18. Matilde
Matilde
The following night, I'm still shaken to the core by what happened in his bedroom. "Unless you want a lesson in what you were trying, and failing, to accomplish a moment ago, I suggest you leave my bedroom." Is it wicked to admit I regret not challenging him to give me that lesson?
Then, there was the strange dream I had. The nightmare was awful but familiar until I dreamt Nico comforted me. He held me in my bed. Was it a dream? "I will kill them all for you." I must have imagined that.
"Do you think I imagined it?" I ask the twins. Their sweet little faces stare back at me with no answers. "What shall we read next?" I ask, selecting another picture book.
“Matilde?” Nico’s deep voice calls outside the nursery door. “It's time for us to go. Are you sure you won’t join us?”
Stifling a yelp, I watch him walk in, acting as if nothing unusual happened last night while I've been avoiding him all day. The man tortures and kills people, Matilde. I doubt what he caught you doing fazed him one bit.
His scar does nothing to detract from his handsomeness in my opinion, but his intense smoldering look leaves me unable to meet his stern gaze, especially when I intend to disobey him tonight.
“Thank you, but I will study.” Zeta invited me to dinner, too, but my upcoming finals made a plausible excuse, and the Old Capo’s health is very poor.
“I would not want to be in the way of your family time.”
“Very well. Graduation is next weekend. Would you like a party?”
Thinking of the house full of strangers from last time, I quickly decline. “One party was enough for me.”
“I vow not to invite any latex balloons to this one.” It takes me a moment to catch his dry wit before I snort, still shaking my head.
“You can have as many parties as you like, Matilde. No matter what your mother once said…” His eyes flick to my bracelet, and I feel compelled to touch the charm.
He clears his throat. “I would never deny you a party if you wished for one.”
“But you deny me trips to the movies and pizza with friends.”
His expression tightens. “We live by different rules than outsiders, Matilde. You know that.”
“I do not make these rules.”
“No, but I do. We are at war, and you are under my protection. I intend to keep you safe.”
“As you say… sir.” I can’t say why I continue to goad him with ‘sir’ when he is always Nico in my mind.
With a sharp nod, he picks up the children and leaves. I ignore how unhappy the discord between us makes me feel. I’m seeing my sister tonight. Why should I care if the asshole I work for is displeased?
***
An hour later, I’m getting ready with Maddalena at her apartment. Considering I climbed down the trellis outside my bedroom and scaled the garden wall to escape, I couldn't wear a dress. “You look hot as fudge in that,” my sister says once I've changed into one of her dresses.
“Fudge?”
“You know what I mean,” Maddalena giggles, raising her eyebrows. Once I catch on, I laugh, too, before turning back to the slim mirror tacked up to her bedroom door, checking out my curves in the sexy little black dress. “Where did you get the knife, Mat?”
“It was… a gift.” I might’ve snuck out, but I won’t walk around Chicago unarmed again. I tuck it into a small handbag of Maddalena's. “Where did you get these dresses?” I ask her, admiring the nearly identical one she chose.
“My friend. He's helping me get into modeling. Oof, I hope I didn’t jinx it.”
“Is he an agent?”
“No, but he knows people. He’s arranging a private runway showcase for me. I’ll get to wear one of these dresses and the shoes.”
“Yes, the shoes,” I comment, staring at the designer high heels I’ve borrowed as well. “What is a private runway showcase?”
Mad hums to herself while applying lipstick.
“Just a chance to strut my stuff for talent scouts and modeling agents, I think.
Modeling is bound to beat what I earn cleaning houses for Mrs. Esposito.
I'll be able to support us both, and we can get our own place. Maybe you could model, too, if you like.”
“It sounds… nice." But a little too much like a daydream. "How did you come to live with her? She is not family.”
“I had no family until you found me, Mat. Mom was estranged from our grandparents, and they died before we came long, so Nico arranged it.”
“Nico?”
“Yeah, I don’t know the details, but he asked her to take me in after…” She trails off, thinking of our mother’s death, no doubt.
Looking at the shabby apartment and thinking how this Mrs. Esposito is never home but expects my sister to work many hours per week cleaning houses when she is still in high school, I feel my anger stirring. Does Nico know? Would he even care? Mr. I-Make-the-Rules Mob Boss probably wouldn’t.
“What does your friend want in return?” I ask, worriedly.
“Nothing. He says I’ll make back the cost of the clothes and shoes in no time. He says he’s going to arrange a photographer for headshots soon, too.”
“Mad, I know we are both eighteen now, but this sounds… How do I put it in English?”
“He wanted me to start modeling sooner,” she says, not paying attention. “But he said someone above him was causing headaches, so we had to wait a bit. Shall we go?” she prompts, picking up her handbag.
Dread eats a hole in my happiness even as I nod. Maybe my experience left me paranoid, but I don’t like the sound of my sister’s friend.
And I hate that I feel guilty for sneaking out, too. Nico will be very angry if he finds out. He might punish the guard on duty. He’ll definitely punish me.
