Page 34 of Mafia King: Matteo (Borrelli Mafia #1)

MATTEO

As the sun beams into my study, I assume Alena is up. I flip the note I’ve tossed between my fingertips back into its hiding spot inside my desk. I could take the note to a specialist for analysis, but it would be useless without something to compare it to.

I look up at the muted TV hanging on the wall. The news is displayed with a running caption of international news before it switches to the local channel.

The name Santino Moretti catches my eye. I find the remote to turn the volume up. “Breaking news” is the banner at the bottom of the screen.

The anchorwoman says, “Santino Moretti was arrested for waving a loaded gun in a crowded pizzeria. He is out on bail. No more details are available at this time. It is speculated that he is the head of the Moretti syndicate, which has ties to waste management and recycling facilities along the Eastern Seaboard. There were overdoses in the city today, and the body of a young man was discovered after family members in England requested a well-being check by local officers. An investigation is ongoing.”

“Moretti, what is it about you that has your name popping up twice in two days? What should I know about you?” I mutter before a soft knock lands on my solid-stained oak door.

I move to open it.

“Sleeping beauty,” I tease.

“Good morning. I wanted to know if we have plans for today. It’s a Saturday.” Alena’s face exudes youth and vigor as she clasps her hands in front of her.

Her hair is piled on her head, and she has a stick through it. How that occurs, I’ll never know. She’s breathtaking as she stands before me in a black sweatsuit. I stifle a groan as her large boobs fill the top, and her curvy hips will soon support the weight of my baby.

She’s young and doesn’t have lines from years of worry on her forehead. Her eyes are bright, and her face inquires whether I’ll spend the day with her.

I wonder about bringing a child into my world. I’ve wrestled with it since my uncle brought it up in Sicily. The world is dark enough without my hand in making it darker. Will I fuck up a child and become my father?

When I see Alena, she dispels my worry. She’s an angel, and any child with her as their mother will know her love every day of her life. Is that such a terrible thing?

No, it is not. Perhaps that is why I have only considered this with her in my future.

“One minute, I have to turn off the TV.” I return to my desk and flick the TV off.

I return to her as she leans her back against the door jamb, one foot crossed over the other’s ankle. She’s sexy as hell. I close the door behind me.

“Are you off today?”

“We’ll see how it goes.” I hope today will be void of drama, but being in the business as long as I have, I have no expectations.

I will be interrupted by something that will put me in a bad mood.

It’s the reason I never smile. I have nothing to smile about.

I put out fires, and someone creates a new one.

The city never sleeps, so I rarely sleep through the night.

“What would you like to do?”

“I don’t know. What do you do? I’ve never had a serious boyfriend,” she says as she slips her hand into mine. I walk her to a cozy room with a fireplace.

“Thank God. If you did, he’d be a dead man walking.”

She stops walking, and I look at her face, filled with fear.

“There’s no ex-boyfriend. No harm done. Let me light a fire for us.” I lead her into the cozy room with dark green walls. The brown leather sofa is comfy and has an amber throw made of baby alpaca wool.

Alena sits on the sofa’s edge and watches as I open the damper and methodically stack wood before lighting the kindling underneath it. In less than a minute, the fire is a steady flame, and heat spills into the quaint, private room tucked out of the presence of anyone who could pass by.

“How is your job going?” I ask Alena now that the room is glowing with heat.

“Good. I’m getting into the routine. My new friend Penny noticed my ring, but I didn’t give any details.”

“Why not?” I snap with the quickness of a twig in a forest—the current in the air changes.

Alena’s face turns pale.

“I’m sorry I was so direct. Is there a problem?”

“Not really. I have no details to give anyone.”

“I think a June wedding would be nice, don’t you?” he asks as he stirs the fire with a poker.

“It would give your family enough time to get there,” I reply.

“What about you? Friends or family to invite?”

“I don’t want to see my father. I wish he hadn’t broken my trust. Could he be setting you up for a bad deal with Alexsei?” She pulls her feet under her as she sits on the sofa, and I pull her toward me as I sit at the end.

I stare into the fire. What is the long con that her father is working toward? “I’m not sure, but we can’t trust him. Someone will have to give you away.” I look at her face, and I realize she’s not surprised. “Has your father broken your trust before? You don’t look surprised.”

“I was surprised the night of our engagement dinner—which was an ambush,” she adds. Her words are sharp. I shouldn’t have surprised her like that. I let my childish needs prove to her that I knew more about our fragile beginning overrule my better judgment.

“Again, I’m sorry.”

“Dad hasn’t seemed right in some time. I thought I would have been engaged after college, but my parents said they were waiting for Dmitry to take over to see how the dust settled first. I never had a reason to be concerned about what my father was doing until I met you.”

“Why is that?” I turn my eyes to the methodical flicker of the flames in the fireplace.

“I’m not sure. He was working and didn’t eat dinner with us. He seemed angry. He was off. I’m afraid he might be planning to take over the bratva.”

“I had the same thought. Who could be working with your father?” I ask with intrigue. She has an imaginative mind. Perhaps she’s picked up on how my world works after growing up in a mafia family.

“I’m not sure. You know how it is growing up with everyone being a relative. Kirill, the man from the bar, and I are best friends, and he’s tight with Dmitry. If he knew what my father was doing, he hid it well. We need to warn Izzy and Dmitry.”

“I agree. Are you comfortable doing that?”

“I have to do it,” she whispers as the fire’s flames dance in front of me.

I wish there were more information. “Besides, if Kirill knew more about my dad, he would have known your name, and he didn’t.

So that means I haven’t been watched closely.

Perhaps he has his men on others. It doesn’t make sense.

” She slips her arms through mine and lays her cheek on my shoulder as we contemplate the situation.

