Page 100 of His Tesoro

Matteo’s expression darkened. “What makes you say that?”

Shit. I couldn’t have him walk into a meeting with my father ready to murder. “No reason.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” He rearranged me so I was facing him and cupped my face with both hands. “Tell me. Did he hurt you? Raise a hand against you?”

I chewed my lip. “I don’t think I should answer that.”

Fire blazed in his dark eyes. “I will kill him, Sofiya. I swear it, I will fucking end him.”

“No, you will not. You’re in an alliance with him. You need his support.”

“No one hurts you and gets away with it.”

“He hasn’t gotten away with it.” I smoothed my fingers over the lines in his furrowed brow. “I’m the one who got away. To my new, amazing life with you.”

He swallowed hard. “I won’t kill him… yet. But I swear to God, tesoro, he will pay. You’re not coming tomorrow night.”

“Yes, I am. I have to, or you’ll look weak.” If I wasn’t there, it would suggest that Matteo didn’t have control over his household.

He knew I was right because he let out a displeased sound in the back of his throat before gripping my jaw and pulling me in for a hard kiss. “I’ll protect you. I vow it. And one day I will punish him for every bit of pain he’s ever caused you.”

We stared at each other, the silence holding all the unsaid words between us—my longing, my love for him. I leaned into his chest and we stayed there, wrapped in each other, as the movie continued playing.

52

SOFIYA

My father was late.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise—it was yet another way for him to try to assert his power in every situation by subtly disrespecting Matteo, even though he needed this alliance just as much as my husband did. I didn’t know much about the Pakhan’s business dealings, but I knew he had been coveting New York trade routes for years. Leave it to my father to let his pride interfere with maintaining his own best interest.

Matteo’s hand rested on the back of my neck, his hold the only thing keeping me even remotely calm. My father couldn’t hurt me anymore. He could try, but I had people in my corner now. Angelo, Romeo, and Domenico were stationed around the restaurant, and even more men were in the back and surrounding the perimeter. The worst the Pakhan could do was humiliate me, but I trusted my husband to not pay attention to whatever vitriol my father spouted about me.

I fidgeted with my new diamond bracelet. Matching earrings swung lightly against my skin. They were beautiful, but my favorite was still the delicate locket Matteo had given me. It was warm as it rested against my neck. The jewels were armor against the Bratva women I knew would be in attendance.

Three black G-Wagons pulled up outside the restaurant, and Matteo tightened his hold on me slightly before letting go. I grabbed his hand as he stood. “Don’t do anything to ruin the alliance just for me, okay?”

A flash of fury crossed his face and he leaned down, hands resting on the sides of my wheelchair, caging me in. “Just for you, tesoro? I know you’re not implying that you wouldn’t be worth it, that you aren’t my priority. Because if you were, I would have to bend you over my knee right here.”

My cheeks heated. “No, I definitely wasn’t suggesting that.”

He pressed a kiss to my lips with a fierce scowl, straightening up as the front door swung open.

One of the Italian guards held it open, and the Pakhan entered. His sneering gaze raked over me, and I clenched my fists. He was followed by his second-in-command, Bogdan, a cruel man around my father’s age. I’d done my best to keep my distance from him my entire childhood. He was a man who loved inflicting pain on others. Following him were two of his guards I recognized as Igor and Arkadi. I could already feel myself shrinking, trying to make myself a smaller target for their ridicule.

The wives entered behind the men. My mama, wearing a pea-green satin dress with a full skirt, Bogdan’s wife Yulia, and two younger women who must be married to the guards. I thought the pretty brown-haired one might be named Liliya.

I wished Noodle was by my side. He’d been in my life for such a short time, but now I couldn’t imagine being without him. Enzo had taken him for the evening and while I missed him, I would never risk Noodle by having him close to my father. When I was six years old, I’d found a tiny kitten in a ditch by our house. I’d named her Zvezda—Star—and nursed her in my room for weeks. She’d grown strong under my care, delighting Mila and me with her little acts of mischief in our room, until the Pakhan discovered her and drowned her in front of me.

There was no fucking way Noodle was getting anywhere near him.

Matteo’s expression was relaxed and impassive as he welcomed our guests. Was I the only one who noticed the white hot rage simmering under the surface?

“Come, let’s eat,” he said, guiding everyone to the large table in the center of the restaurant. It was set beautifully with lit candlesticks, flowers, and wine.

“Sit at that end,” the Pakhan instructed my mother, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

Matteo had the seat of honor at the head of the table and guided me to the seat at his right hand.

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