn back to Raffele. I tell myself I'm not giving him the satisfaction tonight of seeing me snap in front of everyone. I won't let him see me lose control.
