Page 69 of Mafia King: Matteo
“These pies are called Coulibiac. They are puff pastry shells filled with salmon filling. They’re delicious.” He enters the solarium and sits.
We sit as well.
A butler places water before us, and I notice iced tea on the table.
“What is on your mind, Matteo? My daughter said it was important that I meet with you today.”
“Thank you so much for arranging time to meet. I’m sorry for the short notice.”
“It happens. I was young once. I try not to do so much in a day now. What can I do for you?”
My heart races like the engine in a getaway car.
“I had no idea whom to speak to first. I am taking over for my father, Luciano Borrelli, and I’ve fallen in love with an incredible woman under your protection. I went to her father, and it occurred to me that I might have offended you as we are both men in positions of power.”
He sits back in his chair, a sober, reflective thought on his face. For a man in his late forties or early fifties, he’s aged well, considering the stress of the job that I know all too well.
“Continue,” he says as he places a pie and fruit on his plate.
I follow his lead, as does Gio. I figure it’s only polite.
“I didn’t want you or anyone else to assume that we have an alliance when I marry Alena, especially when we’ve never met. I don’t want our marriage to imply things that might misrepresent the situation. I know how these things will be construed in our world, and I do not wish to offend you. As I said, I have no idea how to proceed with my marriage and the fact that Alena and Izzy are best friends, family, even. I can’t come between my wife and your daughter.”
I’ve made my plea. It’s always better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission in our world. However, it does not guarantee a favorable outcome.
“You know, Mikhail has been off lately. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Now, I know it is over this situation with his daughter. He’s alluded to the fact that his daughter has fallen for someone we might be leery of, but he had no choice with her affair of the heart.”
Mikhail Pasnov might be Alena’s father, but he’s a worm. I never intended for him to come clean, but to cast a shadow on me is a slight I won’t forget. He’s become consumed with power, and now I understand why Alena wanted me to keep tabs on him. I have a feeling he might not be long in this world with how he’s escalated things between us and is now disavowing me for marrying his daughter.
The don is quiet—my fate is in his hands.
“Manuel, please bring Vodka,” he says before he takes a bite of his meat pie.
The butler carries a tray of shot glasses and a bottle of chilled vodka.
The don swallows and speaks. “I was once young and in love. The love of my life, one might say. But she was mine, and she was gorgeous. I only married for duty, which was a bed of thorns that did not end well. She resented my first love. I have looked into you, and you are a man of honor. We have commonalities for the women we love. Alena took care of my daughter while she was homeless and attending school. She did so out of kindness to my daughter, never knowing who she was and wanting nothing in return. Alena is family to me. I owe her a debt that I couldn’t repay before, but it is still owed. I love my daughter more than life itself, so I offer you a trial alliance for this love. I cannot come between Alena and Izzy. It would break Izzy’s heart if there were a falling out when both women are so happy.”
The don pours three vodkas and hands two of them to us.
“Here’s to love. May we have a blessed union.”
I am overwhelmed by the amount of love this man has for his daughter. I choke back the sentiment over a love lost and love gained. I was not aware of Izzy’s unfortunate beginnings, and I understand why they have been kept private. He cherishes his daughter’s happiness above all else, including fear and hate.
We toss back our vodka, and Alexsei delivers a hearty slap on my back. “Besides, I hate the Morettis. I’d do anything to see that man in the ground,” he mutters. “This will be one stake in his heart.” He nods, and it feels like the click of a loaded gun.
Does he want me to whack Don Moretti?
We enjoyed our lunch and left the next joint business venture up for discussion. We stand. The Don shakes my hand, welcoming me into the fold, and even shakes Gio’s hand. He walks us to the door, and once I step into the chilly air, I breathe a sigh of relief.
“I feel better now,” I chuckle as we walk confidently to my limo.
“You got lucky. Alena seems to be the center of what is becoming a contentious relationship between you and her father,” Gio says as he slides behind the wheel.
“That little fucking weasel. Alena asked me to keep tabs on him, so she doesn’t trust him either. Alena won’t sacrifice Izzy when her father is in the wrong. She’s a sweet woman and loved by the Don. I think Alexsei loves Alena more than her father.”
I wonder if Alena knows how Alexsei feels about her.
“Well, she saved your ass today,” Gio says with aplomb.
