Page 26 of Mafia King: Matteo (Borrelli Mafia #1)

ALENA

The restaurant is elegant. There are numerous dining rooms, all of which are themed. One has a Greek fountain in the middle of the room. We walk past another room with Roman columns that adorn the walls and separate the tables.

The guests are dressed like they are dining in Vegas, and the women’s hairdos are spectacular. There is a quaint piano bar, where a man plays the piano and a couple appears to be on their first date.

I find it entertaining that the woman sitting across from the piano player is overdressed.

Her date is wearing a dated suit. She has diamonds dangling from her ears, and her choker looks like an heirloom piece made of pearls.

It’s as if each is trying to make a statement to the other, but I can’t figure out what it is.

Are they trying to prove they have money, or is it an arranged date to appease mutual friends?

They don’t appear to have a spark between them. I guess we’ve all been there.

I’m underdressed. I should have gone home and changed into a cocktail dress. However, when we entered, heads turned. No one seemed to mind that I was dressed for work. Do these people have jobs, or is this their evening entertainment?

We are immediately escorted to a table large enough for four. It sits toward the back of the main room. Matteo steers me toward the chair opposite him so he will sit where he can see the front door. I wonder why.

After we’re seated, I turn my head to the left and check out the unusual circular room built of glass that obstructs my view of the piano room. I have a minute to observe the colossal wine room. Judging from the air-tight door, it’s refrigerated.

The gorgeous glass spiral is filled with bottles of wine and champagne.

The 360-degree staircase amazes me as I watch a man climb it.

He effortlessly swings his body to swing the stairs until he secures the bottle he needs with his hand and returns to the bottom of the room. I’ve never seen anything like it.

Everybody tiptoes around as if they will be yelled at if they aren’t efficient.

Their white dress shirts are starched, and they all wear black slacks.

The waiter at the table next to us announces the evening’s specials and answers questions for the couple before he calmly walks away to obtain their drink order.

“What is the name of this restaurant? I looked at the sign, but it was in Italian. Is the word ‘kitchen’ in the name?” I slide the cloth napkin onto my lap out of habit.

“Yes, it’s called The Godfather’s Kitchen.”

I gulp my saliva down my throat. “You’re not a godfather, are you?” I whisper.

“It’s a title, my brothers, and I thought it was funny when we decided we wanted to open a restaurant here. We’re from Sicily, so it is a joke to us. Well, part joke and part a tribute to Sicily.”

“Oh,” I sigh in relief, but he never said if he wasn’t the Godfather. I know there are other mafia families from Italy here, so there’s no longer one man at the helm who controls them all.

“So, you own this?”

“Yes. My brothers are partners.”

“Is that why everyone is scurrying around, and our waitress looks like she’s waiting on God?”

“Probably.” His voice is sexy as hell. He has a deep, confident voice that makes me want to come in my panties.

“They are afraid to look at you,” I comment.

“Perhaps, but they’ll get used to us being here. Tonight, we need to celebrate our engagement,” he says as if it’s important to him.

I don’t know why he thinks we need to celebrate. It’s a done deal, and I have to honor it.

Our waitress appeared with glasses of water and placed them on the table. Her hands shake. Her voice quivers as she speaks and tells us her name is Anna. Matteo orders champagne with appetizers to follow in fifteen minutes. I can understand her being nervous.

Geesh. I don’t know how I’ll cook for him if he’s that exact. I’d crack under the pressure.

“Relax,” Matteo comforts me. “I’m not hurting anyone,” he murmurs.

He’s not hurting anyone now, but what about tomorrow or the next day? Granted, if he has to act, they probably deserve it. It’s not like the mafia commits reckless acts of violence to hurt innocent people.

“They flutter around you because you are powerful,” I murmur.

“You’re catching on. I knew you’d be good at this even if you didn’t learn it from your father. Of which I should be grateful. He’s not very good at the game,” Matteo adds as if he’s giving me a playbook.

“I wanted to ask you about that. Why did my father want that property you have?”

“It was his side deal, and he didn’t want the don to know about it. Why are you interested in it?”

“Just curious.”

Anna returns to the table, opens the champagne, and pours two flutes before she sets the bottle into the ice bucket at the end of the table.

“We need to make a toast.” He lifts his champagne flute, and I lift mine.

