Chapter 25
Matteo
I have many flaws, but I never thought cowardice would be one of them. I should have been the one to meet Anna in the woods behind her mansion. I should have been the one waiting for her there—not Raffaele.
But I was scared. Scared she’d scream. Scared she’d run.
Scared she wouldn’t recognize me as the man she had given her heart to.
No, it had to be Raffaele. His presence was expected, not mine.
But it still hurts.
Did she run into his arms the minute she saw him?
Did she hold him tight, tell him how much she’s missed him?
Tell him how much she loved him? Kiss him?
All these questions and the images they conjure are starting to do my head in. Every minute Raffaele takes to reach the abandoned airfield, every second he delays bringing Anna back to me, tightens the knot of anxiety in my chest.
I stare out of the airplane window, searching for any sign of my brother’s return.
What if he never comes back? What if he kidnaps her for himself, whisks her away to some unknown part of the world? Someplace too out of my reach?
There is no such place. I’d scour this entire planet looking for them if I had to. There would be no place he could hide from me.
No. Raffaele wouldn’t be so stupid. He might think he loves her, but his love is shallow at best. He wouldn’t go to the ends of the earth just to keep her at his side.
I, on the other hand, would do just about anything. I’d burn the world for Anna if she so much as asked me to.
I’d fucking die for one minute with her. Just one. That’s all I want. A minute with her in my arms. Is that too much to ask for? Is it too greedy a thing to even pray for?
Cazzo.
I’ve never been a praying man, but for Anna, for my Anna, I’d make a deal with God himself if I had to. The devil, too.
But what if Raffaele told her of my plans? What if his hate spoke louder than his duty, his loyalty to his own family?
Yes. Instead of worrying about what my brother would do in his misguided notions of loving my girl, perhaps I should focus on his hate for me. That isn’t shallow. His hatred is bone deep.
Porca miseria.
I can just see him now, telling her to run, run as fast as she can, away from him. To run back into her house and warn her father of my vicious intentions. What would happen then if he did that?
I couldn’t hand Raffaele over to the Cosa Nostra for the heads of the families to deal with his betrayal. I couldn’t live with his treachery either, knowing that I would lose any hope of ever having Anna by my side because of it. He would have won then.
Maybe not the girl, but he would have won the war we have been fighting since our brother Carlo died. Fuck.
Why didn’t I go get her myself?
The sound of tires screeching pulls me out of my spiral as a car races straight toward the jet. I don’t dare step outside when I hear a door slam, then another not long after.
Instead, I fix my gaze on the entrance, suddenly acutely aware of every beat of my heart.
One. Two. Three.
On the tenth thump, my brother steps into my private jet, with my Anna in his arms.
My hands clench at my sides at the very sight of the two of them together. My knee-jerk reaction is to snatch her out of his hands, but just as I take a step toward him, I freeze in place, coaxing Raffaele to tilt his head to the side and glower at me.
Damn it all to hell. My mother was right.
For all intents and purposes, Anna is meant to be a pawn in my vendetta with the Outfit.
I shouldn’t look this upset at the sight of her head resting in the crook of Raffaele’s shoulder.
She shouldn’t mean anything to me. Nothing at all.
Because what is a pawn to a king, anyway?
“You should see your face right now,” Raffaele says, disgust curling in his voice.
“You want her so bad, and still you don’t want to show how much she weakens you, do you?
All that talk about taking the Outfit down, about using Anna as your bargaining chip, it’s all for show.
She’s the real prize, not the fucking throne of the Cosa Nostra. ”
I scowl at him but remain rooted to my spot.
“Oh, come on now, Matteo,” he taunts with an ugly sneer. “It’s only me here. I know it must kill you to see Anna in my arms right now. Admit it.”
My hands curl into fists, but I don’t move.
“Huh,” he mutters, looking far too pleased with himself.
“And here I thought the only reason you wanted us to make this trip to Chicago alone was so you wouldn’t have to hide your true feelings for Anna once she came on board.
I mean, isn’t that why you insisted Nico stay in New York?
Why you just had to come with me instead of appointing Nico or Rocco as my bodyguards? ”
I stew at his words, and still I say nothing.
“Come on, Matteo. You’ve got to give me something.
Tell me what you really feel for your bride-to-be.
I promise I won’t be surprised. I already know,” he says, a slow, taunting smile spreading across his face.
“You might have fooled everyone else, but you’ve never fooled me.
” His grip on her tightens, just enough to make a point.
“So go on. Say it. Or better yet, take her from me.” His eyes gleam with challenge.
“Show me how far you’re willing to go for her.
Let’s see what’s left of the ever cool, ever untouchable Matteo Donato.
” He leans in slightly, his voice dropping.
“All this talk of power, of tearing down the Outfit, of claiming your place at the top of the Cosa Nostra… and in the end, it’s a woman who brings you to your knees.
” His ugly smile turns even more malicious.
“Not just any woman, either. Your enemy’s daughter.
I wonder how the heads of families would feel if they learned about your obsession with Anna. ”
“What do you want, Raffaele?” I ask, not rising to his bait.
“What if I said I wanted her?” he says, glancing at her face, a soft, sad smile cresting his lips.
“She’s a person, Rafe. She’s not something you just give away.”
“Bullshit! If she can be stolen, she can be given too.”
My jaw clenches, but I refuse to move, though it’s getting harder and harder not to.
“That’s what you did, you know? Steal her away from me. And now you’re stealing her away from the only home she has ever known. What kind of fucking monster even does shit like that?”
The kind that would do just about anything for the woman he loves.
Still, I don’t say that to Raffaele. He hasn’t earned my honesty.
