Chapter Twenty-Two
Lilianna Genovese
Both Sophie and the housekeeper were out on Sunday morning, and Matteo had left before I could speak with him, so only Callum and I remained at home for the morning. He began playing with a small basket of toys but quickly became antsy, wanting something else to do. Sophie liked to frequent a park down the street, but without any additional guards to escort us, it wasn’t a risk I wanted to take. The penthouse had ample protection, and that was what mattered. None of the guards here would be permitted to leave their stations for a walk to the park.
I could have asked for an additional guard to take us, but with Matteo ignoring me, the last thing I wanted was to ask for favors.
Instead, we made our way to the big, open kitchen and began sifting through the pantry for something to make.
“Pancakes?” I asked Callum.
“Cakes,” he agreed with a chipper tone.
I quickly arranged the ingredients on the center island and brought a stool to the side for him. “You remember how to crack an egg?”
Callum grabbed an egg and slammed it into the bowl, allowing the yolk to run through his fingers with a smile. “Trash!” he shouted insistently, holding up the shell.
I grabbed it, and he tossed the mess into the trash before rinsing his hands in the sink and continuing to try to help me with breakfast. It came together quickly, though there was certainly an impressive mess surrounding us as I scanned the floor and countertop. Callum had gotten a little pour happy with the pancake mix, and the blueberries he’d put inside had been distributed between his mouth, the bowl, and the surrounding countertop.
After a few near-meltdowns and a lot of unnecessary steps, a small pile of pancakes sat on a plate beside the stove, ready to eat. I pulled one off the griddle and placed it atop the stack, preparing to pour the batter to make another.
The front door clicked open, and I shot my gaze toward it.
Matteo strolled inside, wearing a nice suit and shoes that had been polished to perfection. I gave him a small smile, but his face remained hard as he looked at me.
Two days, and I hadn’t gotten more than an emotionless glare. He’d been decent enough to send a female employee inside the conference room with a new pair of leggings within moments of leaving, but other than that, he’d acted as if I didn’t exist.
“Hi,” I said. “Do you want to join us in making breakfast?”
He looked down at Callum, and for the first time in days, he allowed a part of his hard exterior to fall away. Devastation flashed behind his eyes as he looked at Callum. He stepped forward, taking in our boy. He seemed to be noticing all the similarities for the first time, and each additional second he stood there, the more emotions crossed his face. Shame. Confusion. Anger.
“What are you making?” he asked, placing a briefcase on the counter out of Callum’s reach. He didn’t direct his attention toward me, instead crouching at the counter beside his son.
“Cakes,” Callum pointed to the bowl. “Break egg.”
“You broke an egg?” Callum nodded emphatically, and a sad smile crossed Matteo’s face. “That’s really cool, buddy. Are pancakes your favorite breakfast?”
He nodded, and I didn’t bother correcting him. Callum didn’t have a favorite breakfast. He enjoyed anything that was put in front of him. For lunch, on the other hand, he almost always insisted on hotdogs.
“There’s a lot I need to learn about you,” Matteo said, rustling Callum’s hair.
Our son pushed Matteo’s hand away with a huff. “Mine hair.”
Matteo shook his head with a small chuckle. “You got it from me.”
He certainly had. The long and dark curls came strictly from Matteo, and now that he recognized it, I knew he’d recognize the various other similar features, too.
“Mine,” Callum insisted.
“Where did you go today?” I asked.
Matteo spared me only a brief glance as he stood and gathered his briefcase. “I was collecting a few debts.”
My attention caught on his red and bruised knuckles. It seemed that he hadn’t just been collecting debts. Matteo rarely lost his temper, so I wondered what the people on the receiving end of those blows had done to push him. Was it possible that news of Callum had contributed to it?
“You and your mommy enjoy the pancakes,” he said, turning his back on us.
“Matteo,” I called after him. “I’ll make you some, too. Why don’t you sit down and eat?”
He didn’t stop. He didn’t even look over his shoulder as he moved toward his office.
