Page 172 of Phantom Mine

Enzo shakes his head. “You can’t give this up, Matteo. I won’t let you,” he rages through clenched teeth. “I was there every day of those ten years, remember? I was there, watching you bleed for this. You’ll regret giving it up.”

Only Enzo would fight being handed the keys to an entire kingdom. Only he would try to shove it back into my hands.

That’s why only he deserves it.

“I won’t.” I shake my head slowly. “I won’t regret it, Enzo. Do you know how I know? Because the only thing I felt when I walked away just now was excitement at finding Valentina and annoyance that I can’t just snap my fingers and teleport to her side.” Enzo’s features shift at the changing expressionon my face. “But when she told me she was engaged? When I realized that she might be taken from me, that I might have lost her because I waited too long? That’s a kind of devastation I wouldn’t have come back from,cugino.”

There’s a confusion in his eyes that’s understandable. If the roles were reversed, if I hadn’t lived through the last four months with Valentina, I wouldn’t get it either.

“TheFamigliais the only thing you’ve ever wanted,” he argues.

“It used to be,” I agree.

He pushes off me with a sigh. With one final attempt, he says, “This is yourlife, Matteo.”

“My life has no meaning if she’s not in it.” I clap his shoulder again, trying my best to make him understand. “I realize I was wrong about what real revenge looks like. It wasn’t taking over theFamiglia. It wasn’t destroying my brother and father. It was being happy.That’show I win. And she makes me happier than I’ve ever been.”

Enzo looks ready to argue, so I cut him off before he can.

“I don’t need it,cugino. My heart isn’t in it anymore. It’s with her. She’s more important. It’s your turn in the light now and my turn to support you.” I take off an imaginary crown and drop it on his head. “It’s yours, Enzo.” Then with a laugh, I add, “Try to keep it longer than I did.”

I’m halfway down the hall when I realize I forgot something.

“Oh, one last thing.” I walk back up to him and smack a wad of bills in his open palm. Enzo stares down at it then back at me. “Fifty grand. You were right,” I grin, clapping his shoulder. “But you already knew that.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

Valentina

Nerves twist my belly into heavy knots. I try sitting in one of the pews but I’m back on my feet in seconds, antsy and beyond anxious. A cursory glance at my phone tells me that it’s twenty minutes past the time we were supposed to meet, and Matteo’s still not here.

I’m standing in the middle of All Saints Margaret Street church, both dwarfed and awed by the almost overwhelming height of the church’s vaulted Victorian Gothic ceiling. Matteo isn’t overly religious so I’m surprised he asked me to meet him here. I checked the address three times to make sure I came to the right place, but this is it.

The church is beautiful. It feels both grand and somehow intimate, every detail intentional and creating a warmth that’s at odds with the vastness of the space. The ornate carving of the pews, the stained glass windows depicting scenes of love and worship, and the hundreds of once flickering candlesall combine to make me feel small standing in reverence of something far more significant.

The candles had to go though. I spent the first ten minutes of my waiting time running around the entire church, blowing them out one at a time, making sure I didn’t miss a single one.

As I continue waiting for Matteo, I wonder if he’ll make me feel foolish for that small act of consideration.

Twenty minutes stretch to thirty.

Maybe he isn’t going to come. Maybe this is finally it.

Our story started with him asking me to meet him and me not showing. Maybe it ends with the roles being reversed.

There have been enough misunderstandings and obstacles and lies between us to wonder if fate is simply against us. Maybe we’re fighting for a relationship that truly isn’t meant to survive.

I choose to ignore those thoughts and to believe in him. He walked into my brother’s office, into a rival Underworld leader’s headquarters, unarmed and unprotected, and put his life on the line for me.

The least I can do is wait, even if the anxiety and doubt are eating me alive.

I make my way down to the altar. It’s the star of the show, standing elevated over the rows of pews and draped in swaths of rich fabric. Soft, colorful light filters through the stained glass windows and casts beautiful pictures onto the walls and stone floor. I tilt my head back and, for just a moment, let myself take in the splendor of this historic place.

Turning away, I suck a surprised breath abruptly into my lungs.

Matteo is coming down the extended aisle towards me, his strides long and confident. He’s staring at me like I’m the most fascinating, exquisite thing he’s ever seen when I’m easily outshined by the thousand year old art that surrounds us.

My pulse beats an uncertain rhythm in my throat. I’m unsure of where to place myself, of what to say, but there’s hope flickering to life in my chest. And behind it, my heart is like a caged bird whose wings flap a thousand beats per second, every single one of those desperate flutters for the man who comes to a stop five meters away from me.

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