Page 50 of Mafia King: Matteo
“Yes.”
“He didn’t know you there?”
“We don’t use real names. I don’t see how he would have known.”
There is no level Matteo won’t sink to obtain me, buy me, or persuade me. Did he pick me out with a purpose? How far ahead does he plan his moves?
Am I marrying a psychopath?
“I’m sure I’m overthinking it,” Izzy says.
I sigh in relief. How long can I keep up the charade that we’ve become engaged over steamy hook-ups?
“It’s late. I’d better let you go,” I say.
We bid each other goodnight, and I place my phone on the charger on my nightstand. I stare out the window and watch the snowfall. It’s so pretty, and its serene presence calms me.
How do I wage a war with a man who will do anything to win?
Matteo wants me in a cage. He shows up when he wants and takes what he wants. So why bother to make it official? He had what he wanted from me. Why did he have to make me a part of the bargain?
He’s older. I assume he needs an heir.
I wonder how long it will be before we’re married. Once that occurs, I’ll be locked into a lifetime of demands dictated by my husband, and I’ll have to fulfill his every wish.
I hope some of his wishes are salaciously enjoyable.
CHAPTER 17
MATTEO
It’s the middle of the night in Sicily, and too late to call Niccoló. I wish I had informed him of my plan, but life sometimes moves quickly.
The mansion is so quiet that I hear the heels of my shoes click on the terra rossa porcelain Italian tiles as I make my way up the large staircase to the second floor. This house was bought months ago with a wife in mind, so it’s only natural that I wouldn’t want to live in this monstrosity like a tumbleweed forever.
Eventually, most bachelors take a wife. I’m sure Alena will know what to do with the empty spaces. Federico is gone for the night, and now I wish he were here. The mansion overwhelms me. We’re not used to such large homes in Sicily, where the sea and mountains limit land use.
Federico is more than a chef. I occasionally have philosophical conversations with him. He’s intuitive, and I find him to be a good judge of character. He’s an integral part of my family, even if he’s not of my blood.
I hope he will watch Alena, as I will be out all day and night, building my sprawling empire that will only grow bigger with time. I’m taking over for my father, and there are things I have to handle myself. I need to unravel his life if I’m to feel safe in mine.
I suppose I’ve started a list in my head, but I think it works best with a pen in my hand and a notebook. After tonight’s dinner, my mind wanders off.
I’m a visual person. I prefer to see information in charts, graphs, and other media rather than reading wordy reports. I hold face-to-face meetings in secure rooms with no cell phones. I don’t need distractions, and I can never be too careful.
Perhaps this is why I am drawn to Alena—the vision of her in the red and black bustier and stockings. The heels made the outfit complete. I had a boner stiffer than a lead pipe to prove its effectiveness. She was not afraid to commit to the themed night.
“Angels and Demons” is a great song, and as it turns out, it marks the first time I met a sexually liberating woman. I’ve always found sex to be liberating, but that was before I realized marriage was the end game.
She gave them the impression she was badass. I know underneath the finery she wore, she’s an angel in disguise. I’m sure she’ll soon conclude that I’m the devil she didn’t see coming. She doesn’t have a mean spirit, and I hope she will comply with the changes she’ll be forced to make.
I’ve known beautiful women over the years, but none can compare to her. I walk into my large, built-out closet, which resembles the one tailored for my woman. I undress and wish that she were here.
Soon, I tell myself.
It will take me time to get used to living here. Thankfully, Long Island is quieter than the city, but it is an adjustment for me. I love my Sicilian home by the sea. The rhythmic waves of the ocean helped me fall asleep.
I undressed and reentered the bedroom with the oversized king-size bed. A vase of fresh-cut daisies with lavender and baby’s breath is on the dresser. Money might not buy me everything, but it helps to retain the best staff.