“Matteo, please!” I shouted after him.
When he didn’t turn, I grabbed one of the cooled pancakes and placed it in front of Callum before rushing after him. I grabbed Matteo’s shoulder a few feet outside of his office.
His back felt stiffer than I’d ever felt it. The muscles beneath my fingertips clenched so tightly that I wondered how he was able to walk fluidly. “Matteo, please talk to me. You can’t ignore me forever.”
He turned slowly, looking down at me. Before the mask returned, disappointment flashed in his eyes.
“I’m not ignoring you,” he countered.
Nothing. He gave me no emotion.
“I—I can make you breakfast, and we can sit down and talk about this. I don’t want to lose you. You mean too much to me, Matteo.”
Matteo was every inch the Don that the world saw, yet the Matteo I’d grown to adore was nowhere in sight. I had no idea what he was thinking or feeling after telling him the truth, though I could easily surmise it was nothing positive.
When he didn’t reply, I tried again. I reached for his hand. “Please, talk to me.”
My heart sank as he jerked his hand back. “There’s nothing to discuss.”
I crossed my arms over my chest protectively. I wasn’t sure what I was protecting. I knew he wouldn’t physically hurt me, but the emotional wound he had dealt when he retreated felt more potent than any blow. “We can’t continue on like this. I need you to understand why I did what I did. I hate that I hurt you, Matteo. It crushes me. You mean everything to me.”
“Not now,” he replied coldly.
“I understand that you’re upset—”
“You don’t understand anything about what I’m feeling right now,” he seethed. I tried placing a gentle hand on his chest, but he stepped out of reach again. He wouldn’t even let me touch him. How had we gotten here? With every step he retreated—with every touch he rejected—my chest ached. He could have ripped my heart from my body and caused me less pain. This wasn’t the Matteo I’d grown to care for. He’d never outright rejected me like this before.
I didn’t think I could handle this. I’d opened myself up to him. I never opened myself to anybody, but for Matteo, I was willing to give everything. I’d never felt this way about anyone. I’d altered my entire life to fit into his, and I’d only told him the truth because I wanted this to work. I needed it to work.
Had I been foolish to think I could have it all? To think I could have Matteo, Callum, and a family together?
I had to find a way to get him to speak to me. If he told me how to fix it, I would. I would do anything to make this right. I couldn’t take the cold shoulder. I couldn’t handle the way he looked at me with such dead, emotionless eyes.
“Then talk to me.” Please , I wanted to beg. Please give me something. Anything. Let me show you how much I care for you .
I couldn’t force more words from my lips. My throat felt tight with unshed tears, and I tried to clear it. I tried so damn hard to push the emotions away, but the thought of losing him because of this lie tore me apart in a way I couldn’t describe.
He opened his mouth, but he shut it immediately, shaking his head. “I’m not willing to talk about this right now. There are too many other important matters at hand. When we figure them out, we can talk.”
He went to turn away, but I grabbed his arm again, pulling him to a stop. I knew he could easily jerk away and continue forward, but he didn’t.
“I know why you’re shutting me out. I do. I did something fucked up, and I know it. But you have to understand why I made that decision. If anyone knew of his lineage, he wouldn’t be safe. Hell, if people learn about it now, he still won’t be safe. I didn’t want him to be part of this life. I still don’t. But there isn’t another choice. I want to be with you, Matteo. I want that so damn bad that I’m willing to risk everything.”
“There is always another choice. You chose wrong.”
But I didn’t think I had. I regretted my choice for the sake of Matteo. Matteo didn’t deserve this, but Callum was alive and thriving because of the decision I’d made three years ago. I wasn’t sure if I’d do it differently.
His eyes narrowed as he took a step forward. “You don’t think you chose wrong?” he asked. “I can see it on your fucking face. You don’t think you made a mistake.”
“There’s more to it than that,” I backtracked. I wouldn’t lie. Not again.
He scoffed. “What else is there?”
