Anyway, when I first met you, I was constantly trying to find a stupid flaw. I mean, how could a guy be so perfect? Naturally, that thought was short-lived the minute you offered to kill me — thanks by the way, super special moment. I was lying in bed staring at that stupid scar the minute this idea hit me.
I self-consciously touched the scar behind my ear, the one given to me by my brother when he'd tried to shoot an arrow into a tree, and it had veered hard right, nearly impaling me in the back of the head.
You're going to be lonely, which is expected. I mean, let's face it. I brought a lot of loudness into your life. I forced you to take me on a crazy honeymoon, forced you to have sex with me — ha ha, just kidding. That wasn't forced, and we both know it. Aw, my little Italian lover. The point is… a lot of these things had a purpose, one I wasn't even aware of until now.
She's really pretty. I think you'll like her. She's a bit quiet — okay, so a lot quiet, more quiet than I am, but sometimes opposites attract. Her eyes are this killer hazel that I know guys have the capacity to get lost in. Her name is Valentina. Pretty name, right? Oh, stop freaking out. It's an Italian name! You should be jumping for joy!
She's scared of heights — you'll have to help her with that. Terrified of traveling out of the country — so maybe she deserves to go to the places I never had a chance to.
Can't shoot a gun to save her life. Loves romance novels — especially ones with dukes and earls. I may have bought you a costume, just in case your flirting's shit, and you can't get her to talk to you. Ha, kidding.
But seriously. You will talk to her. You will try. See, it occurred to me that I married an old man. I mean, you're going to be thirty this year. You need to settle down, have a family, stop shooting things. You get the point. And I thought… what better way to encourage you to start dating than to pick out your very first date — and hopefully if she's as amazing as I've heard from Luca all these years — your last.
Have you put the pieces together yet? Get there faster. In the pages of this black folder you'll discover some things about yourself, things you never thought possible. It seems great minds think alike.
I was meant for Dante. Care to guess who you were meant for? Valentina. Luca handpicked his own daughter to marry you. Just like he handpicked his son to marry me. Yet, things got messed up, and in that mess, Luca, bless his heart, still planned for the worst. I think that was me — my sickness — you and yours.
Because let's not pretend you weren't sick — maybe more sick than I was. But now you're better, and honestly — so am I. Remember, you promised not to cry, so stop it! I'm happy. I can kick ass without getting dizzy, and, as you're reading this, I'm most likely watching you from above, drinking wine with Luca and cheering to our amazing planning. We probably could have taken over the world someday, me and Luca.
In this folder you'll find everything you need to know about the Nicolasi dynasty. So you see… the black folder? Though it has a lot of your information in it, Luca built it. He created it to give you a path to follow. He knew you needed guidance — guidance you never got from your father. He knew you'd one day need him — and he wasn't so sure he'd be able to do that if he was dead.
Funny that the thing you were most afraid of… most disgusted with — is going to be your salvation. Then again, life is like that, isn't it?
Frank's going to ask you to go with him to find the twins. To find Luca's kids — to convince them to join the family. Go with him. Take a chance.
Smile at the girl. Don't frown. It makes you look scary. Help her. She's going to need you.
And know you have my blessing, even though I'm going to be as jealous as hell that another girl is going to experience what I got to experience. We were lovers. Best friends. Enemies. We were everything. But that doesn't have to be the end. You still have time for more story, and I'd like to think that God isn't cruel enough to give us only one soul mate. I'd like to believe he gave you two.
I love you more than you'll ever know. Thank you for making my last kiss with you, my last moment, my last laugh, my last tears feel like the first.
~Russia
Hands shaking, I placed the paper onto the table and looked down at the folder again.
The very next page had a picture of a girl.
She was laughing.
Her hair was a lush chestnut, darker on the top than the bottom, like she was growing it out. Her eyes were hazel, just as Andi described, and she was holding up her Kindle in triumph, like she'd just gotten it at as a present or maybe had just finished reading the best book of her life.
Her smile was easy.
I looked away as my heart clenched.
The next page was information about Valentina and Dante — their location and known aliases.