Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Anya
After waking up from my medicine-induced sleep, I found my phone flooded with worried messages from Matteo. Guilt hit me hot and hard, realizing that I didn’t warn him I would fall asleep for hours and be unreachable. I should have sent him another message before I took my Ativan.
It’s rare for me to need that particular medication, especially since I’ve been getting better.
But when I woke up from a horrid nightmare—a vivid replaying of the worst night of my life—I knew I couldn’t go on acting as if the day would be normal.
I would be riddled with discomfort and anxiety.
I knew I was likely to experience a panic attack and asthma attack or two.
So I waited an hour, willing my heart to stop racing and my peaceful mindset to return, but it was a fruitless endeavor.
I texted Matteo that I was having a bad day as soon as I woke up, figuring that I would be abed and not a very good conversationalist later on.
I should have brought my phone with me when I sought out our live-in doctor.
While our doctor’s main purpose is taking care of the family and patching up the occasional wound, he’s been given the responsibility of handling my medication when my psychiatrist or Tiffany aren’t around.
I can take my daily meds on my own just fine, but with my history of suicidal ideations and attempts, everyone agrees that it’s best I don’t have open access to the harder stuff.
I took my pill in his quarters, and by the time I made it back to my bedroom, I was half-unconscious.
When I woke up past noon, I learned that not only Matteo was unaware I took my emergency medicine, my father was too.
I expected that he would hear from our doctor after I went to my room, but he was busy around the house and didn’t inquire after me until Apollo Moretti called him on Matteo’s behalf.
Dad has just finished filling me in on all the details of that phone call—after repeatedly asking if I was feeling better now—while sharing a light lunch with me. I have, of course, already sent Matteo several text messages apologizing for worrying him and assuring him that I’m okay too.
He replied with words that I haven’t been able to reply to yet, nor have I been able to stop thinking about.
Matteo
I’m coming to see you as soon as you feel better.
“I’m very proud of you, dochen’ka,” Dad says, patting my hand on top of the dining table. “I’m sorry that I took so long to check up on you, it was a busy morning—”
“You don’t have to be sorry,” I interrupt.
“The doctor would have come to find you if he thought I needed you. I just needed a dreamless sleep to shake off the nightmare. I’ve been a lot better, but there are always going to be bad days.
Tiffany and I have talked about it a million times.
I won’t let one step back force me to retreat. I feel better, really.”
He grunts, accepting my reply. “Matteo did good, getting a hold of me. I…I have not always been the most accepting of your friendship, but he’s proven himself to be a good man. I won’t doubt him from now on, not unless he suddenly gives me a reason to.”
“He won’t.” I can’t help but smile. “Maybe you could work on getting Uncle Lev on the same page as you?”
Dad sighs, shaking his head. “Your uncle has his own reasons for being so protective over you. I’m not sure anything I say will warm him toward Matteo, but I can assure you he won’t act on his feelings. Irina and I have both ordered him to keep his desire for violence away from the boy.”
Somewhat amused, but also relieved, I nod. “If he’ll listen to anyone, it’s the two of you.”
He grunts, agreeing.
“Dad?” I ask nervously. “If I wanted to go see Matteo—on my own—would you allow that?”
He stiffens, eyes widening a fraction. “Why can’t he come here?”
“He can,” I acquiesce. “He said he would come as soon as I’m feeling better, but I think I want to go there and surprise him instead. I want to get used to doing things that make me uncomfortable, and I’d like to see where he lives, you know?”
“I…Anya, I can’t let you leave here without protection.”
“You can’t,” I agree without argument. “I thought you could have guards fly with me there, maybe even Uncle Lev or Mikhail. But they wouldn’t stay.
They’d fly back after handing me off. I could ask Nico to meet us at the airport with his team.
They’ve already guarded me before, I bet he would do it again. I could offer to pay him this time.”
“Fly back without you?” He draws his eyebrows in, looking supremely uncomfortable at the thought. “How long are you planning to stay?”
“Oh, no,” I say, shaking my head at his implication.
“I don’t think I could stay more than a day.