***
“How will we get in?” I ask, panicking and shivering in high heels that I’m convinced will lead to a broken ankle soon. The nightclubs here are twenty-one and up. I hadn’t considered that, but even if the admittance age was eighteen, I don’t have an ID.
“Trust me,” Maddalena says. “Spice is the hottest club in Chicago, but my friend will get us in.”
“I should be back in my room before Nico and the children get home.”
“We’ll only go in for a few minutes. Isn’t this exciting though?”
She’s giddy and keeps checking her phone, but I can’t stop staring at the muscle-bound, tattooed giant of a man working the door. He’ll never let us in.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the most beautiful girl this side of Lake Michigan,” a man’s voice purrs behind me. Maddalena flushes, and a thick, wavy head of hair bobs past my shoulder as the stranger leans in to kiss her hand.
“Giacomo, you’ll get us past the bouncer, right?” my sister asks, hopefully.
Giacomo? “Barzetti?!” I splutter. He knows Nico, and he’s met me. Merda, I’m going to get caught. Nico will probably install locks on my bedroom door and windows after this.
Turning my way, Giacomo spends several seconds checking out my body before he bothers with my face. When he recognizes me, his mouth falls open, and his eyes dance with malicious delight. “Why, Miss Cerniglia, what a pleasant surprise this is. Does the Capo know where his nanny is tonight?”
***
“I told you he’s cool. He even said you might be able to participate in the runway showcase, too.”
Giacomo was quite keen on the idea, but he gives me the creeps and by now I’ve decided a half hour is more than enough time at the nightclub for me. The loud music brings back memories of the club in Las Vegas where I was being sold to some other sleazy man until Alessio intervened.
My sister sips another one of the fruity cocktails Giacomo bought her after he walked us past the bouncer. I haven’t touched mine, but at least I watched the bartender mix them. “Mad, we should go,” I urge.
“It would be rude to run off without saying goodbye. He promised not to tell Nico.”
He did promise that. Can’t say it makes me feel more secure. Giacomo disappeared a few minutes ago to talk to someone. I don’t care if he ever comes back.
“What are you doing with him? He is married. Even if he was single, he is not a good man for you,” I tell my sister.
She laughs loudly. I think she’s tipsy. “What are you talking about? He’s not interested in me like that. He just likes to flirt, and he’s helping me with my modeling career.”
“I don’t think that’s all he wants,” I mutter.
“There you are, girls,” Barzetti says, rejoining us before I can convince her to go. “This is your lucky night. I talked the owner into letting me bring you two lovelies to the VIP room with me.”
“The VIP room?” I repeat.
“Yeah, it’s fight night.” He grabs Maddalena’s hand without explaining further, and she totters after him in her high heels. I have no choice but to follow. I can’t leave my sister alone with this snake.
Down a back hallway, we go. I’m struggling to keep up and pushing back the unwelcome thoughts of a sticky floor, my bound hands and the blindfold when Giacomo knocks on an ordinary-looking door.
Another huge, tattooed man answers, but he is no mere bouncer.
He has the three-headed wolf on his throat - a Made Man of the Trio.
The room is little more than a broom closet, but he ushers us inside. “You got permission for them?” he asks.
Giacomo puffs out his chest. “I am the son of a captain, and I’ll be running things here someday, Bobo. Open the fucking stairs for us.”
The tattooed giant named Bobo is unfazed. “Is that a ‘yes, I have permission’ or ‘no, I don’t,’ Barzetti?”
“Yes, I have permission,” Giacomo huffs, reminding me of a child on the verge of a tantrum.
I’d be tempted to laugh if I wasn’t so freaked out by Bobo’s next words. “Good. The Beast has the next fight, and I’m not losing a kidney because of some son of a captain.”
“The Beast? Do you mean Dante Morelli?” I gasp, certain I’m doomed.
Bobo either doesn’t hear me or doesn’t consider Giacomo’s company worthy of an answer.
He walks us to the back of the broom closet and places his hands against the wall, giving a powerful push.
The wall recedes a couple of feet, revealing a stairway leading down like some hidden escape route in an adventure movie.
“Come on, girls. The VIP Room awaits.”
My sister doesn’t hesitate to follow, and I’m not strong enough to drag her away from Giacomo, so I turn on Bobo, boldly glaring up at him.
“I am under the protection of Nico Morelli.
If we come to harm down there, no one on this planet will save you, your kidney or any other parts you value. Hai capito?"
I can't tell if the giant understands or not because he grins at me like I’m an amusing puppy, so I reach for the stiletto blade.
“Answer me,” I order, pressing it to his throat before he knows what’s happening. I jerk my chin at the stairs where my sister disappeared. “She is precious to me. He is not. Will we be safe?”
He still looks more amused than he should be, but he gives me a subtle bow of his head. Without removing my knife, he lightly touches the three-headed wolf on his throat. “On my honor, signorina, I swear to you that no harm should come to either of you down there tonight.”
Having little choice but to believe him, I tuck the knife away and follow my sister down the narrow steps in the wobbly heels.
Just before Bobo activates the lever to close the wall again though, he adds, “No harm tonight, but you’d be better off avoiding this place and Giacomo altogether in the future, little spitfire.”