Page 38 of Mafia King: Matteo (Borrelli Mafia #1)

ALENA

Matteo arrives home earlier than expected. He blows in like a nasty head cold. He’s terse with one-word answers. He doesn’t look at me. I’m on pins and needles. This is the first time I’ve witnessed him in such a state.

What happened with Sophia? Did he eat? Did something happen? He wears a frown on his forehead, and the gruffness in his voice is intimidating.

Federico asks him if he’s hungry, and he says he has lost his appetite. He asks Federico to bring him a bourbon, and then he disappears into his study, ignoring me.

Gio storms past me. I give him a wide berth.

“What happened?”

“Not today.” He snags the bottle of Bourbon from Federico and follows.

The study door bangs shut, and the house is quiet again.

I turn to Federico for an explanation. He shrugs his shoulders. “It must be very bad. He might tell you when he’s ready, or he might not.” He shrugs and makes a plate of food.

I understand that there are situations where it’s best to keep me in the dark. However, tonight, it looks like it might have been more than a dinner with Sophia that pissed him off.

“He’s back from the city too soon to have eaten. He sent me a cryptic text to leave work and come home immediately.”

“More guards arrived on the estate before they pulled in,” he says.

“What does that mean?”

“He’s expecting trouble, I presume. One never knows. The world we live in—it’s more of a mental game than a physical one at times.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.”

“Quiet time makes one wonder, is the enemy waiting to make you think you are out of danger before striking? Or do they poke at you constantly and drive one insane? Sitting around brooding isn’t good.

But jumping into action without understanding the situation is worse.

Time is the devil’s workshop. Too much time on one’s hands to sit and contemplate all that can be taken from us is cruel but good psychological warfare.

What is real and what isn’t? One often doesn’t know the answer until it’s too late to change the outcome. ”

“You’re very wise. You are a great friend, Federico.” I hug him. He’s surprised by the overture.

“Matteo will not like this,” he says as he gives me a quick hug before he pulls away and quickly walks to where he puts my dinner on the counter. “It’s only soup and a panini. I hope you don’t mind. Since Matteo went out to dinner, I assumed you were together, and you both ate.”

“It’s fine. He had dinner with my boss, Sophia.”

“Ah. The woman who is a siren. She lures lovers to her as if they are shipwrecked sailors with no intention of committing to any of them. But she is always vindictive when they move on.”

“What do you know about her and Matteo?”

“She’s always wanted Matteo’s money and power. Now that he’s the don, she thought she’d be his wife. He’s back in New York, and she was probably waiting for him and wanted to strike up an affair. How did you end up working for her?”

I sit at the counter as Federico cleans the coffee machine.

“It’s strange. I think Matteo orchestrated all of it. He learned who I was after we met anonymously, and it stuck with me as odd that I was hired so quickly when I had no work experience.”

“He is a man who likes control and is very good at thinking ahead.”

“It will serve him well. It seems my father doesn’t think ahead or about consequences,” I mumble as I lift the spoon filled with soup to my lips.

Federico listens without asking questions, which relieves me. However, I’m upset that Matteo ignored me, and I do not know what happened tonight. As his wife, I suppose this is my first of what may be many bad days ahead.

I eat quietly, contemplating what Sophia might have done. She wants him. I’m sure she used their shared history to lure him back to her and probably hit on him. Did Matteo entertain the idea?

I trust him. He’s the first person I would run to if I were in trouble. He is a logical thinker and savvy with his skills regarding people from all walks of life.

I don’t have to know much to know that men in the mafia know the streets, the addicts, the players, and the gang members. Only a few can seamlessly move between them all and high society. Matteo fits in anywhere, and that’s an attribute that will make him a good leader.

“Oh, your attire for the gala arrived. I put the outfits in your closet. If there is an issue with the fit, let me know. I have a number of well-known makeup artists, or you can do your face yourself. I wasn’t sure what you’d prefer, so I booked her and a stylist.”

“Thank you. I forgot all about it. It’s this weekend already?”

Federico saved my ass by booking the glam squad I need to look my best at the event.

