Chapter Twenty-Three
Lilianna Genovese
I rode in the backseat of a blacked-out sedan, Matteo’s leg brushing mine each time the car jostled us, but he didn’t glance over at me. He didn’t grab my thigh or make a seductive comment as he’d been doing for the past month.
Matteo had gone dark, focusing only on the task at hand.
“Where are we going?” I finally asked, leaning into the door as I looked over at him.
He spared me only a brief glance. “A pawn shop in Brooklyn.”
The cold shoulder sent another pang of sadness through my chest. “Are you ready to talk?”
When he didn’t reply, I fixed my gaze on the seat in front of me, trying to keep the tears at bay. I leaned further away from him. How was it possible that the connection we’d had three days ago had faded into this ?
“I want things to be okay between us,” I whispered to him.
No reply.
It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it certainly increased the ache of sadness deep inside me. We soon pulled to the side of the road, and the driver gestured for us to get out of the car.
Matteo didn’t hesitate, so I didn’t either. I straightened my shoulders and untucked my shirt to hide the holster at my hip. I stepped from the car, and the moment I closed the door, the driver sped off, turning into the nearest underground garage. I followed on Matteo’s heels, eyeing his muscular back. I envisioned my hands wrapping around and clutching the muscles there, stroking them.
I shook off the thought, cementing my resolve.
I’d lost enough over the past month that this should have felt infinitesimal, yet I still longed for things to return to the way they’d been just before telling him the truth.
The door to the pawn shop chimed as Matteo pushed through it, and a wrinkled Native American woman with a hunched back hobbled forward, looking between us. She immediately reached for the door and flicked it locked, turning the “open” sign to “closed”. Her gnarled hands proved that she’d spent many years doing some sort of hard labor, and her hoarse voice as she spoke revealed something similar.
“We’ve got everything ready for you,” she said, moving toward the back of the shop.
The smell of herbs came from a smoking pot beside the register, and I crinkled my nose.
She opened a back door that read “employees only” and guided us inside. It looked like an ordinary stockroom with boxes piled to the ceiling on one side and a desk that was likely used for appraisals on the other wall. Documents cluttered the desk, and I saw nothing amiss.
I considered asking what we were here for, but I didn’t have the chance.
The woman’s long black braid shifted as she reached for a candle sconce on the wall and tugged it downward. A panel on the wall slid to the side, revealing a compartment that hadn’t been noticeable to the naked eye. The seams had blended into the wall, and I followed Matteo inside.
Three boxes sat alone in the room, and Matteo strode forward, opening the top one. Small bags of white powder sat stacked inside the boxes, and he pulled them out, inspecting them carefully, one box at a time.
“Cocaine?” I asked as he sealed the third box.
“Yes.”
I licked my lips as I considered this heinous side of the mafia—the side that I had never wanted to involve myself in. The Italian mafia was the number one supplier of cocaine and heroin in the northeastern United States. Matteo handled most of the cocaine, and my father had been a large dealer of heroin. Different Dons controlled different substances.
“Do you ever… sample the merchandise?” I asked.
My father had. He hadn’t been an addict, but I’d seen him high a handful of times over the years. Sometimes I’d see the needle marks in his arms days later, and I knew what he’d done. But it had never come as a surprise.
“It’s not good business practice,” Matteo scoffed, placing a hand atop the boxes and looking at the woman. “Have the driver load this into the car.”
She nodded and left the room, giving me one last glance.
“Does this have to do with the Russians?” I asked.
He looked me up and down. “You took over for your father. We’re working together on more than just the Russians’ assassinations.” He paused, raising his brows. “Or was I wrong to assume that you’re taking on more responsibility now? Did you lie to the men who swore themselves to you, too?”
“Matteo—”
He didn’t wait around as he turned and left me behind in the room.
I hadn’t read through the files on my partnership with Matteo. It had been last on my mental to-do list.
The driver moved into the room, giving me a nod as he grabbed one of the boxes and moved from the room. I followed, scanning the store for Matteo. He stood at a side door and held it open for the driver.
I didn’t bother looking at him as I strode past and followed the driver back to the car. I supposed that talking wouldn’t be on the table today. Even as I felt Matteo’s gaze on my back, I continued walking away, using the driver as a guide to the car. When he popped the trunk and loaded the first box, I slid into the backseat and made myself comfortable.
I waited, lost in thought, as I slouched in the seat and lifted my knees to rest on the seat before me. I closed my eyes and leaned back with a deep sigh.
The disconnect between us only grew as we spent more time together today. I could understand the separation between work and his private life. He didn’t have to show me affection, but we were supposed to be working together. Nobody would see us as cooperative leaders if he continued shutting me out. If he continued talking down to me the way he had today.
I couldn’t trust him to work alongside me as a partner, I couldn’t trust him to inform me when he got information about the Russians, and I couldn’t trust any level of civility to remain between us.
Could I trust that I would take part in this plan for revenge, or would he take it upon himself to kill Vlad and Aelita?
Would he leave me out entirely?
If he wouldn’t work with me to avenge my brother, could I trust him to work with me to keep Callum safe? Would he inform me of a threat to Callum’s life, or would he take it into his own hands to handle?
I didn’t think he’d intentionally hurt Callum, but could I trust him to be honest about what we were facing?
He’d shown no interest in involving me in the hunt for the Russians. Though my father’s men had sworn themselves to me, I knew the information would flow through Matteo first. Until they trusted me more, Matteo would be in control.
I’d united our people, but it didn’t seem like I was needed for more than that.
