Chapter Six
Matteo
E miliano stares at me, a slow smile spreading across his face, and then he bursts out laughing. He laughs so hard his entire body shakes and he clutches his chest with his hand.
Enzo throws me a concerned glance that I don’t return. I expected a reaction along these lines.
“You’re more than just your good looks, Matteo. Who’d have thought you were a comedian as well?”
“What makes you think I’m joking?”
He stops laughing and his smile drops off his face, replaced by a severe expression I know all too well. My father may be the Don and my brother his heir, but Emiliano Marchesani holds as much, if not more, power than both of them combined.
Rocco is my father’s second in command. Under him, the Famiglia spiders into three branches, each helmed by a different caporegime . I lead the remaining Leones and our foot soldiers. Aldo Romano leads the second branch and is firmly in my father’s pocket. Emiliano leads the third and largest branch. Because of their power, my father has purposefully kept them out of his inner circle, near ostracizing them these past few years. It’s the reason why I believe he’ll want to align himself with me.
“You can’t possibly take them both on and win. Not even with me as your ally.”
“Let’s speak objectively for now. Through his leadership, my father has driven the Famiglia almost completely into the ground, and we both know Rocco is far more interested in cutting up animals and mutilating women to do any better.”
Emiliano watches me and makes no move to interrupt me, so I continue.
“This enterprise used to rule the Underworld with an iron fist. I may have been too young to remember it, but I know you do. We had a monopoly of the market. Whatever other organizations existed, they bent the knee to us . We put this city on the map, the Italians did,” I argue forcefully. “Fucking that up should have been near impossible, and yet that’s exactly what’s happened over the past ten years. Our profits are down anywhere from twenty to thirty percent in any given quarter, and those numbers are continuing to trend downwards.”
“More importantly, we’re facing irrelevancy and obsolescence if we don’t do something to stop the bleeding. Thiago da Silva and the Colombians are killing us on the drugs side. Darko Mitrovic may be a recluse but he and the Serbians are growing every day, getting guns in from the East. Where we were once the impregnable fortress in the Underworld, we’re starting to look like a relic. My father has left the doors wide open for competitors, and they’ve walked in, helped themselves to the food in our kitchen and made themselves right at home in our fucking beds,” I snarl.
Emiliano nods along solemnly, but he’s not so easily convinced. “Pretty speech Matteo, but you’ve been back a year and a half,” he points out. “If you’re so concerned about the state of the Famiglia , why haven’t you done anything?”
“I am,” I say, tipping my chin at him. “Right fucking now. This is how I’m doing something about it. I’ve tried having this conversation with my father and brother, to no avail. Augusto thinks we’re simply navigating rough waters.”
Emiliano crosses his arms. “And you don’t?”
The fact that he hasn’t put a bullet in my brain and walked out is a good sign. I keep going.
“I might, if it wasn’t for recent developments.” My jaw shifts side to side. “Three Leone cousins dead and dumped with no accompanying message as to who’s behind the attacks. It’s one thing to turn around a business, but another one altogether to fight an invisible enemy who’s slowly picking us off one by one.”
Whoever has been killing my cousins is unintentionally playing right into my hand. Not only in getting rid of truly useless members of my family, but also by inadvertently destabilizing my father’s reign and opening up yet another wound for me to pick at.
Emiliano chuckles, the sound deep and raw. It raises the hair on my neck, but I show him no reaction. “I’ve noticed it’s a tough time to be a Leone these days.” An evil smirk pulls at his lips. “Why shouldn’t I just let this all play out?” he asks. “Let whoever is coming for your family continue to do so until you’re all dead and my path is clear?”
I grin. “Because you don’t have an heir.”
His smile drops. Emiliano has two children, including one son, Luca, and it’s poking at the bear with a flaming pitchfork to bring him up. Luca disowned his family, announcing he had no interest in the Mafia, and became a chef. As far as I know, he hasn’t spoken to any of the Marchesanis in years.
Emiliano may very well decide shooting me between the eyes for bringing this up is worth the headache it’ll cause.
“Watch yourself, Leone,” Emiliano warns, his tone furious.
“I mean no disrespect, caporegime ,” I say, tilting my head and addressing him formally to cool him off. I haven’t been working on this plan for years just to blow it inches from the finish line by pissing off a trigger-happy old man. “I’m simply being pragmatic. Marina can never be the head of the Famiglia , that’s a fact and not one I won’t bring up simply because it displeases you. If we’re to be allies, we need to be truthful with each other. I know I intend to be.”
Emiliano bares his teeth at me and takes a step forward. “Then what is your plan, Matteo? And tell me quickly before I decide I’ve had enough of you. Your father won’t kill me for slitting your throat once I tell him about your mutinous ideations.”
“Betroth her to me.”
