Page 56 of Broken Prince

I nodded, turning around and walking away in a silent invitation to follow me to the office.

“Want a drink?” I asked as I helped myself to a glass of scotch. Never mind Cassie’s instructions, it was mandatory for the conversation that was going to happen.

He shook his head and took a seat without invitation. I had offered him a drink by politeness—Matteo rarely drank in public.

“So…” He threw a bored look at his surroundings. “You…the broken Mafia prince, hiding in his mansion in the middle of nowhere.” He gestured at my long hair and beard. “Becoming a savage…”

I snorted. “Is that what they call me? Broken Prince?”

“I think it is quite fitting actually. You’re a petulant child who just ran away from his responsibility because he got hurt.”

I gritted my teeth so hard I was surprised they didn’t shatter. How could he understand? That man was a psychopath.

“I wanted to give up my place; my father agreed.”

“And I refused,” he added as if it was okay that he decided for me. He had the power to, and it still didn’t make it right.

“But you said you would leave me be.”

He nodded. “I did but I believe I’ve been more than patient. Now you are ordering flowers, sending your consigliere to famiglia meetings.”

“Dom is not my cons—”

“Did you think that asking favors from the federal court would not come back to me? Please, Gianluca, you’re not that stupid.”

“I was collecting a debt.”

“So you were,” He twisted the signet ring he wore on his right ring finger. The ring was engraved with the Trinacria symbol, a rare ring, one that was given to you as a symbol of your authority. Matteo Genovese was the only one allowed to wear this in the US; he was our boss—our commander, judge, and executioner. He had been sent here when he was only fifteen to rule over us all. He was our capo dei capi and he ruled over us with an iron fist.

One that was both feared and revered… The problem with me, the thing that aggravated him more than anything, was that I had nothing left to lose anymore, no real pressure point.

I looked up to the closed door to my office. At least I used to. For two years that man had lost his power over me, but he had it back and he clearly knew it.

He reached inside his jacket pocket and I tensed. He could still decide I was not worth the trouble and shoot me in the head.

He retrieved a long black velvet box. “Since I was coming, I picked this up from Lucia Jewelry. It’s a lovely custom-made piece…diamond…platinum…$14k, was it? What a thoughtful gesture for someone you don’t particularly care about.”

I narrowed my eyes into slits, that fucker had known everything before even stepping a foot in this house. “Who do you own?”

He laughed. “All of them.” He shook his head. “Did you think I would have just let you walk away and grieve in your corner without direct eyes on you? Well…” He shook his head. “I should say all but your consigliere… That one is annoyingly faithful.”

“He is not my consigliere and I’m not the capo—”

Matteo slammed his hand on the desk. “Enough!” he bellowed.

I stopped, startled. Matteo was the calm angry type. I’d seen the man slit a traitor’s throat and wipe the knife on the guy's shirt with the same bored look on his face as when he was attending church.

“I could make your life very,verydifficult, Gianluca. Do. Not. Test. Me,” he snapped coldly, and if I knew anything about Matteo, it was that he never made empty threats. “But I could also make it so much easier.”

I leaned back on my seat. “Easier?”

“You know what I did for you when you were fourteen—what I got you.”

I stiffened; that was a secret I didn’t want out. “That is long gone, Matteo, and I’ve repaid you tenfold.”

He nodded. “Yes, you did, but I still didn't have to agree to it. It was risky then. I was brand new but I took your side.”

“Not for free,” I reminded him. “What’s your point with this?”

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