The door opened, and Matteo slid into the car seconds before the driver. “Ready, boss?” he asked.
“Go.”
I had no interest in staying with the Don. I wanted to stay with Matteo—the Matteo I’d grown up with. The one who smiled and teased. Who showed interest in me.
Not this man.
“Where are we taking this?” I asked as we pulled back onto the street.
“One of the few businesses that the Russians haven’t interfered with,” he stated factually.
“Matteo,” I pushed, reaching a hand toward him. He tensed as it landed on his shoulder. I pulled it away slowly and bit my lip, thinking better of asking him to talk to me again. I’d begged so many times, but it had gotten me nowhere. I didn’t know what else to do.
He stared forward for long moments as I took in every inch of his steely face. The only indication of his thoughts was the occasional clenching of his jaw, but he said nothing. Even as the car stopped, he said nothing.
The driver pulled up to the local library, not even putting the car in park before popping open the trunk. The door to a large van slid open, and two men stormed out, grabbing the boxes and throwing them in the back. A woman followed them, her long blonde hair making her look like anything but a criminal. If anything, I would have pegged her as a preschool teacher.
Matteo stepped out of the car, pulling away from my hand without hesitation.
Fine.
If he wanted to be cold, I could do the same.
I got out of the car, too. I made my way around it just in time to see the woman handing over a wad of cash and backing into her van. It peeled away, and I leaned into the car door as Matteo turned to get back in, tucking the money in his pocket.
“I’m done,” I admitted to him. “I’m done watching you act like this. You’re either going to talk to me, or I’m not getting back in the car.”
I needed him to acknowledge me. I needed something from him. Maybe I wanted proof that I was relevant here. Proof that he cared enough about my connection to the Russians to include me in his plotting.
I needed proof that there was a reason to stay. Because after today, I wasn’t sure he would include me in the revenge I’d wanted since my family’s deaths.
“You will get back in the car,” he snarled, his eyes going dark with anger.
Anger was a start. At least it was an emotion. It was more than he’d shown me in days.
“Why are you so angry?” I asked. “You know why I did it, don’t you? You have to understand.”
“Understanding your motivations means nothing.”
“It means everything!” I finally shouted. “If you understood, you wouldn’t be giving me the cold shoulder! I’ve tried everything, Matteo. I’m sorry. I’ve told you that. I hate that I hurt you, and I don’t know what to do to make it better.”
“I can understand your motivations and still fucking hate you for it,” he seethed with a low tone. He didn’t raise his voice, but I felt the potency of his words.
Did he really hate me? It felt like a blow to my chest, and I couldn’t draw in a full breath for a moment.
He continued. “I can hate you for not trusting me. I know why you did it. I get what went through your head, but I’ll never understand why you betrayed me by keeping my son a secret. I lost two years with him because of your selfish need for control. It’s a lie that never should have happened.”
He pinned my body to the car with his. Though his warmth seeped into me, I still felt cold. I hadn’t ever seen his eyes so dark. Not until right now. It sent a chill down my spine as I wondered how far I could push him. I wasn’t sure he could go any further without exploding.
“I don’t know what to say to you, Lilianna. If anyone else had betrayed me in this way, they’d be dead. I don’t let people lie to me and deceive me, and that’s what you’ve been doing since you’ve been home. You lied. And you don’t regret a damn thing.”
“I regret making you feel this way.”
He threw his arms up and took a step back. “But you don’t regret what you did!”
“You shouldn’t regret it either. He’s safe because of me!”
Matteo tipped his head back and took a few steps away before turning and pointing at me. “And you never gave me the chance to be a part of that decision, did you? You never let me keep him safe.”
I couldn’t deny that. I had made that decision, and it had been the right one at the time. The outcome had been worth it. There was no saying that the outcome would have been the same if I’d chosen to tell Matteo.
“Get in the car, Lilianna,” he said. “Go home. We can talk about this when I have more time to think.”
“You’ve had days to think,” I reminded him, shaking my head in disappointment. “And you haven’t come up with anything to say. I don’t need you to forgive me, but…I didn’t expect you to admit to hating me.”
I didn’t give him time to reply as I opened the door and jumped into the car, closing the door behind me. The driver rolled down his window, and I briefly heard Matteo tell him to bring me home. The driver put the car in drive and pulled away from the library. My teary gaze fixed on his stiff back through the rear-view mirror, but he didn’t glance back. Not even once.
He was too hurt.
He would never forgive me.
All of this heartache and death had me missing the safest place I’d ever been. I missed home. I missed Italy more than anything. I missed my cousins and distant relatives. I missed the food and the carefree atmosphere. It was easy to forget about it when I’d had Matteo at my side, giving me everything that I needed, but that wasn’t the case anymore.
I was here because I needed to avenge my family. I needed to be here for Matteo as he processed everything.
But he hated me.
He had no desire to include me in his plans
Russians had infiltrated his house once, and they could do it again. Yet knowing that, he hadn’t been home in days. He’d left me and Callum alone. Sure, there were guards. But there had been guards when we’d been attacked the first time, too.
He couldn’t protect Callum when we couldn’t stand to be in the same room as one another.
Was there really any reason to stay in New York?
I’d done what was needed to do to get revenge, and while I wanted to be here, I didn’t think Matteo would include me. I’d united my people and put all the gears in motion. Matteo was the one they trusted anyway. He didn’t want to be near me, so I couldn’t trust him to keep us safe.
Matteo could handle the rest. He’d kill Vlad and Aelita before long.
I wouldn’t stay where I wasn’t wanted.