“To new beginnings,” he says, his dark eyes taking in my face before I meet his gaze.

“To new beginnings,” I reply as we tap glasses and take a sip.

“This is very good,” I comment and take a second sip of the bubbles.

“It’s a dry champagne from Italy. I’m glad you like it.”

“I do like a great Italian wine. Your food beats Russian food any day of the week.”

He chuckles at this. Seeing him lighthearted is refreshing, even if it’s only for a minute.

“It seems like an incredible piece of property to go to such lengths to obtain it. I’m curious as to why it’s so important to you.”

“Your father swooped in and stole it from under me. I don’t like being played, and that fucking Chinaman who owned it knew he would get more from your father than he would from me. Who first contacted who is still up for debate. However, I evened the score with both parties.”

“You’re sure my father took it?” I ask, wondering what else I’ll learn from him.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“The Chinaman’s lips didn’t lie. He enjoyed the fact he fucked me over. Or, intended to. But it’s a deal that can usually be remedied.”

“And what was this man’s price?” I ask out of curiosity.

“Death, I guess,” he replies bluntly and without remorse.

“You mean…?”

“One way or another, men in my arena know the rules—when they are broken, we take care of business.” His voice is cold, and it’s a new side to him I’ve never witnessed.

He can be ruthless.

I feel sick. Did he kill a man over a business deal? Granted, the Chinaman messed with a mafia boss and pitted two formidable opponents against each other. I realize it would have been worse if my dad had let Alexsei buy it.

He’s Izzy’s dad, so he and my husband would have gone head-to-head in a war.

Dmitry is just as formidable as Matteo. I shudder to think how that scenario would have turned out.

Neither of them would ever back down. This marriage put me in a position to ensure that no ill will come between our families, thereby preserving the peace.

I hate to think that, in the odd turn of events, our union might not be the worst-arranged marriage.

The Russians and Italians both share commonalities, mainly Izzy and me.

I thought I’d be married off to a capo. Instead, I’m the new queen of the Borrelli family. No wonder he wants me to make a good impression. Men can lose their lives over things I say and do. A shudder overcomes me. I’m not ready for the responsibility of the title.

“Are you cold?” Matteo asks, ready to hand me his coat, which is draped on the chair beside me.

“No, just wondering what my new life will be like. But first, I have a question.”

“I’ll answer if I can,” he replies with a hint of curiosity in his words.

“Do you think my father has ill intentions, or was this a one-time occurrence where he’s attempted to strike a deal of his own?”

“It’s hard to tell. I haven’t been in the city long. Why? Do you have doubts as to his integrity?”

“Possibly. I’ve never been involved in his work. I might be out of line. But I won’t let anything bad happen to Dmitry or Izzy. We’ve been through too much. She’s the sister I’ve always wanted.”

“I’ll watch him if that is what you want.”

I pause to consider what he’s offering. I’m sure he won’t mind collecting information that will benefit him. Who do I trust more, my dad or Matteo? Matteo is direct, but my dad isn’t.

“Yes,” I state firmly. I’m resolved to protect those I love. It’s the only way I can live with myself knowing what happens in the underworld where I was born.

As long as I have to keep my father’s secret, I’m keeping tabs on him. I’m not as trusting as I was three weeks ago. I will no longer accept the status quo. The fact I trusted my parents blindly leads me to wonder how something else didn’t happen that could have had a terrible ending.

I wonder how many chances I’ve taken with my life over the years. I can’t believe Matteo cloned my phone, and I had no idea that technology existed outside of the movies. However, our phones always receive funky updates, and I wonder what they entail. Is it really safe, or are we being spied on?

Perhaps this was Dad’s first side deal to try to get ahead, and maybe he’s learned his lesson.

I’m not sure he’s equipped to deal with the actual sharks in the water.

Some more powerful individuals have more resources and are more savvy.

Dad’s deal would have been uncovered in time.

The city has many networks, and loose lips sink ships.

For now, I’ll keep my thoughts about my father’s potential motives to myself.

Trust no one, Matteo said. It’s not a warning. It’s my reality. I’m beginning to see the bigger picture of this seedy world. I’m better off under Matteo’s protection. It’s intimidating and exciting at the same time.

“Stop thinking so much,” Matteo interrupts my thoughts. “This is supposed to be a happy occasion. The champagne is getting warm.” He refills our glasses.