Page 41 of Mafia King: Matteo
I tug my coat around me to make the long walk up the sidewalk. I’m early as usual when I open the unlocked door and step into the warm foyer. I can hear voices in the kitchen. I hang my coat on the rack and walk past the formal dining room.
The antique chandelier over my head is beautiful, but one bulb is burned out. I roll my eyes and question why I’m even surprised. At least the table is set with my grandmother’s bone china, silver utensils, and crystal glasses. There are also bottles of vodka, bourbon, and white wine. Strange, as Russians, we drink vodka. Who’s drinking the bourbon?
“Mom, Dad? What’s going on?” I ask, interrupting their conversation. They are huddled together. Mom is still wearing her apron. From the look of casseroles, side dishes, and appetizers, she’s been cooking all day. Mom rushes to greet me.
“There you are,” she says as she hugs me. A hug—after all these years?
She’s wearing a new dress, a pearl necklace, and matching earrings that dangle as she moves. Why is she dressed up? This is not a casual dinner with friends.
“Dad?” I ask as I pull away from her and find a lasagna on the counter. Dad is pouring a shot of vodka. I doubt it’s his first.
“I like your outfit,” Dad says.
This is peculiar. My father never notices me or compliments me on anything I wear.
“Thanks,” I reply, stunned. “Can you tell me who’s coming to dinner?”
“Someone special,” he says as he turns to the counter and downs a shot of vodka. I’m irritable. Just when I think this night will never end, the doorbell chimes.
“I’ll get it,” Mom exclaims, making a beeline for the front door.
I don’t even recognize my parents. I’m perplexed, but concern takes over. Oh God, I hope Kirill and I aren’t being matched. We’re friends.
What the hell is going on?
If something happened to the Don, Izzy would have told me. It must not be him, so why are they fussing so much?
I follow Mom to the door but try to hang in the shadows, but it’s difficult to hide when every damn light in the house is on! I’m eager to find out who our guest is.
Dad only jumps for the Don. And he’s paid to do that! My curiosity was piqued as the door opened, and there stood a handsome Italian with a perfect complexion and dark eyes.
I know those eyes, that face, and that muscular body under his expensive suit. My breath catches in my throat.
The man I know only as Mr. Grey. He acknowledges my mother and glances in my direction as if he knows I’ll be here.
Fuck.
He’s noticed me already. It’s as if our bodies seek each other out without us being cognizant of it.
His presence turns me on.
I casually wipe my sweaty palms on my outfit before I step out of the shadows and confidently walk toward him.
He shakes my father’s hand, but his eyes remain transfixed on mine.
“You must be Alena,” he says with an air of confidence that I find polite, if somewhat condescending. He knows damn well who I am.
It wouldn’t be difficult for him to use his contacts to track me down. It dawns on me that all of our sexual encounters were meticulously planned. How did he know I’d be at the sex club that night?
I’ve been manipulated and deceived. Or was I just lost in the allure of his colossal cock and a thirst to have my sexual needs satiated?
He’s used the information he gained to his advantage.
Shit, Dima said the Borrelli’s are connected. Am I being married off to the Italian? He said they are mobbed up, and holy fuck, I work in his hotel. Dad was furious when he discovered the news. Something is going on, and I want to know what it is. I thought I had a clear understanding of my world and my future. How is it that I’m the last to know Mr. Borrelli has entered our lives?
I should have learned the ruthlessness of others from that business class, where the girls manipulated the class events to make themselves look superior.
But what is Matteo gaining through his connection to my father? Is it a business deal? What could be their reason for becoming so chummy overnight? He’s never mentioned the Italians except for the older retired ones he runs into at the liquor store. They are harmless, but he believes they talk behind his back.
