3. Matteo
Matteo
Drowning. I was fucking drowning.
It had been two months since Gio took off for parts unknown, leaving me in charge. Until now, I had never truly appreciated all that went into being the head of the Bellini Family. It made my role as CEO of a multi-billion-dollar real-estate enterprise look like a cakewalk.
Enzo helped guide me the best he could, prompting me on how to handle any situations that arose in a way that was consistent with Gio’s leadership so that the transfer of power appeared seamless.
In public, I gave off a commanding presence, but the minute I retreated behind closed doors, the facade fell away, and too often, I got lost in a bottle of the most expensive scotch that money could buy.
That was the only way I could forget how I’d failed Allegra, how I’d failed our daughters in the wake of her death.
They hadn’t just lost one parent that day; they’d lost two.
Because I’d closed off, kept them at arm’s length, certain that they were better off without me—Allegra sure as hell would have been.
It filled me with a burning rage that we were no closer to finding the people responsible for that ambush that claimed her life.
Reviewing the casino ledgers was tedious but essential work.
Because, every so often, someone thought that since a surplus of cash was running through those doors, they could steal from the Bellinis and it would go unnoticed.
Without fail, they always got caught and had to be taught a very painful—fatal—lesson that served as a deterrent to anyone else who might dare to have the same idea.
Until memories faded and another idiot got greedy.
It was so fucking stupid. Everyone within the family and working for it had plenty of money. No one was suffering. We took good care of our people.
But greed was a cancer, infecting the minds of weak men. And in the end, it was never worth it, because they paid the ultimate price.
Cross-referencing the transactions with the balance that didn’t match up, it was clear we had another snake who thought they could skim off the top in our midst.
Dante Greco was a dead man walking.
I picked up my phone to call Enzo when the man himself appeared in the doorway to my home office.
Shaking my cell, I sighed. “Was just about to call you.”
He arched a dark eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”
A rumble vibrated through my chest. “Dante’s a thieving motherfucker.”
Enzo whistled low, a wicked grin curving on his lips. “Been far too long since you’ve gotten your hands dirty, Boss.”
“Don’t remind me,” I grumbled.
Gio was the one better suited to the violence that came with our birthright. While there was plenty of blood on my hands, I would much rather make men bleed metaphorically in the boardroom.
But with my brother gone, it fell to me to make an example of Dante in front of the rest of our casino staff.
I stood from my chair. “Shall we call an emergency meeting? Get this over with before the doors open tonight?”
My cousin’s mouth drew down at the corners. “As fun as that sounds, it’ll have to wait.”
Brows furrowing, I asked, “Why’s that?”
He hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “Car’s out front, waiting for you.”
“Uh . . .” I racked my brain, trying to recall what appointment we had scheduled this afternoon.
“The birthday party that Francesca’s throwing,” Enzo prompted.
I waved a dismissive hand. “The nanny can take the girls.” Was it bad that I couldn’t even remember this latest one’s name?
“According to Teresa, she quit this morning.”
Dragging a hand over my jaw, I muttered, “Of course she did.” I heaved out a sigh, walking toward where my cousin stood near the door. “I’ll see if maybe Teresa can take them.”
“Matteo, it’s Bianca’s party.”
That news stopped me dead in my tracks. “What?” Francesca Russo was throwing my daughter a birthday party? Why?
Almost as if he could read my thoughts, Enzo said, “The capos’ wives are stepping up because this is what they do.
When one of our men goes down, they rally around the wife and children of the fallen.
They know you’d never ask for help, but they’re looking out for your girls.
This is Bianca’s first birthday since . .
.” His words trailed off. He knew better than to mention Allegra.
“Right.” I swallowed thickly.
There was pity reflecting back at me in his hazel eyes. “I know you’re hurting, but you can’t skip out on this party.”
Tugging on the back of my neck, I huffed out, “Yeah. You’re right.”
“The good news is Teresa’s got them all packed up and in the car. All you have to do is show up. The wives have everything planned out to a T and will be more than happy to take the baby off your hands once you get there.”
“I, uh, didn’t even get her a present.”
A corner of Enzo’s lips twitched. “It’s my job to have your back. Gift’s already in the trunk.”
“Since you’re already in a festive mood, I guess you’ll have no problem accompanying me.”
His eyes went wide. An afternoon spent around screaming children would be torture for my older cousin. He might love my girls, but they were a rare exception to his feelings about kids.
