Chapter 21
MATTEO
She didn’t wear black. Didn’t wear gold either. She chose a striking emerald green number with a flowing neckline and a luxurious length that reminds me of old Hollywood actresses—the ones my grandfather and great-grandfather had plenty of pictures with. And stories about.
I didn’t want to say anything, didn’t want to question her choice so as not to spook her and send her changing into something black.
Because I think the dress means she’s turned some sort of a page in her book of hatred and anger at me.
I can’t wait until she closes that book altogether.
But maybe that’s not even a realistic hope.
But I’ll be extra careful not to rip this dress tonight.
Although my Goldie doesn’t strike me as the type of woman who wears the same evening dress twice.
Which is just fine, because I’ll buy her as many dresses as she wants for as long as I can.
We’re in the back of one of the Rolls Royces and Caputo is driving. We have another car of guys at the back and one in front.
Now that Moretti knows I’m here and what I’m after—his head, or better yet, his still-beating heart in my fist—he might strike at any time.
He doesn’t have any honor and if he thinks I’m getting too strong, he will attack when I least expect it.
That’s always been his way of fighting wars.
Too bad for him that I expect it all the time, day and night, anywhere I go.
He taught me that lesson the first time around.
So I’m not making the mistake of underestimating his cowardice and immorality.
He will play dirty. That’s his whole game.
“You know, the diamond ring would go very well with this outfit,” I say as we’re inching along on the highway. I really should’ve kept my mouth shut, since she seems to be in a pretty good mood. But I couldn’t.
“Why? Do you want your sister to see it?” she asks.
I shrug. “Didn’t even think of that, but yeah, maybe she’d like to. It was our mother’s.”
And she wore it all the time. Despite how huge it is.
She wore it on the night she died. My father wanted her buried in it, but Nonna stopped him.
That ring had been hers before it was my mother’s.
And so on back several generations. For all the good it’s gonna do me, it might as well have stayed on my mom’s hand when they buried her.
The look she’s giving me is full of pity, the kind of look I’d grown to hate in the months and years following my mother’s death, because everyone would give it to me and my siblings. But I kind of don’t mind it from Goldie.
“You know why I didn’t take it,” she says quietly. “Because of the curse.”
As if she needs to keep reminding me.
I grin at her. “Yes, I know. It was to keep me alive.”
She purses her lips and turns away from me.
We’re finally off the highway, driving down a lonely stretch of road bordered only by sun-dried fields, a few condemned and abandoned buildings and finally a diner which looks just as decrepit as everything else down this road, but is somehow still open for business.
“Are we going into the desert to meet your sister or something?” she asks. “You could’ve told me not to wear heels.”
I lean across the center console and point out a black, modern building further down the road in front of us. “That’s where we’re going. It’s the headquarters of Rogue Angels MC, the biker club my sister’s boyfriend belongs too.”
“Rogue Angels?” she says. “That name probably sounds a lot nicer than what they actually are. Aren’t bikers usually just a bunch of wild criminals? And I heard they don’t treat women very well.”
She actually looks genuinely concerned. For my sister, it seems like.
“Not this one,” I say. “Their mission is to bring as many criminals to justice as they can find. They hunt down those that the cops can’t find.”
“Sounds noble,” she says.
“Yeah, noble, that’s one way to describe their president, Rogue. And I guess Blade too,” I say.
“Blade is my sister’s boyfriend, the vice president of the club,” I add to answer the question in her eyes.
Though from what I hear, the club has veered away from their law-abiding ways in the last year or so, and become something like Goldie was just worrying that they are.
Not sure how or why that happened, but I’m hoping it’ll make them more interested in helping me out.
I bet at least Blade will want to get some sort of revenge on Moretti for what he did to Bella just a few weeks ago.
I don’t see a reason to tell Goldie all that though. She seems skeptical enough about this whole thing already. Especially after a black gate in the huge wall surrounding the Rogue Angels MC property opens for us… and then promptly closes as soon as we’re inside it.
“Come on. You don’t have anything to worry about,” I say then exit the car to go open her door for her.
“I’m here,” I add as I help her out of the car.
