Chapter 1

Matteo

The man in front of me is a gibbering, sniveling wreck. He should be. This piece of shit touched what is mine.

“You want me to cut his hands off, boss?” Silvio asks.

“No. Just his pinky finger. If he goes near her again, he’ll lose more.”

The man starts to cry. Cry, for fucks sake. It’s only a fucking finger.

“If you keep this up, I’ll change my mind and cut off something far more valuable,” I mutter. “Stop sniveling like a kid; you’re being annoying.”

“I didn’t know she was your girl,” he says.

Girl. She’s not a girl. Renata Andretti is all woman.

She’s also technically not mine, as in she doesn’t know she belongs to me. The facts don’t change, though, just because she’s unaware that she’s tied to me.

I leave Silvio to do the dirty work and head out of the basement and up the stairs of the Mancini mansion. The place is different now to the last time Renata was here.

She hasn't stepped foot in this house since my eighteenth birthday. Then it was full of glitz and gold. Now, it’s modern, airy, and spacious. All clean lines and elegant design. I paid a fuck ton of money to have the gold ripped out.

My father and his brother, Aldo, had the worst taste. Since I took over as boss of the organization, Clifford now the underboss, we’ve changed a lot.

Clifford wasn’t close to his father, Aldo, because the patriarch was old school, and Clifford likes men. His father would never accept that, so he never really got to be close to his son. Clifford might like men, but he’s the hardest, most ruthless fucker I’ve ever come across. So long as he’s happy to put the fear of God into our enemies, I don’t care where he sticks his dick.

As for me, my father forced me to marry a woman I never wanted. Francesca DeLuca. It was a marriage of convenience, nothing more. I had my women on the side, and she had her platinum credit card, and we were both content enough.

I glance at the picture of her on the hallway table. I don’t think about her often. Is that fucked up? I lived with her for years, and she died right here in this house, and yet, I go days without casting a glance at her picture. Is she up in heaven right now looking down on me and judging me? If she is, I doubt she judges me as I’m no different than her. She married me for the kudos and not much else.

Voices drift to me from the large living room, so I head that way. Inside are Clifford and his right hand man, Vlad. Vlad isn’t Italian, obviously, but he’s deranged and violent and does what we tell him to. He fits right in. To Clifford, he’s like family. Sometimes, I wonder if they’ve fucked, but Vlad has a girl, so I guess not. It’s just that Clifford sometimes looks at Vlad like he wants to eat him for dessert.

“Cousin,” Clifford says in his deep voice.

I nod at him.

“Who is being interrogated? Is it to do with the missing shipment?” He takes a box out of his pocket and pulls a gold tooth pick out of it, then goes to work on one of his back teeth.

I look away in distaste. “No. It’s not business at all.”

“Oh?” He clicks the box shut, and I look at him to catch the deep furrow between his brows.

“No. He touched something that is mine.”

“But not a business something? I didn’t know you had a personal something.”

I shrug. “I don’t exactly have her yet, but I will.”

“Who?” His brow cocks in suspicion.

I might as well tell him. If my plans go accordingly, she’ll be living in this house sooner rather than later. “Renata Andretti.”

“Andretti? You want an Andretti bitch to be all up in our business?” He barks out a laugh. “Fuck you, cuz; who is she really?”

I sigh and head to the bar in the corner of the room and pour myself a drink. I hold the bottle up to Clifford, but he shakes his head.

Taking a seat on the sofa, I let the glass dangle from my fingertips as I watch the amber liquid swirling inside. “I don’t have anything to say about your personal life, do I?” I ask him pointedly. “I’d like the same courtesy.”