“Uh . . . I don’t think—”
I held up a hand, cutting him off. “Weren’t you just telling me that your job is to have my back?”
“Fuck my life,” he muttered under his breath. With a roll of his eyes, he let out a heavy exhale. “Fine. Let’s party.”
Clapping him on the shoulder, I guided him from my office. “If I’m in hell, get used to riding shotgun.”
Enzo’s head dropped back on a groan. “Greaaaaaat.”
A four-year-old’s birthday party, here we come.
“Who the fuck are all these kids?” I kept my voice low enough that only Enzo could hear me as Francesca took off with Bianca to change into her swimsuit.
Grimacing at the screams echoing through the enclosed space containing the indoor pool, he replied, “I think it’s one of those deals like back in school, where you couldn’t just invite a few kids you liked.
You had to invite the whole class so no one got their feelings hurt.
Can’t be seen to have favorites when you’re the boss. ”
“’Course you can.” I scoffed. “That’s why some men hold a higher rank than others.”
“That’s true,” Enzo conceded. “But you have to remember that your survival relies on their loyalty, and it isn’t in your best interest to start breeding resentment over whose kid did or didn’t get invited to the Don’s daughter’s birthday party.”
“Whatever.” I needed a drink, stat.
“Consider it practice for when she gets married.” I could hear the fucking smirk in his voice.
Even though he was joking, it still didn’t keep me from choking on my own saliva at the thought of my baby girl all grown up and marrying some dipshit who didn’t deserve her.
There were a few strong slaps to my back. “You okay there, Boss?”
I shot my cousin a death glare. “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”
“Shh.” He placed a finger over his lips, which were curved into a shit-eating grin. “Little ears, remember?”
“How could I forget?” I muttered. At this rate, my ears would be ringing for weeks.
“What are we gonna do with this one?” Enzo lifted the car seat containing Serafina.
“Uh . . .” My eyes darted around the space, praying one of the women would take pity on me and offer to keep an eye on my sleeping baby so I could grab that drink I so desperately needed.
Like magic, Francesca reappeared, crouching down to peek at my daughter. “Oh! Look at the little lamb all tuckered out.” She placed a hand to her chest as she rose to her full height. “Makes me miss when mine were that little. Goes by so fast.”
“Mm-hmm.” I gave her a tight-lipped smile.
“Let me show you to a quiet room where this sleeping angel can finish her nap in peace. Just give me a minute to grab my daughter, Sofia, who can keep an eye on her, so you’re free to focus on the birthday girl.”
Before I could thank her, Francesca turned on her heel, weaving through the crowded pool deck, a woman on a mission.
“See?” Enzo said from my side. “Told you there’d be tons of willing babysitters.”
I hummed. “Any chance I could con one of them into taking up the nanny job?”
A snort sounded. “Yeah, good luck with that. These women didn’t even raise their own children.”
“What about Francesca’s daughter?”
“Alessio Russo is as loyal as they come, but it might be pushing it to ask that his fourteen-year-old drop out of school to watch after your girls.”
My head dropped back on a groan. “Fuck. When am I gonna catch a break?”
“No rest for the wicked, my friend.”
Who knew that proverb would turn out to be so damn literal?
Francesca returned with a raven-haired, fresh-faced teenage girl. With a giant smile, my capo’s wife gestured toward a door behind us that would lead back into the house. “If you’ll follow me, we can get the little princess settled.”
Taking the car seat from Enzo’s hands, I leaned in, saying low, “Make sure there’s a scotch waiting for me when I get back.”
He chuckled. “I’ll make it a double.”
“Have I mentioned lately that you’re my favorite cousin?”
Rearing back, he arched a dark eyebrow. “Better not let Gemma hear you talking like that.”
“Gemma’s not here, is she?” I challenged.
God, my life would be so much easier if she were.
Coming to my house and spending time with Bianca had been her escape, so I had no doubt that she would have leapt at the chance to step in and help raise my girls.
And I could only imagine that a familiar face would be enough to set Bianca at ease during a time when her entire world had been flipped upside down.
“Yeah, well.” Enzo huffed, rolling his eyes. “If she keeps making waves, she’ll be back before you know it.”
“Oh, yeah?” Hope lit up in my chest as I waited for him to explain.
“Matteo?” Francesca called out, drawing my attention away from my cousin.
“I’ll fill you in later,” Enzo promised.
“Scotch,” I reminded him.
“On it.” He gave me a mock salute, stepping past me toward what was hopefully the bar.