Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Matteo
"Enough."
I set down my glass and stood, crossing to my woman.
"Rachel, come with me."
She looked up, those beautiful green eyes brimming with tears she stubbornly refused to let fall. I didn't say another word. I just wrapped my hand around her cold, trembling fingers and pulled her from her seat.
I led her through the entire ballroom, past shocked stares, jealous glares, and prying eyes, back to the head table. I pressed her into my own chair and adjusted the shawl that had slipped from her shoulders. Camilla's face turned ashen beside me.
"I'm officially announcing that Rachel Kane is the partner I, Matteo Vitale, have chosen." I gestured toward Camilla. "Sofia is my and Rachel's biological daughter."
"From now on, anyone who dares make things difficult for them—" My voice dropped to ice. "Becomes my enemy."
Dead silence. A few guests shifted their glasses awkwardly, eyes darting everywhere but at me. Camilla's knuckles went white where she gripped her cane. She slammed her crystal glass onto the table hard enough to nearly shatter it.
The party was over. Camilla rose without a word and left the ballroom on Rosalia's arm, never looking back. Guests began making their excuses, and within minutes, the once-crowded room held only Rachel and me.
I took Rachel back to her room. Before I could say two words to her, Rosalia came running, face panicked.
"Sir, Madam's angina—it's flared up again. The family doctor's with her now."
"Matteo, your mother's health comes first!" Rachel pushed at me. "Go check on her."
I didn't move immediately. I knew my mother's temperament, and understood those old tactics she used to control the family.
This attack was exactly what I'd expected.
But Rachel kept insisting, so I went to Camilla's room.
The door stood ajar. The family doctor was putting away his stethoscope while Rosalia hovered by the bed.
When I entered, she immediately stepped aside.
Camilla was propped against the headboard, hand still pressed to her chest, face drawn. She saw me and barely lifted her eyelids, her first words dripping with anger.
"So you deigned to come? How remarkable."
I ignored her barbed sarcasm and addressed the doctor. "How is she?"
"Stable now, sir." The doctor kept his voice low. "She needs to take her medication on schedule, rest, and avoid stress."
"Understood."
Camilla gave a bitter laugh. "For a woman, you humiliated me in front of a roomful of guests. Matteo, do I even matter to you anymore?"
Of course. Same pattern every time. Whenever things slipped from her control, she'd throw every chip on the table, forcing everyone to fall in line.
"Mother," I met her gaze, voice heavy. "You need to rest."
"I don't need rest. I need your attitude to change." Camilla stared at me. "Just give me your word now, and I'll pretend tonight was a moment of confusion."
I waited two seconds, then said flatly, "Take care of yourself. I'll handle the rest."
Camilla's breathing turned labored. Rosalia rushed forward to help. I didn't stay. I turned and went back to Rachel's room. She sat alone by the window, staring into space, moonlight casting her thin silhouette in sharp relief.
I crossed to her and took her hand. "Don't be afraid. With me here, no one can hurt you."
"Matteo, you shouldn't have fought with your mother because of me." She paused, looking out the window. "None of this matters. I just need Sofia to be healthy."
She'd urged me to check on Camilla, brushed off every indignity, willing to endure anything, carry any burden, for our daughter.
My chest tightened. An emotion so intense it nearly suffocated me surged through me. I bent down and lifted her bodily from the chair, pulling her tight against me.
"Rachel," I closed my eyes. "The best decision I ever made was saving you from Charles that night."
She went rigid in my arms. But she didn't push me away.
When I came out of the study, Charles was all smiles, chatting with several elders. He wore a bright blue suit, hair slicked back perfectly—exactly as insufferable as I remembered.
Seeing me, he spread his hands in complaint. "Uncle, the family throws such an important party, and you don't even tell me? I only heard about it from a friend in Rome and rushed back."
I hadn't planned on telling him. After dealing with the mole Davide, I'd sent him to take over a Nordic shipping line—officially a promotion, actually exile.
"Why aren't you in Copenhagen watching the business?"
Charles acted oblivious to my coldness. "What business is more important than family health? I heard Grandmother wasn't well? Perfect timing to visit her, keep her company."
His words were airtight. My nephew was far more complicated than he appeared.
I nodded. "Since you're back, stay." I signaled Rosalia, who immediately sent someone to prepare a room.
That evening, Charles visited Camilla. Luca shadowed him. He stayed in her room nearly an hour before emerging.
"Boss, Charles didn't say much. But after leaving the Signora's room, he went to Rachel's."
I dropped my documents immediately and strode toward Rachel's suite. Inside, Charles crouched before Sofia, holding an exquisitely carved wooden horse, smiling as he entertained her. "Sofia, do you like my present?"
Seeing me, Charles showed no guilt. He stood and walked over, smiling.
"I heard Rachel and the child were here, so I brought some gifts. You don't mind, do you, Matteo?"
Mind? Of course I minded.
I moved to Rachel's side and pulled her into my arms.
"My woman and my daughter don't need attention from outsiders." I stared at Charles. "Rachel will be the future lady of the Vitale family. Remember that."
Charles's smile froze, something dark flashing in his eyes.
"My mistake." He gave a slight bow. "Since you're here, I won't intrude."
He turned and left.
Over the next few days, Charles took meals with Camilla in the garden daily, listening to her complain about family matters. He discussed Nordic shipping with the elders, even inspected the vineyard and talked harvests with the old groundskeeper. But he frequented Rachel's quarters most of all.
His behavior was impeccable, yet his very presence was a reminder—to Rachel, to me.
That evening, after finishing urgent New York business, I headed to the study for an old file. Passing the rose garden, I heard arguing.
I followed the voices around the fountain to the wisteria arbor. On the other side, Charles blocked Rachel's path.
"Rachel, why don't you understand?" Charles's voice was urgent. "I'm the one who truly cares about you! Matteo kills without batting an eye—he brings you nothing but danger and fear!"
"If I hadn't helped you escape New York four years ago, he might've killed you already! You're standing here safe and sound because of me!"
He grabbed her wrist, trying to pull her close.
"Let go of me!" Rachel struggled. "Charles, I've made it clear—there's nothing between us!"
"Nothing?" Charles laughed coldly, gripping tighter. "Is it because he has power and money? Because he can make you lady of the Vitale family? Rachel, open your eyes! He doesn't love you; he just wants to own you! He has no real feelings for you!"
I couldn't take another second. I charged out. Before Rachel could cry out, my fist connected with Charles's face.
"Matteo..." He spat blood and swung back at me.
I dodged and kicked him in the gut. We went down grappling.
"Stop it! Both of you, stop!" Rachel shouted, trying to pull us apart.
I landed another punch on Charles's jaw, then grabbed his collar and hauled him up.
"What have you been doing behind the scenes all these years?" I stared into his hate-filled eyes, voice cold as ice. "Betraying the family, colluding with Farrell—you think I don't know?"
Charles laughed then, wild and manic.
"So what if you know?" He wiped blood from his mouth and looked up at me with pure contempt. "You never had any right to that position. You think the old man really handed Vitale to you? You just played dirty enough, climbed over enough bodies to steal it. You're nothing but a thief!"
"And Rachel," his eyes turned taunting, "you stole my position, and now you're stealing the only person I ever wanted. Matteo, what gives you the right?"