“I’m not afraid,” she whispers angrily, but her wide eyes and quick breathing say something different.
We’re parked in front of a rectangular building with black tinted windows and the large parking lot all around us is filled with bikes of all shapes and sizes.
Maybe I shouldn’t have brought her here.
Her life until now has been pretty apartments and beach houses, fancy restaurants and even fancier department stores.
This might be too much of the real world for Goldie.
But her eyes are sparkling, so maybe she’s a little excited to be here too.
The door at the side of the building opens and Rogue walks out.
I haven’t seen him in years, but he doesn’t look much different than he did back then—dark haired, bright-eyed, and generally looking like the whole world is his stage.
Blade comes out after him—shaved head and a hard stare, his signature look.
Goldie grips my forearm tighter as I walk towards them.
“Matteo Rovina, welcome,” Rogue says loudly, probably for the benefit of all the other club members that must be in the room behind him. “I can’t wait to hear to what we owe the pleasure of your visit. And in such numbers.”
He glances at the five men I brought with me, including Nico, Caputo, Francesco and two others.
“You’re not scared of us, are you?” Blade asks in his calm, deep voice.
Before I can answer, my sister Isabella comes out too, squeezing between the two men and smiling at me. But her eyes are wary.
“Stop being such hard asses and invite them in,” she tells Rogue and Blade, then waves at Nico, who waves right back like they’re teenagers and this isn’t a serious meeting.
“Come on in,” Rogue says and stands aside to clear the way through the wide-open door.
Isabella is looking at Goldie now, the expression in her eyes undecipherable. There’s sadness there, but also some kind of joy and a lot of happy disbelief as she locks eyes with me. Maybe even some pity.
“It’s good to see you again, Matteo,” she says. “I didn’t think I would so soon.”
“I didn’t either,” I say. “Things are moving faster than I expected.”
Goldie squeezes my arm tighter. It feels like a warning of some sort, but she doesn’t look scared when I glance at her. She looks angry at me. But I didn’t come here to figure out what women are thinking. I was never very good at that anyway.
I take Goldie’s hand and peel it off my arm.
“This is my sister, Isabella,” I tell her then turn to my sister. “And this is Gianna Codelli.”
Gianna offers my sister her hand, but Isabella just pulls her into a huge hug, muttering something in her ear that I can’t quite figure out. Goldie looks surprised at this welcome, but happy too. And that’s good enough for me.
“Get to know each other,” I tell them then turn to Rogue and Blade. “And I’d like a word.”
“OK, follow us,” Rogue says, and Gianna does look after me, but not in a way that makes me think I can’t leave her alone with my sister.
Rogue leads the way through a packed barroom filled with tables and sofas and even a pool table at the back.
Everything looks much cleaner and more well-kept than I’d expect to see in a biker club—Goldie wasn’t wrong, those places are usually not the kind of places you want to visit.
And the men and women in here all look a lot more well-kept than I’d expect bikers to be too.
A blonde and a guy with glasses, who looks like he’d be more comfortable in an office if it weren’t for his bulky muscles, follow us through this main room.
On the way there we pass the only guy who truly looks like he belongs in an outlaw biker gang.
His arms, neck and even parts of his face are covered in tattoos and he’s giving me a very icy glare, with clear warnings that I better behave or else, but he doesn’t follow us.
I tell Nico, Francesco, and the other two to watch over Goldie, and only take Caputo with me as we follow Rogue down a narrow hallway and into a conference room of sorts.
The table in here looks like it can seat twelve and the whiteboard covered by photos, maps, scribbled notes, and surveillance photos tells me that this is where they do most of their work.
From the photos it looks like they’re running surveillance on some sort of a high-end operation.
The photos are mostly of cars with black tinted windows and fit guys with shades.
With any luck it’s Hydra, the group that Moretti is in bed with.
Rogue takes a seat at the head of the table and motions for the rest of us to sit too. Caputo remains standing just behind my chair.
“So, you sounded very cryptic about the reason for this visit on the phone,” Rogue says to me after I take a seat a few chairs down from him. “But I gather you want our help with something.”