That surprises him. His face relaxes and he steps back. “What?”
“Let me marry Marina,” I explain. “Your branch is the largest, but mine is the most profitable. If we unite our families together when I overthrow my father, we’ll be able to avoid a civil war. The Leones will follow me and the Marchesanis will follow you. The others will fall in line.”
The added bonus of this plan is that Marina Marchesani is undoubtedly beautiful.
Try as I might, I can’t seem to conjure her to mind.
Try as I might, I don’t see red hair and a blue gaze when I close my eyes. I see brown, glossy hair, hazel eyes and a full mouth.
Now I’m faced with the difficult and completely improbable situation of having a hard, throbbing cock because of one woman as I negotiate my marriage to another.
Cursing under my breath, I try conjuring images to mind that’ll kill my erection, to no avail. I’m starting to think that sinking into her mouth, pussy, or ass is the only way I’m going to get her out of my system once and for all.
“Matteo?” Emiliano calls. His tone suggests this isn’t the first time he’s said my name, but it’s the first time I hear him.
When our eyes meet, I expect to see anger but only catch clear interest in his gaze. Enzo, meanwhile, glares at me over his shoulder.
“Apologies,” I say for the second time in this conversation. Internally, I grit my teeth. Melody can’t become a distraction. “As I was saying, Marina will be my queen. More importantly, our children, and thus your heirs, will inherit.”
“How do I know you’ll be any different a leader than your father and brother?”
I spread my arms to either side of me. “The fact that I took the risk of having this conversation with you should be enough. If not, then the fact that I realize there’s a problem and want to fix it should. If that’s still not enough, then as I mentioned, my branch is our most profitable. I have the knowledge, the skill, and frankly, the rage, to pull this off.”
His gaze is assessing, like he’s trying to decide something. After a while, he says, “How will this work? I understand what an alliance between our families would do, but how will you actually take down your father and brother?” He lifts a brow at me. “They won’t go quietly.”
“We do nothing for now, including not proceeding with the engagement just yet. They’re doing an excellent job of burying themselves. Time is our best weapon right now — let whoever is picking off my cousins continue to do so until their point is made, let my father and brother continue to weaken the Famiglia themselves, let our numbers keep falling. Pretty soon, they’ll be weak beyond salvation and the opportunity will present itself, I guarantee it.” I smirk slowly. “And just like they let our competitors stroll into the Underworld, we’ll walk in and grab the crown from their hands without waging war.”
I let those words land between us, my unflinching gaze never leaving Emiliano’s. This may be just a conversation to him, but it’s been years in the making for me. It’s all I’ve thought about since I was eighteen. All I’ve worked on since I came back to London.
I wait for him to make a decision, doing my best to keep my breathing even. There are backup plans if he walks away, but they’re bloodier and messier, and that’s not my style. I staunchly believe in not getting my hands dirty unless it’s absolutely necessary. In almost all situations, I can find at least five solutions before I ever resort to violence.
Finally, he extends his hand. I see Enzo’s chest heave as he takes a deep, incredulous breath.
I slip my hand in Emiliano’s and hold it. “We have a deal?”
“I have one condition.” His eyes darken, a violent expression crossing his face. His hand crushes mine in his, but I don’t flinch. “If you humiliate my daughter, Matteo,” he growls, voice vibrating in warning. “I’ll take everything you care about from you. That’s a promise, not a threat. You’ll marry and honor my daughter or you’ll lose everything.”
For some reason, my stomach twists. I fully plan on marrying Marina, so his threat shouldn’t mean anything to me.
“I’ll marry your daughter, Emiliano. I guarantee it.”
Whatever he sees in my face, it must satisfy him. He pumps my hand one final time, then releases me.
“We’ll stay in touch.”
“As needed. Our behavior can’t change. My father and brother aren’t entirely stupid. They’ll notice if we’re suddenly seen together after two years of ignoring each other.”
He nods. “Of course.”
Emiliano walks off, his security in tow. His journey back to the door is illuminated by hundreds of hanging twinkle lights, adding a fantasy-like quality to his departure.
He stops halfway to the door and turns back towards me, giving me one last appraising look.
“I haven’t seen this side of you before, Matteo. I may have misjudged you.” He tips his chin at me. “Welcome to the game. It’s about time you joined.”
Unlike my father and brother, I’m not a brutal killer. I don’t relish in wreaking public pain and humiliation. I stay to the side and play up my disarming smiles to look as nonthreatening as possible.
I’m regarded as the second, forgotten son, and am largely overlooked. That’s played in my favor.
But I lived in a home with two sociopaths and I grew up in the middle of a violent, bloody, criminal organization.
The harmless exterior isn’t a reflection of the man on the inside. The ruse is up and they’re all about to see the real me.