I doubt I’d be able to sleep in a hotel room and I don’t want his whole family to know I was there, so I couldn’t sleep at his house either.
I would sleep on the plane home; I’ve slept in that bed in the back before and I was fine. ”
“You want to fly to Philadelphia—a five-hour flight—then spend the day with Matteo, and come home after—another five-hour flight? You want to spend ten of twenty-four hours on a plane?”
I frown, not liking the sound of that at all.
He catches my disappointment and releases a slow breath.
“I can’t believe I’m suggesting this, but do you think you could sleep in a hotel room if your uncle stayed with you?
I would tell him to leave you and Matteo alone while you’re there.
But I think you would stress yourself out with back-to-back flights, dochen’ka.
And if you have him waiting for you in the hotel, he could also have extra medication for you on hand if you need it. ”
It’s…not a bad idea.
“Which uncle?” I ask, considering it.
“I would say Lev, but he’d never agree not to follow you around. Mikhail would do it if I asked. He wouldn’t stalk you while you saw your friend, either.” He practically grumbles the last part and I have to smother a smile.
“Okay,” I finally agree. “Can we go tomorrow?”
His jaw flexes and he shakes his head in disbelief. “So soon?”
“Zhizn’ korotka, a del mnogo, Papochka.”
Life is short, but there’s a lot to be done, Papa.
He softens, hearing the Russian proverb that our family is fond of.
“If Nico is available to receive you and keep an eye on your safety while you visit, then I can’t find a reason to refuse you.”
“Thank you, Papa.” I jump up from my seat to hug him hard, and he accepts the embrace, sighing as he hugs me back.
“You keep growing up, solnyshka. I wish you would stop.”
“No, you don’t,” I tell him, tucking my head into his neck. “You just don’t want me to leave you. And I’m not going to.”
“You don’t know that,” he argues stubbornly. “You’re learning to spread your wings, Anya. Eventually you’ll want to fly away for more than a day or two.”
“I don’t think so, Papochka.”
“We’ll see.” He cups the side of my face. “Go make your plans with Nico. I’ll call your uncle.”
He doesn’t need to tell me twice.
I can’t believe that everything went so according to plan. Nico’s agreement, Uncle Mikhail’s willingness to tag along, and my ability to get on the plane without being afraid. There was too much excitement bubbling inside of me to leave any room for fear.
My uncle is the first one off the flight when we land, taking two guards with him to scan the area before they let me follow behind.
The high noon sun is still beaming bright despite the chilly, late winter weather.
Visiting Matteo in the Northeast during the second week of February probably wasn’t the best choice when it comes to weather, but the cold couldn’t bother me if it tried.
Honestly, part of me wishes I arrived in time for snow, but none is forecasted, nor is there any on the ground to see.
The sunlit tarmac is completely empty, save for the team of Moretti men waiting for us.
Nico and his team, and another familiar face.
Dante Moretti stands by his son’s side. He’s impeccably dressed in a black designer suit, looking every bit of the esteemed Capo that he is.
I knew that Father and Nico coordinated this visit with the man, as protocol requires, but I didn’t know that he would come to meet us with his son.
I don’t find myself being upset by the appearance of him; rather the opposite, in fact. He exudes an almost frightening air of power, yes, but he’s the man who raised Matteo. The man who raised Nico. The beloved grandfather to the sweet little Moretti-Morozov twins.
He’s a comforting presence, even if I’m a little nervous as I walk over with Uncle Mikhail to greet him.
“Anya,” Nico grunts in acknowledgment.
“Nico,” I reply, smiling hesitantly. “Thank you for meeting us here. This is my Uncle Mikhail.”
The two men eye each other, barely dipping their heads in greeting.
“Anya,” Dante Moretti’s deep Italian voice rumbles. “It’s nice to finally officially meet you. Matteo is going to be so happy to see you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Moretti,” I reply shyly, looking up at the imposingly tall man. His warm smile does little to make him less intimidating, but it’s a step in the right direction.
“Dante, please,” he insists. “Did you have a good flight?”
