Chapter 47 #2
Okay, very obvious Isaac and probably the rest of the Crew hate him.
They have been dealing with him longer. Then there’s the whole partly why I was in a coma, almost drove Leo to insanity because of it, and getting us both abducted.
But in earnest, I don’t think Matteo knew Gabriel was planning that, especially hurting Leo.
I sigh, bringing my head back up. “What if I talk to him? I doubt he’ll listen to you or Leo, but—”
“You cannot be serious.”
“What?”
“He hates you.”
“Oh, no Gabriel hated me.”
“He tried to kill you.”
“Very aware, I was there.”
Isaac groans, rubbing his temple as the elevator doors open. Rudy walks out, immediately, narrowing his gaze. “Barchen, what are you doing to Pretty Boy?”
“She wants to talk to Matteo,” Isaac answers.
Rudy frowns, crossing his arms like Isaac. Where’s Michael when I need him? He’d go with my chaotic plans.
“Not alone, okay?” I argue.
“Did you forget—”
“Kill me. Yes. We’ve established that. All of you keep reminding me of when I was almost choked to death and pushed over a railing.”
“Exactly,” Rudy grunts.
I meet his gaze, and a twinge of guilt is there. I sigh. Right. He didn’t save me. Michael did. No doubt shame he’s held since that night.
“You should just have him sent somewhere,” Rudy adds. “Boss will listen to you if you say it.”
“Because that clearly worked the first time,” I say deadpan. Rudy doesn’t change his expression, scowling as Isaac looks away with a frown. “We can’t keep sending him away as an answer. That’s not a solution that’s just pushing away responsibility.”
“Miss Autumn, he’s not your responsibility.”
Anger flourishes, quick through my chest. I sit straighter in my chair, acting as if I wasn’t so much shorter than them at the moment.
“Yes, he is.” My voice is sharp. “I’m married to Leo.
We are equal partners in regards of the Luciano and Marchetti fortunes, companies, and anything else attached to those names.
I am the matriarch of the Luciano name, whether I am walking or rolling down these halls.
Not to mention, who will be the owner of this hotel by the end of next month.
But most of all, I am Matteo’s sister-in-law, whether he likes it or not.
Apart from Leo, I’m what’s left of his family.
So, for the love of Nick Cage, let me talk to my brother-in-law. ”
Both men stare at me. Finally, they exchange a look, and a voice comes from behind Rudy.
“He won’t do anything to her.”
We turn, and see Bobby standing there wearing cargo pants and a dirtied work shirt. His hair has grown a bit, pulled back into a small ponytail. His beard is longer, too. He faintly smiles at me, coming over as he glances at the other two wearily.
“Hey, kiddo, good to see you finally.”
“Hey, Bobby.”
“What’s your top speed on that thing?”
“No clue yet,” I shrug before he bends down to give me a hug. He stands and glances at the other two again.
“Matt is in the lounge, finishing lunch.” My brows pinch, and he chuckles. “Been calling Matteo that. But yeah, I think you should talk to him. Start somewhere.”
Isaac starts to speak, “It’s not exactly your call—”
“Isaac, I may be in a wheelchair, but that will not stop me from kicking you in the dick again.” His eyes widen. “Bobby’s spent the most time with him. Pretty sure he’s the one who can make that call.”
Isaac clears his throat, bringing his arms down. “And what of your promise to not go near him to Leo?”
My heart clenches as I narrow my eyes at Isaac briefly. Low blow. “I’m pretty sure with you two, Bobby, and whoever his guards are…I’ll be fine. Safety or health wise. And I’ll talk to Leo.”
Isaac’s jaw flexes, and he looks away disgruntled. Rudy looks just the same.
“Pretty certain they just worry about you, kiddo,” Bobby says softly. “So do I, which is why I wouldn’t agree unless I knew you’d be fine.”
I rub my hand over my face, briefly black spots venture over my eyes as I shake it off and hope the faint migraine leaves. Great already wearing myself out with this.
“I need to try,” I tell the other two. Isaac looks over at me. “If he tries anything, you can hang him upside down by his toes, okay?”
Isaac snorts, while Rudy grunts. After a minute, they finally agree, and we follow Bobby down the hall.
The two remain behind me. We’re quiet as we get to the maid quarters, where a few do say hello as we pass.
A few other workers greet me, and I smile to each until we get to the back lounge.
Rudy goes ahead first, checking the space before I follow with Isaac directly at my back.
Two guards stand behind Matteo, who sits at one of the corner tables. He’s wearing a plain shirt and cargo pants, much like Bobby. He looks up, disappointment coming over his face when he sees Bobby isn’t alone.
I stop a few feet away, while Bobby sits in the chair next to Matteo. The younger Marchetti brother glares at me, flicking his eyes to the other two. Briefly, I glance at his bodyguards, remembering one with Michael at one point.
“What are your twos names again?” I ask.
“Ron, ma’am.” The one with a ginger beard and shaved head says. He nods his head to the other with dark hair pulled back. “Levi.”
“I’m sorry about Igor and Garett,” I say. Both their grumpy expressions soften, nodding their heads slightly.
“At least Michael made it,” Ron says.
“Thankfully, yes.”
I bring my attention back to Matteo, whose face is scrunched together.
Without the flashing lights and dimness of Vincenzo’s club, I can see his features more clearly.
