Chapter 18
18
Mateo
G inny is sleeping soundly in my bed when I wake up. It’s something I’ve gotten used to over the last three weeks. She’s unofficially moved into my room, ever since coming back from spending time with her sister. Most nights we’ve been so exhausted from our respective work that we’ve fallen into bed without even touching, but having her warm body beside at night has been a kind of comfort I hadn’t realized I was missing.
With her around, the house feels different, alive, somehow. Most nights, she’s in my bed, tangled up in my sheets, her moans of pleasure and soft breathing the last sounds I hear before I drift off. And during the day, she’s everywhere, flitting around the house in those short skirts or tight leggings that drive me insane. It’s like she spends her time every morning picking out the exact combination of clothing that will keep me thinking about her all day.
Thankfully, she doesn’t just exist merely in my thoughts. She and I find a hundred excuses to bump into each other throughout the day, and I don’t bother pretending the staff hasn’t noticed. I couldn’t care less. I look forward to those little interruptions in my day, the moments when she leans against my doorframe, flashing that smile that sets me on fire.
On more than one occasion, I haven’t been able to control myself, pulling her into whatever room or closet was nearest. We may be too tired most nights for sex, but I can’t let a day go by without ravishing her body in one way or another. The last few days, my favorite activity has been pocketing her underwear when we’re done, carrying them around for the rest of the day. It turns me on to know that she’s somewhere in my house, bare under her clothes.
It’s not like me to get so distracted by a woman, especially with so much going on, but Ginny isn’t just any distraction. She’s more like a magnet, pulling me to her from wherever she is. It’s insane how I can just know what part of the house she’s in without being told, how I can hear footsteps coming down the hall and know they’re hers. My mind and body have become so attuned to her, I can’t remember what it was like before she was here, her scent on my pillow, her head on my chest as we fall asleep.
Then there are times when I know she’s not in the house, when she’s disappeared for a few hours. She’ll never tell me where she’s going, and when I’ve asked, she’s simply made me promise to trust her and not ask her driver where he took her because it’s a surprise. A surprise for me. I generally don’t like surprises, don’t trust them, but knowing that Ginny has something in the works, that she thinks about me so much that she’s working on something just for me, makes me fall for her even more.
I can only assume it has something to do with the old apartment building, though I won’t ruin the surprise by telling her my suspicions. Her renovations on the old wing of this house are nearly complete, and she hasn’t asked to do another wing yet. But I know she was intrigued by that building. I remember how her eyes lit up when we first visited. It was like she saw the future mapped out in front of her, and she wanted that future. With me.
Now, I find myself craving her presence even more. The last few days my work has gotten unbelievably complicated. I don’t know what the hell the Savini brothers are up to, but it’s something big. They’ve gone completely radio silent, fallen off the grid, which isn’t like them at all. They are loud; they like for their presence to be known. No one’s seen either one of them in over a week, and that alone tells me there’s a storm brewing.
There’s been word from one of my men on the inside, just a whisper, really, that the Savinis are planning something that’s going to knock me on my ass. Unfortunately, the details are as elusive as the brothers themselves. They’re keeping their plans very close to their chest, not trusting anyone but their inner circle. I don’t like it. I don’t like walking around with the feeling of eyes on me, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
My phone vibrates on my desk, snapping me out of my thoughts. I glance down, and my eyebrows shoot up when I see the name on the screen as if he could read my thoughts: David Savini. He’s the younger of the two Savini brothers, the one I’ve always thought was a little too reckless for his own good. For a second, I consider letting it go to voicemail, of robbing him of the satisfaction of my attention. But something tells me this isn’t the kind of call I want to ignore.
I pick up, my tone cold. “David,” I answer flatly. “To what do I owe the displeasure?”
There’s a pause, just long enough to make me wonder if he’s going to hang up, but then he speaks, his voice dripping with fake charm.
“Mateo Rossi,” he responds with the excitement of a car salesman. “How the hell are ya? I just thought I’d check in, see how things are going over there in your kingdom.”
I grit my teeth, keeping my tone even. “My ‘kingdom’ is just fine, David,” I tell him with just the slightest hint of sarcasm. “You just call to shoot the shit?”