“It was smooth,” I inform him. “No real turbulence, which was nice.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Looking toward my uncle, he nods in greeting.
“Anton said you would stay in your hotel, waiting for us to return her later tonight, but you’re free to come to the house.
Your presence here wouldn’t give away Anya’s.
You could visit with your nephews, if you wanted.
And make up some story about being in town. ”
“I will consider it,” Uncle Mikhail replies gruffly. “Will check out hotel first. Make sure it is secure for Anya.”
“It is,” Nico vows, though it doesn’t seem like he’s trying to get my uncle to change his mind. More like he’s trying to tell him he’s already had the security of the hotel taken care of.
It’s decided that Dante will go with Uncle Mikhail and bring him back to the house after—if he wishes to go.
Nico, on the other hand, will bring me directly to the Moretti mansion and sneak me in without being spotted.
I don’t know how he’s so confident that he can do it, but I can’t very well doubt the man.
He’ll know his childhood home inside and out—he probably has access to their security cameras, too.
I know he’ll get me inside.
And not even twenty minutes later, he’s done exactly that. He got me through the home and up the stairs, holding my hand to drag me along quickly so that we aren’t spotted. When we’re up the stairs and in front of a closed bedroom door, he doesn’t allow me to knock.
No, he opens the door and nudges me inside, following behind and shutting it hastily after he pushes in.
I find Matteo sitting on the end of his bed, sweatpants hanging low on his hips and not a shirt in sight. He appears to be flipping through movie options, a small remote pointed at the TV hanging off of his wall.
“Anya?” he gasps, eyes round and wide.
His body is rippled with toned muscles despite his relaxed state. If I didn’t know better, I would assume he was just doing crunches rather than scrolling his TV for something to watch.
“Surprise,” I offer as my stomach flips with wild excitement and nervousness. “Sorry, Nico insisted on barging in so we weren’t seen in the hallway. I tried to knock.”
“Nico?” he asks as he stands up, dropping the television remote onto his bed and scrambling to put on a nearby shirt. I know it’s not for his comfort, but for my own. “What are you…How are you here?”
“You’re welcome,” Nico drawls, moving inside the room from behind me to face Matteo. “Let me know when you go anywhere, and I’ll get you both out without being spotted. Dad knows she’s here, but her father only agreed to let her come on her own if I watch over her.”
Matteo blinks at his brother. “Since when are you so eager for guard duty?”
“Since her,” Nico huffs.
My heart goes warm, hearing his care for me. Whether he’ll admit to it, or why it’s there, I’m glad to have his protection. I think Nico will be a good friend, no matter how he denies it.
Matteo shakes his head in disbelief. “First looking after her in California for two months, and now this?”
“So what?”
“So, what changed? You hate security tasks. You called them tedious and boring. You hate doing anything where you can’t kill someone by the end of it. Did you hit your head and wake up with a new personality or something?”
“What business is that of yours?” Nico snaps.
“Jesus.” Matteo steps back, sensing the threatening tone of his grouchy brother. “You’re in a mood.”
“He means thank you,” I interrupt politely.
“Thank you for making this visit possible. I wouldn’t have felt comfortable coming to surprise Matteo without knowing that you would keep me safe in the process.
And thank you for bringing your father along.
I was glad to finally meet him. He has raised such strong and kind sons. ”
“You’re welcome,” Nico grumbles before glaring at his brother. “Don’t do anything that will make her father hate you. Based on our phone call, he apparently likes you now. Who knows why.”
“Why shouldn’t he like me?” Matteo gripes, looking offended. “I’m incredible.”
“No idea what you see in him,” Nico mutters to me under his breath, turning to leave the room. “Text me when you make plans.”
When the door shuts, it hits me that I’m alone with Matteo Moretti.
In. His. Bedroom.
“Hi, Matteo,” I breathe out, trying not to squirm.
His smile lights up the room. “Hi, Anya.”
I take a step forward, and he does too.
When I launch myself at him, he catches me and pulls me in close.
And suddenly, everything is right in the world.