24. Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mateo
I throw the car into park and leap out. Gustavo rushes toward me, his face anxious.
“Where is she?” I growl, venting my annoyance with him.
How could he let Mariella wander around alone, with no way to contact her, in a city she doesn’t know? Dammit, we’re in the middle of a war and have enemies lurking everywhere.
“She’s not here yet, sir. We agreed to meet at five, but she’s late,” Gustavo says, trying to sound confident.
I check my watch. Eight past five.
That uneasy feeling in my gut grows, as does my anger at Gustavo’s negligence.
Stepping closer, I grab him by the tie and freeze him with my stare.
“If anything’s happened to her, it will be your head,” I say, my voice low and deadly. I mean every word.
He swallows hard, still trying to hide his fear.
“I’m sorry, Signor De Marco. I didn’t realize she meant anything to you.”
That statement makes my heart stutter.
I shove him away, anger still boiling under the surface, and he stumbles backward.
She doesn’t mean anything to me.
I care because she’s under my protection.
“She’s Antonio’s daughter and hence part of la famiglia . We protect our own,” I tell him and he nods.
“Of course, sir. It won’t happen again.”
Turning in a quick circle, I scan the area. That’s when I spot her, heading toward the taxi stand.
Something inside me settles, and for the first time since I learned she had left Carloso, I can breathe freely.
“Watch my car,” I tell Gustavo as I walk in her direction. She hasn’t spotted me yet and I take the opportunity to drink her in.
She looks different today, somehow more grown up and feminine.
It could be the dress she’s wearing. She looks stunning in it, the colorful fabric hugging her slender frame in all the right ways. Her hair is free from its usual ponytail and falls in long, dark cascades down her shoulders and back.
Wow. She is something else.
Strange sensations stir in my stomach. Could those be butterflies?
No. It’s just the relief of seeing her unharmed and in one magnificent piece.
My gaze travels to her face and my breath hitches, but not in a good way. I can’t see her eyes, they’re hidden behind large sunglasses, but her features look tight and she’s pale.
Something did happen.
I might not have known her for long, but somehow, I feel a bond with her, an invisible string that ties me to her emotions.
I continue walking toward her, yet she doesn’t notice me. She seems completely lost in her own thoughts, barely registering anything around her.
“Mariella,” I call out when I’m about to reach her.
Startled, clearly not expecting to see me, her hands fly to her chest as if she is trying to keep her heart inside her body. Even with her sunglasses on, I watch as her eyes widen, almost comically so.
“Signor De Marco, I…,” she stammers, her voice unusually high-pitched as she trails off.
The way she reacts makes my heart skip a beat, a mix of concern and something deeper stirring within me.
“I thought we agreed you’ll call me Mateo.”
The customary blush creeps up her cheeks, making me smile.
“Umm, of course, sig… I mean Mateo.”
Hearing my name from her lips stirs something inside me. I’m tempted to lift her sunglasses, wanting to see her eyes again, wanting to get lost in them and feel the same peace I experienced the last time.
My hand lifts, but she flinches ever so slightly.
My brows furrow. “What happened?”
While she’s shy, she’s not afraid of me. My gaze shifts to her cheek. She’s covered the bruise with makeup, but I can still make out its presence. My jaw clenches, the fire inside me turning stormy again. I really should have punched Antonio at least once for this.
Mariella’s eyes dart around as if searching for someone. Alarmed, I scan the area too, but nothing seems amiss.
It’s time to get out of here and figure out what’s got her so spooked.
I take her elbow and guide her toward my car, where Gustavo is in a heated argument with a group of taxi drivers. I parked in their zone, so I’m not surprised they’re upset. But as we approach, and a few of them recognize who I am, they wisely drop the matter and retreat.
I settle Mariella into the passenger seat and instruct Gustavo to return home. As I pull out into traffic, I keep her in my peripheral vision. The further we get from the Colosseum, the more she seems to relax. The death grip she has on her hands loosens, and her shoulders gradually lower.
While some of her tension eases, mine ratchets up. The knot in my stomach tightens as the questions swirl in my mind.
What happened to make her so anxious?
The need for answers gnaws at me. I spot a small car park and pull in, the tires crunching on the loose gravel.
Startled, Mariella turns to me, her wide eyes reflecting a mix of confusion and apprehension. Then she tenses again, as if bracing for a confrontation.
“Why have we stopped?” she asks, glancing nervously out the window.
I let the question hang in the air, watching her until her gaze shifts back to me. This time, I reach up and gently take off her sunglasses. I need to see her eyes for this conversation.
“What happened at the Colosseum?” I ask again, turning my body fully toward her. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”
Her entire body goes rigid, and I think she’s stopped breathing. She stares at her clasped hands in her lap, her knuckles turning white from the pressure of squeezing them together.
The silence stretches. The vulnerability in her posture tugs on my instinct to puff out my chest and shield her from the world.
“Mariella,” I encourage her, reaching across the center console to caress her cheek.
Damn, her skin is soft. As my fingers glide under her chin, I lift her face to meet my eyes. They’re big and brown, and clouded with fear. It’s like a punch to the gut.
“You can tell me anything. You’re safe,” I try to assure her, my voice steady but urgent. I need to understand what’s going on and how to fix it.
She swallows hard, her lips disappearing into her mouth as she moistens them. It’s not a conscious gesture; she’s too lost in whatever turmoil swirls in her mind. My cock still stirs, despite myself.
She takes in a deep breath, then pauses, leaving me hanging.
“Mariella, please.”
She breathes in again before confessing, “My father cornered me just before you arrived.” Her voice is quiet, hesitant.
“Antonio is still in Rome? He defied orders again?”
Motherfucker!
“I wasn’t meant to tell you. If he ever finds out, he’ll—”
“He won’t,” I’m quick to assure her.
I try hard to keep the anger from my voice. This isn’t Mariella’s fault. And I refuse to let my frustration spill over onto her. But it’s becoming increasingly clear that Antonio is way out of line.
The thought makes my blood boil. Tiero and I need to have a serious conversation about the new position he’s all set to take soon.
If we can’t trust Antonio to follow simple fucking orders, how can we rely on him as consigliere?
But who else is there? We have limited choices.
Every second I think about Antonio’s recent actions, a tight knot of rage forms in my gut. It’s infuriating to consider he might not be acting in the best interest of la famiglia anymore, that his motives are self-serving.
But when haven’t they been? It’s no secret how power-hungry he is. He’s always tried to advance his standing, but his actions have always aligned with la famiglia’s .
“What did he want?” I can’t help but grit out.
Mariella takes another long breath, her eyelids fluttering shut as if trying to block out the world.
Her internal conflict is clear in the way her brow furrows and her lip quivers as she bites down on it. It’s obvious she’s torn, weighing whether to reveal the truth to me.
I want to reach for her, to ease her burden, but I hold back. This moment is hers to navigate, and I need to know how she will choose.
I’ll find out the truth one way or another, but I much prefer her coming to me with it. Mariella is loyal to a fault. The question just is, who to?
She finally opens her eyes, but they don’t find mine.
Instead, she stares at her hands, her voice barely above a whisper as she says, “He wants me to…”
She hesitates, her breath catching. I can see her pulse racing, and a mix of fear and uncertainty hangs in the air between us.
Then her eyes lift to mine.
“He wants me to spy on you.”