68. Chapter Sixty-Eight
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Mateo
Dolcezza : Time to come home, amore. You need a good meal and a rest. I made your favorite lasagna. Let me take care of you now.
Mari has been checking in with me regularly, and I’m grateful. It doesn’t replace having her here, but in the midst of all this darkness, it’s a flicker of light.
I stare at her message, one word standing out like a neon sign.
Home.
My chest tightens. A lump forms in my throat that’s hard to swallow. She is my home.
My gaze shifts to Tiero, the brother I’ve looked up to my entire life, the one who has always protected me, had my back no matter what, and whose strength I’ve never once doubted.
The sight of him now is something I can’t reconcile, can’t accept. And yet, no amount of denial will change the brutal reality.
I feel like I’ve aged a decade in the three days since Tiero got shot, sitting by his bedside, watching him struggle to breathe. He sleeps most of the time, his face pale, his body weak, but when he’s awake, we manage a few words.
He knows I’m here. That has to count for something.
For so long, he’s been my only family. Even before papà ’ s death.
After mamma passed, our father was never the same. His grief swallowed him whole and for a long time, it was like I’d lost them both. But Tiero was always there for me, through everything.
And now… I’m building something new. My own family.
I want both, what Mari and I are building and my brother. God, please. Let me have both.
I squeeze Tiero’s hand, my thumb brushing over his knuckles before I lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His skin is warm but too pale, his breathing steady but weak.
“I’ll be back in the morning,” I murmur. “Hopefully with good news that we found you a lung.”
I linger for a second longer, unwilling to leave. Then, with a deep breath, I straighten and head for the door, texting Mari back.
Me: Okay. Leaving now.
Santino and his men snap to attention as I step into the hallway. Santino’s posture is rigid, his expression grim.
He’s finally filled me in on what happened with Ella in Brazil, at least, as much as he witnessed. I still have countless questions, but bringing it up with Tiero is not an option. His will to fight already seems fragile, and I refuse to remind him of the distress he must be carrying.
“Stay with him,” I tell him. “No one unauthorized gets in. Double-check every doctor, every nurse. Make sure they are who they say they are and supervise them.”
His jaw tightens. “Of course, sir.”
It wasn’t his fault Tiero got shot, but I can see the guilt in his eyes. As head of security, he takes his job seriously, but even he can’t anticipate everything.
I rest a hand on his shoulder, offering a brief squeeze. “Thanks, Santino.”
A stiff nod. “We’ll keep him safe, sir.”
I nod back, then turn and walk away, each step heavier than the last as my entourage falls in step with me.
Leaning back against the headrest in the car, I close my eyes. I’m exhausted. I just want to get home, bury my face in Mari’s hair, and let her warmth chase away the cold sinking feeling trying to creep into my bones. She makes everything better.
The car door opens, and I pry my eyes apart, my muscles tensing as Romeo slips in. He’s been handling most of the business while I’ve been at Tiero’s side.
“What are you doing here?” My voice comes out rougher than I intend.
“Driving from A to B seems to be the only way I get to talk to you these days.”
“Yeah, sorry.”
“Don’t be. But you need an update.”
“You could have called me.”
“Nah. I wanted to check in on you too.” He studies me, but his expression gives nothing away.
“I’m fine.” I force a smile. “So what’s happening?”
“Nothing good,” Rom sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. He looks just as wrecked as I’m sure I do. “Shipments are missing, and some of the Bertucci soldiers are stirring up trouble on the streets.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“They’re rallying support to use your brother’s absence to take back power.”
I’m exhausted, worried, and angry, but not surprised.
“Fucking Molinaro loyals. Tiero isn’t dead. He’s going to make it.”
Rom’s sharp gaze dissects me, like he’s weighing whether that’s reality or just hope. It’s reality.
“How is your brother?” he asks quietly.
I exhale hard. “Nothing’s changed. How fucking hard can it be to find a lung donor?” Frustration burns in my throat.
I rub my face, my stomach twisting.
“Until he’s recovered and back in charge, you’re calling the shots.” As if I needed the reminder. “I’m handling the missing shipments, but what do you want to do about the Bertucci?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. I fucking hate being the acting Don.
Tiero is perfect for the role. I was never supposed to lead. I am his second, his shadow. Together, we are unstoppable. Without him, everything is heavier.
“Mateo? The Bertucci?” Rom presses when I don’t answer fast enough.
“Fuck.” My chest tightens. “Just take them out. I’m done with every single person spreading rumors about Tiero’s demise. We will—”
Ring, ring. Ring, ring.
I stop.
The sound isn’t coming from my phone. Mine is on the seat beside me.
The ringing is coming from the inside pocket of my suit jacket.
That’s… Tiero’s phone.
I pull it out.
Why I carry it all day, I don’t really know.
Ring, ring. Ring, ring.
I check the display and freeze.
Maybe I do know.
Maybe I was waiting for this call.