2. Matteo #2
“He’s fine, safe. You know I wouldn’t leave him without adequate protection. I watched his nanny put him to bed; he was out like a light within seconds.”
I nod, taking in that information.
He asked a lot of questions after the wedding, which is exactly why I keep him away from our world. I knew it was a mistake. Usually, he’s at home, hidden, which is exactly how I like it.
Most people in the Cosa Nostra are barely aware he exists. And for those who know, they’d lose their tongue if I so much as heard his name from their lips.
Leo wore me down, though. He found out his Zio Salvatore was getting married and begged for days to attend the wedding.
I even allowed him to be included in the wedding party, and now he’s a witness to a fucking shooting.
One gunshot later and I’ve left him traumatized by this world, the one thing I swore never to do.
At least not until he’s old enough and can make the choice on his own.
It’s the one courtesy my father never extended to us. A choice to be a part of this world. We learned from him, though, and we did better with Elio. My youngest brother still chose to stand with us, but he could have very well have gone down another path and we would have still supported him.
It’s also why I had strong reservations about how Salvatore chose to marry his new wife.
Roscoe must sense I’m rehashing the events of the wedding and cuts into my thoughts.
“He’s a strong kid, boss. I got him out almost immediately, lied that a firecracker went off.”
“And he believed you?”
Roscoe shrugs.
My jaw tightens. When it comes to Leo, guilt and love are intertwined. I try my hardest, but it feels like I’m never enough. Parts of me are being pulled in different directions. And he needs all of me.
I don’t know how to give him that.
“I didn’t get home before he went to bed, you told him I was busy handling things?”
“I always do, boss.”
“I’ll see him tomorrow. Tonight—”
“We hunt the Shadow?” Roscoe cuts in excitedly.
He gets a little trigger-happy when it comes to matters involving the Cosa Nostra. He rarely gets to be a part of it, considering he’s Leo’s primary bodyguard. He shouldn’t even be here, but trust him to capitalize on the chaos to try to sneak in and join the rest of the men.
I know he cares for my son and would give his life to protect him. Sometimes he just wants to join in on the action. I can sympathize with that, but I won’t show it.
“No. You’re heading back home, but first you’re going to drop me off at the Aurora Towers,” I inform him.
He frowns. “Why? What about the Shadow?”
“The Shadow’s a problem for another day,” I state.
Lindsay Beaumont requires attention today.
We arrive in front of the opulent skyscraper known as Aurora Towers soon enough. It’s one of the largest buildings in the city, built by a Jersey senator with enough wealth and connections that he’s so far been able to escape our reach.
Not for long, though, he’s exactly the type I like making business deals with. Men with enough money that they feel like they’re on top of the world. One of my hobbies is dragging them down and showing them just how low they can go. But not today.
Today, I’m here to drag down a particularly feisty blonde prosecutor. This meeting is well past due. Lindsay Beaumont has been on my radar for a while now.
Roscoe leaves and I’m left alone, which is just how I like it. There’s no missing the unhappy look on his face as he drives off, though. None of my brothers go anywhere without bodyguards for protection. Not even Raffaele.
Roscoe should be mine, but he’s one of the few people I trust in the world to take care of my son. Besides, I prefer doing things on my own. Salvatore calls it overconfidence. I call it a calculated risk. Anyone stupid enough to make a move against me will be dead soon enough.
My shoes barely make a sound on the marble as I cross the lobby, which reflects an overblown crystal chandelier above. Low piano music drifts from somewhere unseen.
The receptionist smiles as I approach, trained and polished.
“Good evening, sir. How may I help you?”
“Hi, I’m here to see Lindsay Beaumont. I was hoping if you could call up to her room and figure out if she’s there.”
She pauses, like she’s trying to figure out why I haven’t just called her myself. Then she leans forward, too far to be accidental.
She’s beautiful. Soft lips with the kind of body most men wouldn’t think twice about reaching for.
“Are you staying here as well?” she asks, her voice dropping, her hand drifting closer to mine on the counter.
I don’t move. Don’t react.
The woman is practically offering herself up with zero effort… and I walk in looking for the one who wants nothing to do with me.
Figures.
Her smile falters, just slightly, when I don’t take the bait. Then she straightens, professionalism snapping back into place like it never slipped.
“Do you have her room number, sir?” she asks politely.
I hold her gaze for a beat, unmoved.
Because the only woman I’m here for is Lindsay. I plan to see her and maybe even ruin her, I’m just not sure in what way yet.
I flash a small, charming smile, “The penthouse. But I’m sure you already knew that.”
Lindsay Beaumont has been staying in the most expensive room here for weeks. I’m sure they’ve all seen her. The Beaumont heiress who seems like she’s got everything she wants out of life. She feels untouchable, smart, rich, accomplished, and seemingly completely above everyone and everything else.
Well, almost everyone.