He chuckles, a low, mocking sound that sets my nerves on edge. “Good to hear,” he says, ignoring my question. “Wouldn’t want anything to, you know, disrupt your little empire.” He emphasizes his last two words with venom in his voice. “That’s actually why I’m calling. Figured I’d give you a heads-up.”
I lean back in my chair, fingers drumming against the armrest, though I try not to give him any indication of my anxiety.
“A heads-up?” I repeat monotonously. “How thoughtful of you.”
“Here’s the thing, Mateo,” he continues, his tone shifting from flippant to something far more dangerous. “As of today, the Wheeler apartment complex is ours. Your men have an hour to clear out, or there’ll be consequences.”
I can’t help but scoff, the absurdity of his words almost making me laugh. These little punks keep thinking they have any effect on me, but they fail to realize that I’m the only man in this town who wields any real power. They’re fucking around now, but they’ll soon find out.
“The Wheeler Complex has been in my family since before you were born, David,” I reply glibly. “That’s not changing anytime soon. There’s nothing that you can say or do to take it away from me. It would be amusing to watch you try, though. Give me a reason to teach you a lesson, you smarmy little shit, I’m begging you.”
David’s voice turns icy, all traces of mockery gone. “Trust me, Mateo, you don’t want to test me on this. If your men aren’t out in an hour, you’re going to regret it.”
The audacity of this shithead is almost impressive. Almost. But I’ve dealt with far bigger threats than David Savini, and I’m not about to start backing down now. I keep my tone calm, measured, letting him know exactly how little his words affect me.
“My men aren’t going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not giving up a single square foot to you or your brother.”
There’s a pause, and then he laughs, a low, menacing sound that echoes through the phone. “It ain’t your men you should be worrying about, Mateo.”
Before I can respond, the line goes dead. I sit there, the silence settling around me, my mind racing and my blood boiling as I think over his words. It ain’t your men you should be worrying about . The threat hangs heavy in the air, and my mind immediately turns to Ginny.
She’s too good for all of this, too pure to be caught up in this world. They found my greatest weakness. They wanted to cross that line.
I toss my phone onto the desk, my fists clenching as I try to tamp down the surge of anger bubbling up inside me. David’s bluffing. He has to be. But there’s a small, nagging doubt, a voice in the back of my mind reminding me that the Savinis aren’t the type to make empty threats. They may be watching me now, aware of my new paramour. If they lay a single finger on her, I will kill them with my bare hands. I had to protect her.
Then it occurs to me that I haven’t checked in with Ginny since I woke up this morning.
She’s off on her “surprise,” but I don’t actually know where she goes. I don’t want to ruin it, but her safety right now is my utmost priority or else I will come to regret this for the rest of my days. I hit her contact in my phone and wait impatiently as the line rings, pacing the empty room and getting annoyed with the echo of my own feet. But I can’t stop moving. Fear is propelling me to act. Where was she?
She’s probably working, elbow-deep in paint or something, but damn it, if she doesn’t pick up her phone, I’m going to explode. The call goes to voicemail and I scream out several cusses, pressing her contact again. Again, she doesn’t answer, my call going to voicemail.
Practically sprinting now, I almost bump into one of the house staff as I head back to my office to grab my things and look for her.
“Mr. Rossi, is everything okay?” the young man asks timidly. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
He’s just doing his job, but my anxiety is too high to deal with the overt politeness of the staff.
“Unless you know where Miss St. Croix is, I’m afraid you can’t,” I bark at him, already turning away from him.
“I don’t,” he calls to me, and I roll my eyes, but he continues. “But perhaps you could call her driver?”
Of course, why didn’t I think of that? My anxiety has made me stupid, and that’s what the Savinis want. They want me weak and performing at my absolute worst. On my way to the office to grab my car keys, I call her driver. He picks up on the first ring.
“Mr. Rossi, what can I do for you?”
Thank goodness for my overly polite staff.
“I need to know where Ginny is right now,” I nearly scream at the man.
“Of course, sir,” he answers, his professional tone not waving. “She wanted to keep it a surprise, but she’s at the Wheeler apartment complex.”
“Are you with her?” I bark.
“I’m afraid I’m not,” he answers, confirming my worst fear. “She told me she would call me when she was ready to leave.”
Of course she did. Perfect. Just perfect. She was at the hit spot, unattended and unprotected. Fuck. I hang up on him and run out to my car, ready to drive myself recklessly if it meant seconds from saving potentially the love of my life.