Chapter 17 #2
An invisible wave of embarrassment washed over me. I’d actually believed him. And he played me.
I looked at my brother for a moment. Really looked at him.
“You’ll help me get out?”
“I swear it.”
“Fine.” We shook hands. “When are we sitting down with him? I want to make it clear that this is nothing more than a temporary business contract for show.”
My father exchanged a look with Gìo. “Di’Ablo already agreed.”
I felt the inferno in my blood erupt into flames, and burn everything around me.
“HE WHAT?!”
The bass from the club floor thudded up through my heels, matching the pulse hammering in my chest. I didn’t even bother checking my reflection in the mirrored hallway – if I looked furious, good. I wanted him to see it.
Zach’s birthday. Of course. I should’ve known Matteo’s little brother would be celebrating while I was losing my mind trying to process what our families had just decided.
A marriage.
Mine.
To him.
By the time I reached the top of the stairs to the VIP section, I could already see them – Zach and Maria, Trev and Nat, Kali and Zane, the whole group lounging like nothing in the world was about to implode.
Zach had his arm slung over the back of the booth, laughing, completely unaware that I was about to start a war.
“ZACHARY!” My voice cracked over the beat, sharp enough to slice through the chatter. Heads turned. Conversations stopped. Every ounce of fury that had been boiling inside me since Gìovanni broke the news exploded right there. “I am going to gut you like a fish, then feed it to you!”
Zach blinked at me like I’d just grown another head. He glanced at Maria, instantly on the defensive.
“What did you do now?” she asked, crossing her arms.
“Nothing!”
“Mhm.”
“Baby, I swear–”
I stormed up the stairs, every step echoing. “Did you know?!”
He looked annoyed now. “Know what?”
I didn’t stop until I was standing dead center in their little circle. “That he was going to marry me!”
The room went still. One of our friends muttered “What?” but I was too angry to even know who.
My pulse roared in my ears. “Mark my words, when I find that motherfucker, I’m going to put his head on a stick–”
“You think I wanted this?”
That voice. Low. Smooth. Infuriating.
It sent goosebumps down my arms.
I turned, and there he was. Matteo stepped out from behind one of those damn velvet curtains like he owned the place – which I guess he did since he not only owned the club, but the entire building – every inch of him calm, collected, untouchable.
The lavender light hit the edge of his jaw, turning it sharp enough to cut glass.
My heart stuttered, but my rage didn’t falter. A bitter laugh escaped me. “Oh, I bet you just couldn’t wipe that stupid fucking smirk off your face when you found out!”
He gave me that Diablo look – the one that always made people feel small. “Think you’re talking about yourself.”
My fists clenched. God, I wanted to slap him. He’d probably enjoy it.
“If you think this will be anything but a business partnership, you’re delusional.”
He leaned in slightly, just enough that I had to tilt my chin up to meet his eyes. “Relax, princesa,” he said softly, that mocking curve still on his lips. “I’m in my prime.”
I saw red.
Then, as if the universe wanted to humiliate me further, a voice floated in from behind him.
“Matteo?”
A woman appeared from behind the curtain – tall, gorgeous, confident. The kind of woman who I always thought he’d end up with. Latin, sensual, and with that cool Miami vibe I didn’t have.
“They’re about to bring out the bottles,” she said, smiling softly like she wasn’t walking into an emotional nuclear detonation.
Matteo exhaled, bored, like this whole thing was beneath him. Then he leaned in closer – just an inch, but it felt like a threat.
“We’ll talk.”
And just like that, he was gone. With her.
I stood there, fists at my sides, trying not to let the tremor in my hands show. The music started to fill the silence again, but it felt muffled, like I was underwater.
Zach frowned at me, still looking confused. “I thought your father didn’t care about marriage?”
Trevor raised a brow. “You not going for the Underboss title anymore?”
I forced myself to take a breath. “Gìovanni was right. The other families won’t accept it. No matter how much profit I bring in.”
“So, naturally, you have to marry Matteo.” Maria threw her hands up – also not the biggest fan of Zach’s brother.
I gave an incredulous laugh. “As much as I hate admitting it, he’s right. If the Family’s money goes down, so does the Cartel’s.” I swallowed my pride. “Matteo and I… We’ll marry. For a year. Then… We’ll divorce.”
“What about the Cosa Nostra then? Won’t you have the same problem? Also, don’t they want an Italian husband for you?”
I ran an absent hand over my dress, smoothing it out. “No one will question me once I’m Underboss. My family and I will be too powerful. And as for Matteo not being Italian, they actually agreed on that. They think it’ll get them more leverage over the Cartel and drugs coming in.”
“Not a chance,” Zach spoke definitely.
“I know that.”
“So… I guess congratulations are in order?” Natalia raised a brow.
Trevor huffed. “More like condolences.”
Laughter started to ripple again, soft and uncertain. And slowly, the room loosened, returning to birthday energy. But I couldn’t join in. Not yet.
Because even as I stood there, surrounded by friends, the echo of Matteo’s voice lingered in my head.
And I knew this wasn’t the end of the fight – just the beginning.
Because whatever had happened between Matteo and I in Hawaii and Vegas…
It was all over now.