Chapter 20
Matteo
“I wanted to kill him!” I yell. “And make no mistake. I will. Damn Nico for standing there.” It was almost as if he knew I was there. Had our father made him do it? Told him to stay close to protect him? I wouldn’t put it past the spineless jellyfish.
“Matteo,” Giovanni scolds. “You have to calm down. You’re shaking the walls with your drunken rants. What happened to your fancy alcohol app? A lot of good it does you when the shit hits the fan.”
“What. Ev. Er!” I slur.
“These conversations with you get more intelligent by the day. I can’t believe you flew home like this. Hell, what am I saying? I can believe it.” He paces. “But thank you for not puking in Anthony’s car again.”
Lying here on the cool floor with my eyes shut, I hope he’ll assume I’ve passed out, or dead, and just leave me the hell alone. I’m not sure what he’s even going on about. I’m not as drunk as I usually get. I mean, the floor doesn’t feel like it’s shaking, and my brain isn’t trying to attack my skull with a machete.
“Keep this up and I’ll dump your sorry ass in a rehab while you’re sleeping. An old smelly one with roaches and nurses with hairy moles.”
“Try it.”
“Oh, don’t think I will? Watch me. You have to pass out sometime.”
I’d barely made it to my terminal before I was looking for the airport bar. It’s a good thing service was slow, and my flight was on time, or I likely would’ve been arrested for being intoxicated while I was in Italy. Once the news got out, my father would’ve had a field day with that one. I don’t even want to think about what his plan would’ve been. Kill me or abduct me and arrange to have a video feed sent to torture me with Sydney’s abduction and eventual murder.
But clearly, I wasn’t thinking beyond my next drink. I’d ordered another scotch as soon as my ass hit the seat on the plane. Thankfully, I was so tired from lack of sleep, I was able to rest the remainder of the trip without harassing the flight attendants for more.
D’angelo convinced me it was best I let him take care of my father. His team can do it without bringing any more harm to me, Sydney, Giovanni, Luigi, my siblings, or their families. My cousin and his team have any number of ways to make it appear Vincenzo’s death was the Grassos’ doing.
I’d long laid the blame for my mother’s suicide at the feet of my father. If only because his vile behavior had pushed her to feel she had no choice. Yet hearing my cousin say he believed Vincenzo had her killed and staged it to look like a suicide had been a revelation.
How had I never considered this? I was tempted to go right back there and kill the motherfucker with my bare hands. Dan offered to risk inevitable retaliation by finishing Vincenzo himself so I wouldn’t have a target on my back. He has my utmost respect after saying he was willing to publicly take the credit in order to avenge my mother.
The room grows silent momentarily before I hear a door opening in the distance. Has G finally given up and left?
“Ah, finally. Maybe you two can talk some sense into him. I give up.” Giovanni huffs.
Yeah, so obviously not that lucky.
“Matteo,” my brother greets. His voice is a mix of sympathy and disappointment.
“Why are you here?” How long have I been out that G had time to get Luca here? Then it dawns on me, he said he can make it to Jamaica on his private jet in less than three hours.
“I want to help. We spoke with Dan. He told us about your conversation when we shared the state you were in when you arrived here.”
“I should have killed him when I had the chance,” I snarl. But who knows if anyone can understand my alcohol infused rants from the floor but me. “He killed her, Luca. He killed her.”
“We don’t know that for sure. But it shouldn’t be a shock. Why would his evil be limited to the business? He’s already tried to kill me and my family. And look what he did to Antonia.”
I roll away from him. His words causing my stomach to churn.
“The online therapy isn’t cutting it, fratello,” Luca says quietly.
“Neither is that fucking candy.”
I swear once I can get enough strength to get up, I’m kicking G in the balls. “You didn’t need to risk it… coming here.”
“But I did, Matteo.” He grows quiet, and I roll back toward him. “I’m scared.”
My eyes flutter open at this.
Luca grabs my hand, a tear falling from his eye. “I can’t lose you too.”
His words pierce like a knife to my heart. I don’t want to hurt my brother. He’s honestly the best man I’ve ever known. Well, him and Luigi.
Fuck. Why does this have to be so hard? Can’t they see? I don’t want to be this person. Chained by this addiction. Its hold on me is like being in a room full of two-sided duct tape. I can’t make a move without getting stuck in it.
“I understand why you’re so upset. I want to fucking kill him myself. But it’s not wise. We should let Dan and his family take care of this.”
I simply nod. I’m in too much pain, both physically and emotionally, to do much else.
“You need to consider rehab,” Luca implores.
Luigi’s kind, fatherly voice joins the conversation. “Yes, son. I think it’s the only way.”
“No,” I groan. “Who’ll protect Luna and Sydney? You won’t be here, Luca. You’re going back home to your island and your family.”
Suddenly, my brother’s usual gentle, encouraging tone becomes terse. “Well, maybe you need to consider that. Who is going to protect them if you’re drunk off your ass? How will you feel once you come to and discover one of them is gone? And you could’ve stopped it.”