He has a bit more squarish jaw than Leo, deeper brow bone that makes him look older than he is.
His hair is mussed, dark brown and slightly curled.
Clean shaven and smooth. His brows actually come together similar to how Leo’s do. He’s just…young.
Suddenly, I’m not sure what to say. How to start. The others shift in their spots as he and I stare at each other.
Then I inwardly thank Bobby as he nudges Matteo’s shoulder, who frowns at him next. “Shouldn’t you tell her somethin?”
Matteo rolls his eyes. Bobby grunts, which elicits a reaction I wouldn’t have expected from Matteo. He stops, and actually looks sorry for doing so. Like he doesn’t want to disappoint Bobby.
Finally, while staring at the table, Matteo says, “Sorry.”
Surprise flicks through me. Bobby gives me a little shrug, and I’m glad I listened to my gut.
“Thank you,” I respond softly.
Matteo then slumps back into his seat, crossing his arms like a sullen child. Whelp, that was short-lived. “What do you want?”
“Watch the tone,” Levi warns under his breath.
“Still working on Matt’s manners,” Bobby comments casually, giving him a cocked brow. “To be less of a gloomy mobster.”
Matteo slides his gaze at him.
He acts like a teenager who didn’t get to play video games for a week and who doesn’t really want to listen to anyone. Apart from Bobby, but even that doesn’t seem concrete.
I let out a soft exhale, folding my hands into my lap. Matteo glimpses over me, and offhandedly remarks, “So, you a cripple now?”
Yup, needs work on the manners part.
Bobby swears under his breath, and I feel Isaac and Rudy ready to twist the kid into a pretzel.
“No thanks to you,” Rudy rumbles. Matteo flinches a little, keeping an eye on the very pissed off ex-wrestler that’s more than twice his size. “Arshloch.”
“Don’t go saying that to people, okay?” I tell Matteo. “It’s outdated and offensive.”
He shrugs, acting indifferent.
Alright, getting him to talk or believe me isn’t going to work on a first conversation. Nothing I say is going to convince him to listen to me. He’s been lied to and used. Words won’t mean shit, but actions might.
“Wanted to know if you need anything,” I say, and he narrows his gaze. “I’ll give you one thing in your room. Something to help pass the time between working hours.”
Confusion flits over, and he looks at Bobby, who just gestures for him to talk to me. Matteo sighs, still acting sullen. It’s like he’s trying to be a spoiled teenager, but it’s coming off…strange.
He mumbles finally, “Television.”
“Just the monitor so you can watch the black screen? Fun,” I say sarcastically.
“No,” he grumbles.
“Video games then?”
He scoffs, “Non gioco.”
“Just asking.”
He shoves his arms over his chest together. “Movies.”
My interest has been peaked.
“What kind? I can add a streaming service or give you cable.”
“Non mi importa,” he mutters, shrugging.
Is he switching to Italian because he’s frustrated or more comfortable? That thought lingers as he avoids my gaze, lips pursed as his jaw works.
“Better tell her,” Bobby says. “Or she’ll only give you Cartoon Network, which you hate.”
He shrugs, giving Bobby a bored expression. Bobby gives him a look, gesturing for Matteo to answer me.
“Whatever you put on there, better than nothing,” Matteo says.
“So, Cartoon Network?” Matteo glares at me. “You said movies, so what kind?”
“You probably can’t get them, doesn’t matter just…cable’s fine.”
“Matt,” Bobby warns, but there’s also encouragement in his tone.
“What? Why tell her when she’s just gonna give me anything else but that?” Matteo questions.
Ah, gotcha. Not a spoiled teenager. A kid who’s been tormented and fought for attention, only to get nothing in return.
“Qualunque film tu voglia,” I say slowly, and he finally looks at me again. “Promessa.”
Matteo narrows his gaze, frowning at me as if he just realized I can speak Italian. Finally, he answers, “Western Italiani.”
“Westerns?”
He scoffs. “You probably only know The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly anyways.”
Isaac and Rudy both snort.
“Well, Fistful of Dollars is a favorite, iconic theme and can’t forget that whistle,” I say, and Matteo pulls his brows closer. “But My Name is Nobody is, uh bene, and Once Upon a Time in the West is just memorable for the opening.”
Matteo just stares. I smile a little, and add, “Also have Death Rides a Horse, The Great Silence, Django, and dozen more you can borrow from my collection. I’ll have them delivered to your room tonight. Capisce?”
I look over at Ron and Levi, who both look surprised. “He still has a TV, right? Didn’t get ripped off the wall?”
“Still there, ma’am.”
“Okay, thanks.” I grab my push bars, ready to leave and keep things short.
“Grazie.” Matteo’s voice is almost too soft to hear. I stop, looking over my shoulder and that flicker of hope ignites in my chest. “Just, uh…grazie.”
“Whether you like it or not,” I respond. “I give a shit about you. Even if the others don’t like it.” His eyes meet mine. “Ti perdono.”
“Perché? You’re in a wheelchair cause of me.”
“No, I’m in a wheelchair because of Gabriel. You don’t get his sins.” His face falls. “No matter how hard you tried or were almost convinced, you’re not the monster. I’ve met them. I’ve fought them. But only you decide what you turn into.”
I catch Bobby’s face, who winks at me as I turn and leave.