Chapter 8
MATTEO
The sky outside Nico’s penthouse is just starting to turn a pale gold, the light fighting the night’s darkness, looking like it’s not gonna win.
Even though I know it must, I still think that today it might not.
The last thing I wanted when I came to New York was to enter another position of servitude at the lowest rung.
But that’s exactly what has now happened.
I spent years being at the bottom, existing only for everyone to shit on when they pleased.
As I suspected, there must’ve been quite a party in here after Nico brought the two girls home.
The living room still smells of alcohol—whiskey and margaritas for the ladies, going by the mess they left in the kitchen.
The glass coffee table is frosted over with white powder as though the living room got a little snowfall during the night and clothes are strewn all over the place, including a shiny red stiletto shoe hanging off the chandelier.
To each their own, I guess.
But the problem is, the three of them are probably passed out in Nico’s room and I need to raid his closet again, because I need to show up for work in less than an hour.
Fucking work! And starting at the crack of dawn. On no sleep. The worst.
“You just getting in?” Nico asks in a hoarse voice behind me as I tinker with the espresso machine in the kitchen, hoping it’s like every other and I’m pressing the right buttons.
He’s wearing a thick, black monogrammed robe and probably nothing underneath. Last night’s festivities seem to have aged him by about ten years, the skin on his face sallow and sort of hanging off his cheeks.
“Yeah,” I say and make way for him by the sink so he can pour himself a huge glass of water which he then chugs down like he just got back from a week spent crawling in the desert.
Meanwhile my double espresso brews and the smell of it lifts my spirits just a little. The first sip a little more.
“So you hooked up with someone, or what?” he asks, leaning against the sink, cradling his glass of water.
“You could say that,” I say and finish my espresso, then immediately start another.
“Do say more,” he says. “Although you could’ve just come home with the three of us. Brittney and Lia are very talented. And insatiable.”
I assume he’s talking about the two women he brought home. I didn’t actually remember their names last night.
“My hook-up was with Victor Codelli,” I say and pause for effect during which he gasps dramatically just as he should. “I saved his daughters from some Russians, and he gave me a job.”
Nico is still recovering from the shock, his face slack and his eyes wide.
The amount of coke and alcohol he consumed last night must make it hard to process information.
It’s why I won’t touch either until my mission is done.
Although now that it’s been bumped back by a decade at least, while I do the Capo’s bidding, I might as well let loose.
But I can’t start thinking that way, because that way lies the ruin my family is so famous for. Although I might already be on the path ruin has chosen for me right now too…
“I don’t understand any of this,” he finally says. “How did you save his daughter? What kind of job is he giving you? What does all this even mean?”
I throw down the second espresso and am finally starting to feel like the world has stopped spinning so very fast.
“I wish I had all those answers for you, but I don’t. Maybe I’ll have them tonight,” I say. “Right now, I need a shower and some fresh clothes from your closet.”
“Sure, take what you need,” he says and stands aside so I can pass him.
His room is dark and also reeks of alcohol, digested and spilt.
The two women are on his huge king-sized bed, tangled up in the sheets, one of them snoring.
The windows are covered by floor-length blackout curtains, but they don’t block out all the light.
I can see a long leg sticking out from the sheets, a breast, an arm, a mop of blonde hair.
Doesn’t look like humans, but rather like some grotesque modern art sculpture, or something that might be left behind in the rubble after a building collapses.
Because that’s how I feel. I feel like everything is collapsing around me and I should know, I’ve been through this kind of collapse before.
I never wanted to experience it again. Coming here, I thought I was starting at the bottom, but I think I might’ve just broken through the rock and fallen deeper still.
Leave it to me and my family name to find the hidden depths even beyond rock bottom.
I’m under no illusion that what the Capo wants is good for me. It’s slavery he’s signed me up for and now that he has, I won’t be going anywhere until he says I can. One day in New York and I’ve already lost the only thing I had—my freedom.
And all because of a beautiful, spoiled mafia princess who doesn’t know what danger looks like. Much less how to escape it. Damn her golden dress and golden hair. And damn my weakness for saving beautiful women.