Page 5 of Mafia King: Matteo
They never stick around long after they learn who I am. I think they are afraid my father would shoot them if they knew that we were together. Hence, I’ve never reached the envied hand-holding phase.
I’m opinionated, but I don’t need to comment on every detail in life. I want a man who knows his mind.
Am I asking for too much?
Having a man hold my hand because he wants to mark his territory would be a turn-on. I fantasize about lying in bed on Sunday with a man who isn’t afraid to snuggle me. It wouldn’t be a bother. If anything, I’d like it.
“Izzy’s great. I’ll see her later this week.”
“That’s right, Roman is getting married soon. How is that going?”
“Good, as far as I know. Izzy is having a baby in a few months. That will mean I won’t see her as much.”
“Well, that’s how it goes. You need to make new friends. You’re so pretty. It should be easy for you.”
“No, it’s not easy. I have a tough time trusting anyone.”
“I’m sure it will keep you safe,” she replies without concern.
My family isn’t overly endearing with words or affection. They never say, “I love you.” I think my father compensates for this with the generous allowance he gives me and the fact that he rarely complains about my spending on designer collections.
When I started school, I gave up on expecting any sign of affection from my parents. I noticed other kids getting hugs as their parents dropped them off. My parents love me, but if I have kids, I will smother them with affection.
Maybe I’m just being overly emotional. I called Izzy when she was at the engagement party in the city because I was having a panic attack. The attacks started before we graduated from the Fashion Institute, when I thought I was being followed. I kept this information to myself. Everyone considers me impervious to fear and thinks I’m made of steel.
When we figured out Izzy was being hunted, and that we were helpless without Dmitry’s help. I realized how much of my life was out of my control.
I’ve lived on a need-to-know basis for my protection all my life. I am clueless about the inner workings of the family. It’s expected that I accept this. And I do take it—mostly. But my patience is growing thin. My birth dictates that my life be lived inside this family of criminals. I now fear the unknown. What if I’m kidnapped? What if I’m hit by a bus tomorrow?
I’m relieved Izzy gets to live here and hasn’t been shipped off to Russia. I can’t wait to hear her updates on what is happening in her world.
CHAPTER 3
MATTEO
Niccoló knows I’m leaving Sicily today and joins me for breakfast at my house overlooking the sea. It’s a bittersweet moment as Federico serves us breakfast.
We eat together in the kitchen, overlooking the backyard filled with olive trees. Sitting here reminds me of our childhood. Without a mom to make us wash our hands before eating, we didn’t think much about formal meals, except for dinner. Most of the time, we’d run around with a panini for lunch.
“I hope you’ll tear yourself away from Chiara long enough to visit me in New York. I’m going to miss the hell out of you.”
“I know, me too. We’ll see how things go,” Niccoló says as he sips orange juice.
“Dad’s toxicology report showed lethal levels of thallium in his liver. Exactly when he was poisoned is unclear. I assume it started when he returned to Sicily for the Christmas holiday. But who knows?”
“A bullet to the head would have been more exact,” he murmurs sarcastically. “I’m glad you didn’t act on your impulses. I’m sure you would have offed him had he hurt any of us.”
“True. The timeline on Dad is sketchy. However, I don’t want to alert the entire family to this. It will make us look weak, and during the transition of power, I can’t afford for us to lose the respect our name carries.”
“Who do you suspect?”
“I’m keeping an eye on our uncles. They all have a motive, but they need men in their pockets to take over. I’m not sure if they’ll try to take me out here or in New York. But I know it’s coming. They might sabotage me to show I’m an ineffective leader. Then, I’d lose what I need—the men’s loyalty.”
“Shit. This sucks. I suppose we can’t expect Dad’s brothers to be civilized. But any self-respecting man who murders by poison is a coward. All three of them are too egotistical not to lay a claim to doing that, aren’t they?”
“Not if there is a bigger play to be made. If the price is right, they might keep their mouths shut.” I finish my eggs and toast, washing them down with coffee.
“Any idea what that might be?”
