Page 48 of Mafia King: Matteo
I love having resources at my fingertips. Matteo thinks he has won and will underestimate me, not that he has what he wants. I’m embarrassed that he’s been pulling the strings of influential players behind my back.
“I want to know where he lives, who he meets, what his penthouse is like, and anything else you can obtain. I also want to know what women he hangs out with and who he takes as a lover.”
“Got it.”
He’s made a fool of me once. It won’t happen again.
Dima rolls to a stop in my parking garage.
Armed with my new attitude, I bid him goodnight. “Happy hunting,” I say, void of emotion.
I’m expecting updates by morning. If Matteo thinks I’m taking this lying down, he doesn’t know who he’s marrying.
I texted Izzy to confirm she was awake. She pings me back, so I pick up my phone and call her.
“How are you?” I ask. It’s easy for me to get caught up in my life and ask her about herself as an afterthought. Tonight, my news can wait. What do I say? Is my loyalty to my friend or my father?
I would probably tell her if the secret involved Izzy herself. But since this doesn’t affect her well-being, I decided to honor my father’s wishes until I know more. I can’t put my father’s head on the chopping block.
“Everything here is fine,” she says. “The baby is getting big. We’re trying to pick a name for her. Dmitry is out of town for a few days. We should meet up.”
“I’d love to. Maybe we can meet for lunch this week.”
“Great. How is your job? Did you ever think you’d be gainfully employed?”
“Funny thing about that job…”
“What, were you fired?”
“No, worse.”
“What could be worse than that?” Izzy’s voice conveys her curiosity.
“Remember how I thought the interview was too easy?”
“Yes, that was weird. You didn’t even do a drug test, and they hired you on the spot.” She pauses, then adds, “That never happens.”
“What if I told you my boss happens to be my new fiancé?”
“What? I don’t follow,” she says, confused.
“My mystery man is Matteo Borrelli, as in the don of the Borrelli Empire—from Sicily. He had to have known who I was and planned our hookups.” I snap my fingers. “Damn. It makes sense now.”
“What makes sense?”
“Remember my first day at work?”
“The elevator ride?”
“He just showed up, stopped the elevator, and we did it there.”
“That’s a bit kinky,” she says. “Were you afraid of getting caught?”
“That’s half the thrill, and he stopped the elevator. But I’ve discovered he owns the hotel.”
“That’s convenient,” she says. I hear her padding around in a luxurious penthouse where Dmitry bought a few buildings next to them to expand. Izzy quit her job a few months ago to oversee the renovations and prepare for the baby.
“Rough night?” I ask, considering it’s late, and I hear a few muffled groans as she moves. She has a way of flowing with how uncomfortable she is. She says every day is a new obstacle.