“If you don’t want anything, then what—”
“I never said I didn’t want anything,” Raffaele cuts in, confirming my suspicion that he’s holding my girl hostage in his arms because he has his own agenda.
“I’m all ears.”
Raffaele runs his fingers through Anna’s hair just to spite me, then looks me straight in the eye.
“Our father said something to me the other day, and it got me thinking.”
“You shouldn’t listen to anything that piece of shit tells you,” I interject.
“Funny. Nico told me the exact same thing. But what can I say? I’m curious by nature.” He shrugs unapologetically.
“I’m growing tired of these games, Rafe. Just spit it out already.”
“I want to see the scars,” he says, point-blank.
“Excuse me?” I ask, since this was the last thing I expected my brother to blurt out.
“You once said that you hold scars that were intended for me. Our bastard of a father said something similar, even if he alluded that you had it coming anyway. So I want to see them. I want to see how my big brother defended me when no one else did. When even Carlo refused to.”
My chest tightens at his request. Not because of what he’s asking, but because he still doesn’t believe I would go to such lengths to protect him.
I don’t utter a word as I take off my suit jacket, then proceed to unbutton my shirt. Once the final button is undone, I strip my shirt off and let him take a good, hard look at the brother he despises so much.
“Ginevra loved her smokes, remember? Couldn’t go more than half an hour without lighting one up,” I say as I brush my fingers over every scar and burn mark on my chest. “But she was old school. Never did like lighters much. She always said she preferred the sound of a match, the way it caught fire when it hit the timber.” Raffaele’s expression remains perfectly stoic as he takes in every last inch of me.
“These right here, these were meant for you. You were sound asleep in your crib the night she decided to sneak into your room, while I was wide awake, lying on the floor beside you. Oh, how she hated that. Hated that you weren’t alone as she expected.
Whatever she had planned died the second she realized she couldn’t get to you without going through me,” I snarl, remembering that night as if it were yesterday.
Since the day our father brought Raffaele home with him, I had been holed up in his nursery every night, curled up beside his crib, refusing to leave him alone in that house of horrors.
Even at that tender age, I knew that sooner or later, Ginevra would come for my baby brother.
But if she wanted him, she would have to go through me first.
“So she pulled up a chair, sat down, and said that I’d have to suffer the brunt of her annoyance since I denied her fun. And I did. I did suffer. She smoked a whole pack of cigarettes that night. Every match she struck, she threw at me, singeing my pajamas, the fabric sticking to my skin.”
I swallow hard, the memory of burnt flesh invading my nostrils.
“When that didn’t entertain her enough, Ginevra ordered me to take off my pajamas, stand up straight, and try to catch the flicking matches with my body if I didn’t want any of them to fall inside your crib.
She played that little game until the sun came up.
I was six years old at the time. You weren’t even one yet. ”
The disgust that was on my brother’s face not a minute ago morphs into something else. Something that almost looks like regret. Like guilt. And so the words are out of my mouth before his mind takes him to a place he can’t come back from.
“None of what I told you was your fault, Rafe. I know that you hate me right now, and I know why. But hear this. I would do it all over again, as long as it meant keeping you safe. Because that’s what real family does.
We protect each other. We keep each other safe, away from the real monsters of the world.
And even if you have no love left for me, you need to know that I have more than enough for both of us.
Nothing and no one will ever scar you like that.
Not as long as I’m still standing. Do you understand? ”
Raffaele closes his eyes for a minute before opening them again and walking toward me.
“Take her. She was never mine anyway.”
I don’t hesitate. The second Anna’s within reach, I pull her into my arms and sink down onto the seat behind me, gathering her against my chest as if she belonged there. As if she has always belonged there.
Raffaele lingers, standing over us, but I don’t look at him.
I don’t acknowledge him at all. My entire world narrows to her.
The soft rise and fall of her breathing.
The warmth of her body pressed against my bare chest. The way her head fits so perfectly beneath my chin, as if she was made for this, for me.
This. This is all I’ve ever wanted. And for a brief second, nothing else in my life could ever measure up to what I’m feeling right now. Not power. Not vengeance. Not even the throne. Just her… in my arms.
I brush a strand of hair from her face, my gaze tracing every familiar line, every detail I thought I might never see up close without a phone screen in the way.
Beautiful. Mine.
“Nothing’s changed between us, Matteo.” Raffaele’s voice cuts into my thoughts, his frame still towering over us. “I will never forgive you for this. For any of it.”
“I know,” I murmur, unable to tear my gaze away from her.
“Fuck.” He exhales sharply before continuing. “You need to get your shit together, brother. You can’t look at her like this when we’re back in New York. If you do, everyone will know you’re in love with her.”
“She’s going to be my wife. A husband can look at his wife however he wants.”
“A husband can,” he agrees, his tone hard. “But not you. She’s a Romano, which means to the families, she’s the enemy. She will always be the enemy.”
I don’t add anything to his statement. I don’t want to think about any of it. Not now. Not when Anna is finally in my arms.
“You’re so fucking screwed, and you don’t even know it,” Raffaele scoffs. “It’s your funeral, Matteo. I won’t shed a tear either way.”
With that, he turns and heads for the cockpit, instructing the pilots to return to New York.
“You hear that, vita mia,” I whisper, softly brushing my knuckles along her cheek. “I’m taking you home.”
Anna’s lashes flutter faintly, a soft exhale leaving her lips as she shifts against me, almost as if she recognized my voice even in sleep.
My breath catches in my throat when her lips part slightly, a faint tremor escaping her as she leans into my touch.
It’s nothing. Barely anything. And yet it feels like everything.
It feels like our beginning.