93. Chapter Ninety-Three
Chapter Ninety-Three
Mateo
T he next couple of weeks tick by, and nothing is any easier. The attacks continue, and sabotage is rampant. It’s one step forward, two steps back.
I find myself questioning more and more why I’m enduring this. Why I’m fighting so hard for something that only drains me, and kills any remnants of joy I used to have. If it wasn’t for Mari, I’d go insane.
The door to my office swings open with force.
“You won’t believe what’s happened now,” Rom announces, his voice heavy with frustration.
I lift my head to nod toward Mari, signaling that we’re not alone. My beautiful wife is curled up on the lounge, sketchbook in hand, lost in her own world. Her brow furrows in concentration, her fingers dancing across the page as she sketches a new design with the kind of passion I wish I still had for anything other than her.
Her feet rest in my lap, warm and delicate against my thigh. I let my thumb trace slow, absentminded circles on the inside of her ankle. The small connection keeps me grounded. Calmer.
Rom exhales sharply when he notices her. “Oh, hi, Mari.”
She looks up, offering a small smile. “Hi. You two obviously need to talk shop.” She fights a yawn, closing her sketchbook. “I’m going to bed.”
“I won’t be long,” I tell her, though even as the words leave my mouth, I know that’s probably a lie.
Whatever Rom has to say at this hour isn’t going to be quick. Or good.
Mari leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips before disappearing down the hall. I watch her go, envying her ability to step away from all this.
I turn to Rom. “What is it this time?” My voice is tight, my patience almost non-existent.
He drops into the seat Mari vacated, looking as worn out as I feel. We used to enjoy life, used to laugh, drink, and fuck without a care. Now, those days seem like a distant memory, belonging to the lives of different men.
“Our guy at the police department called. They got an anonymous tip-off about a shipment of weapons arriving in a couple of days. The chief wants it confiscated and make a big show of it.”
Fuck . That’s the last thing we need.
“He seems to forget who holds the power here,” I seethe, grabbing my phone.
Rom watches as I dial. The line barely rings before Uberto picks up. The man never seems to sleep.
“Send me those pictures of our police chief with that prostitute sitting on his face,” I say without preamble. “Straight to my phone, please.”
I hang up and rise, pulling on my suit jacket with a resigned sigh.
“Let’s visit our chief of police. We need to have a little chat.”
Rom stands as well but not before pouring himself a generous glass of whiskey. He downs it in one go, then shakes his head.
“You being Don is really messing with my sex life,” he grumbles.
I let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “Tell me about it. I’m not getting enough either.”
I glance around the office, the burden of responsibility closing in on me like an iron cage.
“If anyone wants this role, they can have it.”
And I’m not even sure I’m joking.
I slip into bed a few hours later, exhaustion numbing my limbs. The moment I slide beneath the covers, Mari instinctively moves closer, her warm body molding to mine. She doesn’t wake, just sighs softly in her sleep, her breath warm against my skin.
I wrap an arm around her, my fingers tracing slow, absentminded patterns along her arm.
“What do you really want?”
Tiero’s voice echoes in my mind, that single question looping over and over.
The answer hasn’t changed.
Mari.
I want her.
A life with her.
A future where I don’t spend every second looking over my shoulder, where I don’t come home to her with blood on my hands and exhausted bones.
But no matter how much I want that, I feel like I’m fucking it up. I’m being absent, preoccupied, and too consumed fighting fires that never stop burning.
The life I’ve been raised for is pulling me away from the one person who truly matters.
I can’t have the relationship I want with her while I’m Don.
It’s becoming clearer with every passing day, every missed dinner, every time I see the silent pain in her eyes when I leave yet again.
Sure, Tiero and I had busy times before. There’s never a moment in our world where someone isn’t scheming, betraying, or trying to climb higher. Before Mari, I didn’t mind. Before her, I had nothing to lose. And it was foremost Tiero’s responsibility to fix everything.
Now I do mind. I mind a lot.
And I refuse to lose her.
Lying here, with her safe in my arms, I finally make my decision.
I will finish what Tiero started for himself.
Mari and I are getting out of the Mafia. Alive.
Mari is still wrapped in the covers when I sit on the edge of the bed, brushing my fingers over her cheek to wake her. Her lashes flutter, and when her eyes meet mine, still heavy with sleep, I know this is the right choice.
“I want out,” I say, my voice quiet but resolute.
She blinks and pushes up onto her elbows. “Out?”
“Out of la famiglia. Out of this life we’ve been expected to uphold. I want a future with you, Mari. A real one.”
For a second, she stares at me. Then something sparks in her eyes. A glimmer of something I haven’t seen in so long. Hope .
“You mean it?” she whispers.
I nod. “I do.”
She exhales, like she’s been holding her breath for years. Then, without hesitation, she throws her arms around my neck, pulling me down into her warmth.
“Yes. Yes, please. Anything has to be better than this. I’m so worried about you. Being Don… this isn’t who you are,” she murmurs against my skin.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to see it,” I admit, pressing my forehead to hers. “I felt obligated to my father, to the De Marco legacy. But it’s not worth it. Not if it means losing us. And the truth is, I don’t see it ever getting better.”
She leans back enough to meet my gaze, her hands sliding to cup my face. Her eyes, warm and steady, hold no doubt.
“Let’s do it, Mateo.”
No fear. No hesitation. Just trust.
That’s all I need.