Page 17 of Matteo
Nikola took my Range Rover to get back to D’Arc, my mom took Francesca and the Morrelli twins back, and Pa had a driver pick us up. He drove like a madman down the highway, following Pa’s instruction to hurry up and get home, not that I could blame him.
I fished my phone out of my pocket and groaned at the message that was time-stamped from an hour ago.
Hannah: Where are you? We’re spending the night at your parents’ place. Tonight is our perfect opportunity for
Hannah’s sister just went through an extremely traumatic experience, yet she still had nothing better to do than feed this fantasy of us she’d conjured in her head when we were kids. I thought she’d eventually outgrow it so long as I ignored her advances, but it would seem I was wrong. She’d become bolder and more confident in herself as time passed. It probably didn’t help that men were falling all over themselves for her.
Of course, I couldn’t care less about Hannah’s feminine wiles because not a fiber in my body desired her. Her charm had never worked on me and it never would. I had far more important things to do.
But I feared I’d have to tell her loud and clear that there never was and never would be anything between us. Despite the close bonds between our families.
There was only one Morrelli family member I was interested in, and she’d probably break my nose again if I tried anything with her.
Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I raised my head and met my father’s eyes. He regarded me with a proud smile on his face.
“What?” I grunted. We’d spent the past three hours going through my statement with the cops, then working with the school’s administration to switch Francesca to Yale’s online program. The safest place for her was at D’Arc. She’d be disappointed at first, but eventually she’d understand.
“You did well today, son,” he stated.
“Grazie, Papa.” I gave him a tired smile. “Nice to know you think that even though I almost got arrested.”
He waved his hand. “That would never stick. You saw the tapes. Those cops are incompetent, and they’ll sit at their desks for the remainder of their careers.”
“If the cops on the East Coast are anything like that, it’s no wonder our business is booming.”
Dad regarded me briefly, though I caught a hint of doubt on his face before he spoke up.
“Maybe, but we can’t afford their sloppiness. We’ve managed to protect our territory from human traffickers, but our position will be weakened if we lower our defenses.” My father and men like him tolerated a lot, but the trading of human flesh was off-limits. “Do you understand?”
“I do, Pa.”
I’d heard plenty of stories over the years, including one about Mom escaping her grandmother and uncle who intended to auction her off to the highest bidder. It was one thing all my friends and I had in common: we were the descendants of evil, unscrupulous people. We were the legacy of heathens.
But those particular footsteps would never be followed, not by any of us.
“I can’t help but think Nonno would have wanted me to think a bit more before I acted,” I admitted.
Pa laughed. “I’m not so sure. We’re talking about Francesca after all. He might have driven over himself and tried something.”
“I miss him,” I admitted. “He always had good advice.”
Of course it was so much more than that. I missed seeing him, hearing his stories from the good old days, and even just sitting with him in silence.
“I miss him too, son, but I’m sure he’s loving it up there with my ma and sister. He had a good run, and we have to be grateful for all the good times with him.” I nodded in acknowledgment, thinking back on all of Nonno’s wisdom. “I’m glad to see Nikola had your back,” Pa continued, cutting my reminiscence short.
“He always does.”
“Where was Santos?” I’d clicked with Gabriel Santos and Nikola the day we showed up on school grounds and were assigned the same living quarters. It mattered little that we came from different backgrounds; the three of us were inseparable. Gabriel was Raphael Santos’s little brother, who was in turn the head of the Colombian cartel. He, along with my father and their other friends, had been fighting human trafficking since before I was born, and they had managed to eliminate most of it on the East Coast.
I frowned, realizing I hadn’t heard from Gabriel all day.
“Not sure,” I admitted and fished my phone back out. I scanned the group chat and noticed he was silent there too. I typed up a quick message and pressed send.
Me: Has anyone heard from Gabriel?
Nikola was the first to answer.
Nope. That motherfucker left us hanging today. Not that there was a lot of action going on.
