Chapter 12
MATTEO
I wish I was still there now. But I’m about to have a face-to-face with her father.
And on second thought, maybe I should have found another way to wake her up this morning.
Because I can still smell her on my fingers now and see her writhing body every time my mind wanders, hear her moans.
But that would be the case whether I had almost made her come this morning or not.
I’ve had Caputo put the Codellis in my old apartment, a penthouse downtown, and I’ve just arrived in the underground garage of the building.
Now I’m just sitting here in the Mustang, windows rolled down, staring at the grey concrete walls, smelling the faint scent of petrol and road dust. Thinking of Gianna so I don’t have to think about anything else.
Like how happy I was living in this building.
The parties, the women—movie stars, models, singers, you name it—the freedom.
It was all so long ago that I’d stopped remembering it.
But it’s all back in vivid color now. And it’s no longer the bitter, dark memory it was when I bottled it up, trying to forget the good times so I could survive my captivity with Moretti.
Because I’m so close to getting my revenge I can practically taste it.
And because I have Goldie now.
The other reason I’m just sitting here is plain old-fashioned nerves.
Dumb as it is, I feel like I’m about to meet my girlfriend’s father for the first time and I want to make a good impression.
It’s been a very long time since something like that was the case for me.
And there’s no way to make a good impression on Codelli, not after I helped bring him down, betrayed his trust in me, abducted his daughters, and am now holding him prisoner.
Six of my guys are upstairs taking turns watching the apartment and the building, making sure Codelli doesn’t try anything.
And my jitters are completely out of place.
I’m the one in charge now and the guy knows it.
So I roll the windows up, get out of the car and walk to the elevator. Feeling a lot like that first night I was brought to him. The night I saved Goldie from the Russians. The night Codelli made me his servant as a thank you. The night all this began.
I wouldn’t be here today if not for all that. I’d probably still be running around NYC trying to raise an army.
The elevator reaches the top of this fifty-two-story skyscraper, one of the tallest in LA, at what feels like light speed. Much too fast for my nerves.
The hallway is flooded with light, such a difference from the hallway where I had to serve Codelli. The penthouse has even more light. I hope he appreciates all that.
“Everything good?” I ask the two guys standing guard at the door.
“Yes, Boss,” Franco says while the other, Paulo, just nods.
“You want us to go in with you?” Franco asks as I start unlocking the door.
I shake my head. “I can handle an old man, two women and a sick bodyguard.”
Though I’m not completely sure that’s actually true, not with these men and women.
I open the door and walk in. Codelli and his wife and daughter are sitting on the sofa in the huge living room that takes up most of the downstairs and the ceiling of which rises all the way to the top of the building.
You hardly know you’re inside in this room, what with all the light and that view.
They all turn to me, a whoosh of so many negative emotions hitting me that I almost stumble backwards.
Instead, I focus on the view. You can see all the way to the beach from here, it’s why I chose this place as my own and I’m very glad I did right now.
“Good afternoon,” I say, and they mumble something back.
The women look tired, and both seem to have aged in the last few weeks since the attack.
Bianca Codelli’s face is gaunt, the skin hanging loose, betraying her age.
But her steel blue eyes are piercing me with the strength of a knife.
Lidia Codelli looks exactly like her twin sister Chiara.
Back when I still worked as the daughters’ bodyguard, she seemed much softer, much kinder and nicer than Chiara, but now she actually looks harder, more determined, and even angrier than her sister.
As for old man Codelli, the hate in his eyes feels like getting shot by a machine gun. Or one of those Tommy guns mobsters used back in the day, because his time is over. It’s my time now.
And I hold on tightly to that thought. It might just be enough to get me through this conversation.
“We have to talk,” I tell him. “Follow me.”
I lead the way to the small office next to the living room. It has the same gorgeous view of the ocean only in a more contained way.
I can hear him shuffling after me, breathing heavily and I wonder if it’s a good idea to ever turn my back on him.
But I have one of his daughters and Ferro has another.
Codelli wouldn’t have gotten to be one of the most powerful people in the New York underground if he didn’t know how to choose his battles.
I hold the study door open for him so he can enter the room first, then shut it firmly. He takes a seat in one of the white leather seats by the desk without waiting to be invited. It’s a clear show of disrespect and I could call him out on it. But I’ve never been petty like that.
“Why am I here?” he asks as I walk to one of the tall windows and turn my back on him again. That’s my own show of disrespect, signaling he’s of no consequence to me. Or something like it.
Truth is, I don’t want him to sense any weakness in me and that’s easier done when he’s not staring me down with his sharp brown eyes.
