Page 26 of His Tesoro

Our mother had the worst fashion sense of anyone I’d ever met. We couldn’t figure out if her outlandish outfits were some sort of statement, a small rebellion against the Pakhan, or if she legitimately thought they looked good.

“Love you. Stay safe,” I said.

“Love you, too.”

The quiet in the kitchen weighed on me after hanging up. I found a music app and chose a random pop playlist. Upbeat notes started playing through the speaker. Mila and I had always been careful not to make a lot of noise. It was safer to be quiet and fly under the radar. Even though the song was playing softly, it still sent a thrill of fear and excitement through me to be making noise, taking up space.

The oven timer went off, and I pulled out the first batch of cookies and sprinkled sea salt on top of them. I put the next batch in and then pulled up a browser on my phone to search for Italian recipes. I was determined to make dinner a success.

15

MATTEO

Giuseppe caught my eye the moment I entered the Star lobby. He was slightly out of breath when he met me at the private elevator. The short, stocky Star manager wore a blue and white pinstripe suit today. Absurd attire for a Made Man, as was his cheerful smile.

“Good evening, Boss.”

I gave him a curt nod.

“Your usual, or something new?”

“Surprise me.” I tapped my fingers against my leg, impatient as I waited for the fucking elevator. It finally dinged.

“Very good. I’ll send her up right away,” Giuseppe said. “And, might I say, congratulations on your new bride.”

I clenched my jaw, but the doors closed, saving me from responding.

I adjusted my sleeves. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I had every right to be here, to do what I wanted. But the strange, tight feeling in my stomach didn’t go away as I entered my private penthouse suite.

I poured myself a glass of whiskey and looked out at my city. The city I’d bled and killed for. Nothing could be more important than the Family. I might have thought something different when I was young, but that Matteo had been killed alongside my parents.

I turned around as the door opened and a woman entered. She was tall, her black dress highlighting her long legs, and blonde. I took another drink. Giuseppe usually sent up dark-haired Italian women. Was this a coincidence, or was he trying to find someone reminiscent of my wife?

Except this woman was nothing like Sofiya. Her lips were painted red, her expression confident and sultry as she approached me.

“They told me you were handsome,” she said, stopping so close in front of me her large tits brushed against my chest. “But handsome doesn’t cut it.” She trailed her fingers down my jaw.

My wedding band weighed heavily on my finger.

My father had been loyal to my mamma. He always said, “The Family’s life revolves around the Don. The Don’s life must revolve around his wife.” It was no secret he’d allowed mamma to have an opinion on Family matters. She’d even convinced him to ban the skin trade in our territory, an unpopular decision that lost a few of the capos a significant amount of money. My father had also come down hard on husbands who abused their wives. His actions stirred dissension in the ranks from men who felt they had the right to do whatever they liked in their own homes. My uncle capitalized on that dissension to gain power.

My father’s devotion to my mamma had destroyed them.

Almost destroyed Sienna and me.

But now, faced with the opportunity to cheat on my wife, I found I couldn’t do it. My cock was soft, my skin crawling with discomfort. My father was the man I’d admired most in the world—steady, strong, and loving in his own way. It was a hard thing for a Made Man to raise his heir because he could never fully be a father—he would always be Don to his firstborn child. But my papà had been a husband first, above all else.

My hand reached out and seized the woman’s wrist, pulling her off me. “Get out.” My voice was harsh, but I didn’t care. Her touch felt like poison.

Her eyes widened. “Sir?”

I released her wrist, and she stumbled back a few steps. “Get. Out,” I repeated.

She turned on her heel and rushed out of the room.

My hands shook as I downed the last of the liquor. What the fuck was wrong with me? Why did I have some misplaced sense of loyalty to a woman I didn’t even know just because I had signed a sheet of paper?

“Fuck!”

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