Matteo
I’m days into what I thought would be worse than a bullet to the head, and somehow, things keep getting better and better.
I didn’t think I’d ever get married, yet here I am, waking up every morning with a heaviness in my chest that isn’t associated with dread, responsibility, or duty.
I’m clueless what to call it, but I’m reasonably sure it has everything to do with Azra—my wife.
I’m obsessed with her. Wholly and without apology. Every day, I find something new to fixate on. Just watching her brush her teeth thickens me below the belt, and when she gives me lip, annoyed that I used her things for anything but their intended purpose, my obsession grows tenfold.
I am reluctant to leave her side, even for a second, but today I have to.
I requested this meeting, so if I don’t show up, my brothers will assume I’m dead, causing trouble, or too lovesick to function.
Only one of those is true.
I’ll leave you to guess which one.
Voices boom out of the games room when I round the corner.
Giovanni continually checks his watch. Dante restocks the stationery cupboard as if it isn’t brimming with supplies.
Nico is eating something that smells like it died twice, and Elio is studying a surveillance image like he did his first Playboy centerfold—head angled and lips pursed.
They all look up when I walk in.
Giovanni smirks. “Look who finally remembered he has a family and responsibilities.”
“Shut up,” I mutter, taking a seat. “You’ve been eating Valentina’s pussy every day at a minimum of twice a day for seven months straight, but I bet you still whined like a bitch when I called this meeting.”
Dante grins. “Don’t be jealous, Matteo. A healthy appetite is in the Caruso bloodline.”
“Tell me about it.” I rub my hands together but keep my many, many stories to myself.
Azra… our sex life… fuck. Why did I have to remember so soon into the honeymoon phase that I won’t be the man my wife needs if my head never leaves the comfort of her legs?
Not going to lie, my woman is a nymphomaniac. I’m struggling to keep up with her demands, and I love sex as much as I do her eagerness to suck my dick.
“Married life that good?” Nico asks, his tone a little too high for his liking. He sounds like a dweeb who has never had his cock sucked. I know that’s a lie. Back in the day, we shared a girl or two. Even when she was being filled by one of us, she was required to suck the other’s cock.
That’s all done with now. I thought that was the life.
Again and again, Azra continues to prove me wrong.
I don’t answer Nico. I don’t need to. My silence says everything.
Elio whistles. “He’s so fucking gone.”
He’s not wrong, but I didn’t come here to talk about how whipped I am.
I came here to keep my promise to Azra.
“Azra doesn’t believe Antonio’s first wife’s suicide was a case of mental illness. She believes Antonio orchestrated her death.”
The room falls silent before Giovanni breaks it, “Why would she want to marry him if she thought he killed his first wife?”
“Hattie was Azra’s best friend.”
“Hattie?” Dante asks, lost.
“Hatice Bayar.” Elio spins his laptop screen to show him Hattie’s social media profile.
“Azra and Hattie grew up together. From what I can see from her social media posts, they’ve known each other since they were two.
Azra caught a severe case of influenza just before her second birthday.
Since her mother was pregnant, Ada, the ?ahins’ long-term housekeeper, took Azra to her house until she recovered. ”
I nod, agreeing with his findings since I heard that exact story only days ago. “Ada and Hattie were Azra’s family in every sense but blood.”
“Still doesn’t explain why she’d want to marry the man she thought killed her sister,” Giovanni says, moving the meeting forward.
“When Antonio married Hattie, the prenup stated any assets accrued before the marriage would be theirs to keep… unless the death was self-inflicted.”
Dante’s eyes widen. “They ruled her death a suicide, so—”
“All her assets, which were the entirety of her mother’s wealth, went to Antonio,” I finish. “Leaving Hattie’s family bankrupt. The house Azra grew up in was part of the inheritance.”
Nico blinks. “Wait. I thought Azra lived with her parents.”
“She did,” I agree. “But she slept under Hattie’s roof more than her own. Hattie’s father died when she was young.” I pause, letting the weight of my next words settle my anger. “So it was safer for Azra there than under a roof where every female is seen as lesser.”
Dante’s jaw tightens as he discloses that my brothers have been watching my relationship with Azra more than they let on. “So Giovanni was right. She didn’t care about Antonio’s money.”
“No. All she wanted back was her godmother’s house.”
Dante frowns. “Why wouldn’t her father help her with that?”
Something hot flares in my chest. It could be anger, but in all honesty, I think it’s closer to pride. “Because they’re not all you, Dante. Azra’s father doesn’t give a fuck about her.”
Now there’s no doubt the heat roaring through me is from anger.
I hate that Don ?ahin is still breathing the air he refused to share with his only daughter unless it benefited him in some way.
He was fortunate to leave before the sheet-staining ritual was completed, or I would have done everything possible to ensure he joined the other four fools from that night in the car.
With most of the attendees being associated with the Cosa Nostra, taking out the men who witnessed Azra lose her virginity was risky, but with the hotel management team happy to assist, thanks to a generous donation toward their renovation fund, the only guests who checked out before the accident were those men.
The rest slept through the entire thing.
Giovanni leans back and steeples his fingers. “What outcome are you seeking from this information? Revenge? Closure for Azra? We need to know what we’re aiming for before we can commence seeking it.”
I grin, thankful for their immediate support. I have no clue why I didn’t think they’d back my campaign. Yeah, we almost came to blows during our last meeting, but they’re as often as Nico stroking one out to memories of Alora. Regular as fuck.
“My main priority is to get Ada’s house back in the right name.”
“And?” Dante asks, knowing there’s more.
“And…” I pause to build suspense. “I’d also like to prove Azra’s claims are legitimate. The stories she shared of Hattie didn’t depict a suicidal woman.” Elio nods, agreeing with me. “If that knowledge underhandedly takes down the Adamis, I’m all for it.”
“Financially,” Giovanni adds, gaining the attention of every pair of eyes in the room. “We can’t take them down physically. That will undo everything we’ve been endeavoring to achieve over the past seven months.”
I might not like what he says, but I can’t disagree with it. “I understand.”
“Do you?” Giovanni gives me a pointed look. “Because I’m still setting spot fires all across Carlisle to contain the wildfire you lit the morning after your wedding.”
He knows about that?
Of course he does. He’s the don of our chapter for a reason.
He doesn’t appear bothered, though, which frees me to hit him with a frisky wink. We’re governed by rules that have made us filthy fucking rich, but they’re nonexistent when it comes to protecting our women—both physically and mentally.
Giovanni taught me that, so he can’t slap me across the knuckles when I put his logic into play.
With Dante still handling many tasks to give Lucia the same peace I’m trying to provide Azra, he gets our meeting back on track. “We can bankrupt them. Strip them of everything. Leave them with nothing but the clothes on their backs.”
Nico’s tongue peeks between his teeth when he grins. “Fuck that. If we’re going to strip them bare, let’s go the whole hog. The women of Sicily deserve to know they’re signing up for half a wurstelini when they sniff out their next victim.”
Giovanni smirks when Nico wiggles his index finger in the air, indicating the length of an erect Adami dick, before he reminds us of the rules. “All options are on the table. We just can’t kill them. That’s not in the cards.”
“I understand,” I repeat. Giovanni cocks a brow, and I pfft his lack of trust. “I do. All I want is Azra’s godmother’s house.
” I seal the deal with a pledge no one in this room will hesitate to uphold.
“Anything else can go to the Adami family’s many victims.” Including Antonio’s hands when I prove Azra’s claims that he murdered his first wife.