“I’m new to the situation. I can’t risk my neck on an assumption. However, you can throw a red flag in front of Izzy, and she’ll take the warning. What do you know about the Moretti family?”

She shudders against me. “They are wicked. The don, Santino, is Izzy’s grandfather.

He forbade his daughter from marrying Alexsei when they were young and in love.

He even faked her death when she left town so no one would look for her.

She ended up dying in New York City in a car accident when Izzy was young. ”

“That’s tragic.”

“It was. I mean, Dmitry and Kirill had to discover all this through tiny snippets of information. We wonder if it was a hit, or if it was her grandfather who knew where her mother was all along? I guess we’ll never know,” she concludes with a pause.

“Dmitry is quite the hacker—without him, I doubt anyone would have been able to piece it all together. We all added something to the mix. We worked together to unravel the truth as we know it, but when Alexsei met Izzy, he said he knew she was his.”

“Interesting. So, Dmitry is a good hacker, you say?” My mind naturally goes to my new messenger app. I wonder if it’s something I can share with him. “So, what happened to Izzy?”

“Yes, he is, and Izzy’s Aunt, who was her mother’s friend, raised her. Izzy has nothing to do with the Moretti family. Alexsei’s wife disappeared after Izzy’s wedding. I’ll never know what happened to her after the bomb went off in the fountain.”

“You’re kidding me. I remember reading about that,” I reply, trying to recall the article I read.

“I bet we both know what happened to Alexsei’s wife,” I say, knowing Alena has come to the same conclusion.

“A woman who sells her husband out has got to be swiftly dealt with, and I’m not talking about a one-way ticket to Siberia.

No wonder Alexsei has a soft spot for you and Izzy. Vultures have surrounded the man.”

“True. I know better than to lie. My father knows the consequences of his actions. I won’t betray Izzy or Alexsei.”

“You are right. I would expect my family to come forward if there were a traitor among us.” My phone beeps, and when I pull it out of the pocket of my jeans, which cost thousands of dollars, I see it’s Gio.

“I have to call Gio,” I say. Alena moves so I can stand. I excuse myself before I walk to my study and close the door behind me.

“What’s up, Gio?”

“It appears Finn is the body they found from an overdose this morning, and the Irish are sniffing around. The O’Donnells in London were inquiring as to his whereabouts.”

“Fuck!” I yell. “I told you to make sure this wouldn’t come back to us. What the hell is wrong with Antonio?”

“He’s blinded by love,” he grumbles. “How the hell should I know?”

“Get on him and make sure no evidence leads to us. We’re in an alliance with the Russians. We can’t be kicking up shit with the Irish. I don’t want to piss Alexsei off. He has enough on his plate,” I state without a filter. I trust Gio, but I prefer to think things through before speaking.

“I know, I know,” he moans. “I’ll visit Antonio. Do you still think he can be trusted?”

“Unfortunately, I believe Antonio is in love. Men are capable of doing stupid shit when they are in love,” I mutter.

Thankfully, Gio is smart enough not to comment on this statement.

I am learning what it’s like to have feelings for Alena.

My heart races, my palms are sweaty when I’m nervous that my presence might not be welcomed.

I’m in a state of worry over her safety, and my cock is hard, wanting to fuck her every ten minutes.

“How long before the Irish start kicking in doors?”

“No clue. Without proof, they can only speculate.”

“Well, make sure there is no proof. If there is, you know what has to be done.” I hang up the phone. I ball my right hand into a fist and smash it onto the desktop. Fuck. Now, my hand hurts. I have to wait for an update.

I returned to Alena and offered to show her the wine cellar I had built in the basement. It’s not like the ones in Italy, but it’s as close as I can get.

I lead the way to the door that looks like a closet off the kitchen and hold her hand as she walks down the cold steps.

I explained to her what regions the Italian wines are from, and she picked a bottle.

She says we’re having pizza for dinner. I marvel at her fascination with my impressive collection, and we return upstairs, where Federico has a light lunch prepared.

In the past few hours, I’ve felt every emotion on the spectrum.

Anger, rage, disappointment, and inklings of what I believe is love.

If this is one day, how will I survive a lifetime?

My heart is in my chest when I observe Alena.

I imagine her belly swollen with my baby, and my cock grows hard, contemplating the process to make that happen.

After lunch, I escort Alena back to the fireplace and kiss her softly on the neck before I move to her lips.

“I have to have you now. Only you, Alena. I am going to fuck you hard and fast. I will fuck you until you scream my name,” I mutter against her ear.

We shed our clothing, and she lays on the long-haired bear-skin rug before the fireplace.

I run a hand over her head and let her hair down.

I caress her face and peer into her eyes as my lips cover hers.

I continue to drop kisses down her neck while I grab her firm boob and suck her nipple between my teeth.

I nibble on it, and she presses her knees together.

I cup her between her legs, forcing her to spread her legs, and a moan escapes her lips.

“You are mine.” I run my hand over her boobs before I bend, clasping her hips as I move between her legs.

I suck her swollen lips as her juices flow.

She’s ready for me, but I will take my time.

I slip two fingers inside her and flick her clit with my tongue, stroking it hardens under the pressure. She raises her hips.

“Fuck me, Matteo,” she rasps with an uneven breath.

I align my cock to her opening and thrust into her. I’m hit with an adrenaline rush as my hard cock moves into her tight canal.

I want her pregnant, and the thought of the prospect makes me delirious as I grab her hips and fuck her harder and harder. Each stroke is faster than the last.

My balls pound into her firm ass, and I love the sound of it and the fact that we are skin-to-skin in every way imaginable. I hear her say my name before she lets out a long scream. She pushes me over the edge. I shoot my seed into her warm and willing pussy.

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