“If I would have stayed, what are the chances he would have been killed by an enemy or harmed by being in the wrong place at the wrong time? How many dead bodies would he have seen? How many weapons would he be exposed to? We were safe in Italy, and for the first two years of his life, I didn’t have to worry about anything other than making a home for us and bedtimes and naps each day. I do regret lying to you. I’ll regret it every day for the rest of my life. But I don’t regret keeping him safe. You have to believe that if you were the only factor, I would have chosen you every time.”
“He’s here now,” Matteo reminded me.
“This is where he’d be safest now. They killed my family and are hunting for me, so running isn’t an option. I need to be equipped to protect us, and I am as long as I stay here. This wasn’t a threat back then, so staying away was the best choice.”
I still couldn’t read him. I couldn’t read anything that he was thinking or feeling on his face. “If you don’t want to talk about it, fine,” I muttered, trying to hold back the tears that worked up the back of my throat. I took a step away from him. “I hate that I hurt you. You’re the only person aside from Callum I care about this deeply, but having a child means putting them first. I’ll continue doing that. He will always come first, and if that hurts you, I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry. But we can’t work through it if you won’t talk to me.”
My mind reeled around my options. What would I do if Matteo didn’t forgive me? What would I do if he wouldn’t so much as consider forgiving me? I knew that the truth would come between us, but I’d hoped we could work through it.
I hadn’t even considered what I’d do if he wasn’t willing to work through it.
His nearly black eyes bore into me. I didn’t think I was getting through to him, so I changed the subject, hoping to connect on something.
“Were the people you collected debts from today related to the war with the Russians?” I asked.
His cold expression shifted to something like curiosity. “Loosely,” he admitted.
I’d hoped I was wrong. I knew he was upset with me on a personal level, but this wasn’t personal. This was the second reason I’d stayed here. I stayed for him, and I stayed for revenge. He was closing himself off to me, but I thought I’d at least be included in our revenge plot.
“Okay,” I exhaled. “You can be pissed at me. I understand that you need time to cope with our personal issues. But I’m still here to do a job. I still plan on working with you to kill Vlad and Aelita. You’re not going to leave me out of the loop after I’ve gone this far.”
“I can handle it,” he finally replied, his jaw tensing.
I gaped at his words. He could handle it? There was no “he” in this situation. It was us. We’d publicly declared an alliance, and it had been my brother who had been killed. I was here for justice, and I had done everything to ensure that justice was done. The cold shoulder act had my chest throbbing with sadness, but I could handle it. I could justify that. I’d hurt him, and this was how he coped with it.
But this?
Shutting me out of this was going too far.
“You just told me that there are things that are more important than this situation with us, and those things require both of our attention. You don’t want to talk? Fine. But we’re here to work together.”
I found my breathing unsteady with frustration. The sadness morphed into confusion.
He turned his back on me, and I opened my mouth to protest, but Matteo spoke first. “Tomorrow, be ready to take care of business. Nine AM sharp. Bring your gun.”
Before I could reply, he opened his office door and slammed it shut behind him.
I didn’t know what to expect. I had lied to his face for a month, and I’d withheld information for three years before that. I knew he wouldn’t get over the betrayal easily. I couldn’t expect him to forgive me at the drop of a hat.
Knowing how badly I’d hurt him did something to me that I couldn’t explain. I grieved what we could have been if I hadn’t lied about Callum.
I strode back into the kitchen and took in Callum, only half done with his pancake.
“Daddy in there?” Callum asked, pointing toward the office.
Daddy.
The parts of me that I’d been holding together finally collapsed, and tears welled in my eyes along with the shattering of my heart. “Yeah, baby. He’s working.”
I turned away before Callum could see my tears, and I forced myself to breathe evenly.
I’d done this.
I couldn’t decide if telling him the truth had been the right thing to do, especially when the aftermath felt so wrong.
I’d sworn myself to the Italian mafia because I knew I’d have Matteo, but maybe that wasn’t the case anymore.