Page 72 of Mafia King: Matteo
No.
I gotta run. TTYL
Wow, that was short. When she becomes a mother, I doubt I’ll get even a few minutes of her time in a week. I’ll be by to see her often. I wonder if the gala event is a go, and if so, it might be the first time the four of us get together.
I text Kirill.
Dad pulled the trigger. Did you hear?
I’ve been meaning to call but was afraid to intervene. Concerned.
That’s cryptic.
I walk to the hallway, pacing. Vito observes me and allows for distance between us to give me privacy.
“Kirill,” I say when he answers his phone.
“What’s up with this quick engagement? Your father just told me. I wasn’t good enough—did you have to go with an Italian? Like your life needed to be more complicated.”
“What do you mean? What did my father tell you?”
“Is this the man you were fucking? If so, you’re being played. He must have known it was you that night at the club.”
“That’s not true. He followed me home afterward.”
“Sure, he would say that. Your dad doesn’t trust him.”
“Well, that’s the pot calling the kettle black,” I huff.
“Are you implying hypocrisy?” he asks, confused.
“Nothing. Forget it,” I reply to avoid escalating the situation until I know what side Kirill is on. I can’t let him in on my hunch. I need more facts. One incident can be explained. However, a string of them is not going to suffice.
I pop a chip into my mouth, then another. They are so damn addicting. My stomach grumbles. It hates me. I really should pack a lunch. The others usually bring food. We have a habit of short lunches and working the other thirty minutes.
“You don’t sound like yourself,” Kirill says.
“I’m adulting. What do you want from me? I have responsibilities,” I reply hastily.
“That’s true, I’m sorry. You’re one of my best friends, and I want to be happy for you.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you happy?”
“I have to go, Kirill. I’ll call soon.”
Am I happy?
Izzy was right in her assumption that I wanted more than to be eye candy for a capo. I might look like I’m into the social climbing aspect of my world of socialites, but I don’t need designer clothing to be complete. I like it and know how to shop, but now that I’ve become engaged to Matteo, I’m out of my element. He’s still a few levels above me in how he holds himself and how confident he comes across.
I’m not sure I can pull that off, but I hope to one day.
After calling contractors for the carpet and submitting the purchasing orders for pillows, I walk with Vito to the elevator.
“The carpet has been ordered; it just happens to be on the agenda today,” I inform him.
“That’s great. I can’t wait. Is it nice?”
