Page 279 of Rosetti Family New York
After we disconnect, I sit in the darkness of my suite, surrounded by screens and the cold blue glow of intelligence I shouldn't possess. Three years ago, I would have trusted her without question. Now, I trust nothing but the data.
I pull up the facial recognition timestamps from the past week. Mara's been in New York for two days. Long enough to set up the Pier 17 warning, but also long enough to have orchestrated the attack itself. The timeline works either way. Savior or saboteur.
My security system pings. Someone's entered my wing of the Rosetti manor. I switch to internal surveillance and freeze.
Matteo. My twin.
He steps into my suite without knocking, all bravado and big dick energy. Unlike him, I carry my darkness on the outside, all sharp edges and calculated menace.
"Hiding in your cave again, little brother?" Matteo smirks, helping himself to my scotch without asking. "Always with your computers while the rest of us do the real work."
"I'm minutes younger than you," I reply flatly, minimizing Mara's surveillance feeds before he can see them. "And some of us prefer solving problems with our brains instead of our dicks."
He laughs, but there's no warmth in it. "Still bitter about Barcelona? That blonde chose me, Milo. Not my fault you were too busy hacking traffic lights to notice her signals."
"I'm busy," I say, ignoring the bait. "What do you want?"
Matteo sprawls in my chair, deliberately invading my space. "Dom wants an update on who hit us at Pier 17. Says you've been locked up here for hours with nothing to show for it."
"I'm working on it."
"Work faster." He drains my scotch and sets the glass down with unnecessary force. "Or is this another situation where you're too deep in your own head to be useful to the family?"
The reference to my breakdown after Mara disappeared isn't subtle. Matteo never approved of how I handled it—my obsession, my refusal to let her go. He called it weakness. Maybe he was right.
"Some threats require patience to unravel," I say carefully. "Unlike your approach of shooting first and never asking questions."
His eyes narrow. "At least I get results. When's the last time you stepped away from your screens and got your hands dirty? You think you're better than the rest of us because you work clean, but you're just a coward hiding behind technology."
"And you're just a thug with our father's last name," I snap back. "There's a reason Sal comes to me for strategy and sends you to break kneecaps."
Matteo stands, looming over my desk. "Watch yourself, brother. When this family faces real danger, it won't be your algorithms that save us. It'll be men willing to bleed."
"Get out of my space," I say. I need to focus, and his presence is a distraction I can't afford right now. "I'll have information for Dom by morning." I turn back to my work, trying to signal that the conversation is over.
"You found her," he says, not a question, but a statement. His eyes search mine for confirmation, trying to read the truth in my expression.
I wait long seconds before answering, debating how much to admit. Leonardo was the only one I told that Mara was back in town, and only because I felt guilty looking at him lying in bed, recovering from his gunshot wound. I didn't want my brothers, or worse my sister, knowing she was back in town because they thought I acted illogically around her. The last thing I needed was Matteo throwing his charm around and convincing Dom or Sal to go after Mara.
"How did you know?" I finally say.
No point denying it. I can hide any secret from any person in the world except my damn twin. He reads me like I’m a fucking newspaper.
Matteo moves to the window and looks down at the garden like he's considering which parts to burn. "Because you're here instead of hunting Callahan's men. Because you've got that look."
"What look?"
"The one that says you're about to do something stupid for a woman who left you bleeding." He picks up a drive from my desk and turns it over in his hands like he can read the data from the outside.
I stand, snatching the drive from his hand. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"I know exactly what I'm talking about. You're compromised, Milo. Always have been when it comes to her. The quiet, brooding twin, so desperate for connection he fell for the first pretty face that looked twice at him."
"Fuck you," I say, the words low and dangerous.
Matt's laugh is sharp-edged. "What's your plan? Save her? Bring her home like a stray? Maybe she can sleep in your bed while she feeds information to Callahan."
"Get out."