Him and Goldie have the same color eyes. But hers are never this black, this full of hate and revenge. I hope they never will be.
“You don’t like this penthouse?” I ask casually. “I thought you and your family would be more comfortable here than in some guesthouse with the rest of my soldiers. But you just say the word.”
I look at him over my shoulder. Being in charge of overseeing the family properties, I’ve dealt with a lot of proud, arrogant guys who thought they deserved more than they were getting.
And who thought they deserved to be dealt with by guys older than eighteen-year-old kids—which is how old I was when I took over.
But I brought them all to heel and I’m gonna do the same with this guy.
Why the fuck do I still want him to like me?
It’s never gonna happen anyway.
He doesn’t react well to my show of arrogant superiority, his face contorting into an ugly mask of hate.
“You take my daughter from me, keep her God knows where, do God knows what with her and then you put us up in this fuck pad and expect me to be, what, grateful?” he says, the hair on his head bouncing dangerously in his rage.
If he jumps at me, I’m gonna have to react so I hope it doesn’t come to that.
“Fuck pad?” I ask. “This used to be my home. Before you and the rest of the old school back in New York decided it was best to just take it all away from me, while making me a servant to the guy who destroyed my family.”
“Nothing was stopping you from trying to kill that guy,” he hisses.
“And die in the process? Was that your grand plan?” I ask. “Then you could swoop in, collect all our family assets and call it a day?”
I had entertained the idea of doing exactly that in the beginning—slitting Dante’s throat while he slept and getting my revenge that way.
There were days when I barely stopped myself from doing it and I can feel all that pent up rage of those days now, my palms actually itching.
But I had my sister’s fate to consider, and I figured I was spared to fight another day. And that day is finally dawning.
“I was the one who made it possible for you to keep everything,” he says. “I was the one who fought like hell to convince the others to let you live and to freeze all the assets for you to claim if you ever managed to rise again. I wish to hell I hadn’t done that now.”
His face is beet red now, and he’s shaking all over.
“Calm down, Gianna wouldn’t want you to have a heart attack now,” I say and that just makes his shaking worse and his face turn a few shades darker.
“If you had any kind of honor, you would return my daughter to me,” he says.
“She’s doing fine, just so you know, and you’ll get her back in one piece,” I say, unable to fight the smile that thinking about kissing her sweet body and fucking her sweet pussy always brings. “After you help me reclaim everything I’ve lost.”
I wonder if that’s actually true. Because I’ll never willingly surrender Gianna back to him. If nothing else, he’s as old school as they come and she’s been defiled by me. That’s how his reasoning goes. She’s worthless to him now, since he can’t marry her off to a decent man.
“Fact is, you should’ve just sent an army instead of making me Dante Moretti’s slave,” I add. “Then we wouldn’t be here right now. But all would still not be well in your world.”
“Enough talking,” he barks like he’s the one in charge. “Let’s get this little show of yours underway now. But your small army might not be enough. Moretti has grown powerful, and he has many powerful allies now.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I know. I was by his side all the time for seven years. But what do you know about it?”
For the first time since he came in here, he looks unsure. Like he said more than he meant to. Like he’s losing control. But then he steels his face again, rage flooding his eyes.
“I’ve kept tabs on you, kept a close watch, making sure Moretti was living up to his side of the bargain,” he says.
“I figured I owed your family that much. It’s why I hired you the moment you showed up in New York, citing you rescuing my daughters as giving me the right to.
Moretti was raising hell, wanting you back, but I refused.
I wish to Christ I’d been smarter than that. ”
I’d have to have a heart of stone not to appreciate this. I had no idea all this was going on in the background.
“Maybe if I’d known all that things would be different.” Not where Gianna is concerned. I’d still have stolen her from him. So I guess we are right where we’re supposed to be.
“There’s a meeting tonight,” I say. “Someone will come pick you up. I expect you to share everything you know about Moretti. The sooner he’s dealt with, the sooner you get your freedom.”
“And my daughters?”
“You better not fuck around for their sakes,” I say and walk to the door. “Be ready by six.”
Then I leave, only nodding quickly at the women before exiting the apartment.
I doubt Codelli lied to me about all the ways in which he tried to protect me.
I had no idea he did that, and I wish I didn’t know now.
It makes it harder to hate the guy. His grandfather was close to Eddo, my great-grandfather.
By all accounts they were as close as blood.
He should’ve done more to protect my family.
And now’s his chance to repay that outstanding debt.
As long as I think of it this way, I don’t have to worry about having betrayed him.
Because he’s never getting his daughter back. No matter how hard he fights for me now.