All eyes will be on my husband as the new don, and now he’ll be linked to the Russians.

It will be quite the event. It’s more a show of wealth and power.

I want my husband to be proud of me. I don’t want to disappoint him because I’m not yet prepared for my new role.

“Yes, it’s this weekend. You are sitting with Izzy and Dmitry. That’s quite the statement. It should be fun. Do you dance?”

“I doubt I can waltz.”

“Matteo is a great dancer. You are in good hands.”

“Will he be in the mood for the gala after tonight?”

“He will drink tonight, and tomorrow, he will do what must be done. I’m sure your presence will put him in a better mood.”

“I’m not so sure of that.”

“You are too hard on yourself. He loves you. He tries to hide it, but I know.”

I texted Dima before going to bed. I asked him if Sophia had left for London. He replied that she had had a man at her side.

Dima: Apparently, he doesn’t date.

Thank you for your service, Dima. There’s no need to dig up details on him anymore. I’m good.

Very well, Alena. Good luck.

It is still dark when I hear someone bump into our bedroom door, and Matteo tumbles in.

Immediately, I hop out of bed to help him.

I hold his arm and steer him to the bench at the end of the bed.

I take his shoes off. He stands, and I help him undress.

He reeks of alcohol. I hope Gio isn’t driving home tonight.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he mumbles as his words are slurred.

“Right,” I reply as I pull the bedcovers back, and he tumbles into the bed. He doesn’t speak words I understand, even though they are English. He gives up and waves a hand through the air as if it doesn’t matter.

I pull the covers around him and return to bed.

When I leave for work in the morning, he is still sleeping. I’m even more perplexed when Sophia isn’t in the office. She’s always here before us, and we all look at each other, wondering where she is. Penny gives us an order to continue working amid the confusion.

We need to schedule the installation of floating cabinets in the bathrooms, and we’re seriously behind on the tile work. I scheduled the crews to install the carpet and hope they won’t take over a week to finish the job.

I eat the panini Federico packed for me. It’s prosciutto and cheese. I pull out a to-go container with slices of melon.

I texted Izzy to see if she was ready for the big weekend event, and after that, I called Federico to inquire about Matteo.

“He’s rough. I gave him a shot glass of alcohol to help his hangover.”

“Do we know anything?”

“No.”

Shit. What the hell is going on? He can’t keep me in the dark forever.

I haven’t heard from Matteo all day, which is odd. He always knows where I am, and he never seems to be far. Today, I’m feeling the frostbite of Siberia. I don’t know if he’s alive or dead. He hasn’t reached out to me. I won’t chase him. I assume he’ll come to me in his own time.

Men are like that. They like distance, especially when they are in a bad mood. I wish he trusted me enough to confide in me.

Does he love me?

I might have read too much into the fact that he always knows where I am. I can’t decide if it’s his need for control or his way of showing affection.

Vito drives me home after work. I’m exhausted from worrying about Matteo.

By the time we reach the house, I find Matteo dressed casually, and for him not to be in a suit is peculiar. I assume his hangover kept him home.

He greets me with a kiss on my forehead and helps me out of my coat. We sit down to a roasted chicken and vegetable dinner that smells delicious.

“How was your day?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“Sophia wasn’t at work.”

“Ah. Well, she won’t be. I’ve transferred her to our London office. Who will run the project? We’re behind as it is.”

“I’ve given it some thought, and you enjoy decorating. I want to see your plans. If they meet my expectations, I want you to complete the project.”

“I appreciate your vote of confidence, but I’m new. No one will listen to me. I’m too young, and it’s too much responsibility.”

“Are you trying to talk me out of this?” His eyes question me.

“Not exactly. I’m looking at the situation realistically, and that’s my opinion.”

“I thought you would tire of the commute when you moved in with me. Instead, I worry over the long days you work, and you don’t complain,” he replies.

“It’s what normal people do, Matteo. It’s what I would be doing if we hadn’t met. Things snowballed between us. And the wedding is in March—I never agreed to that.”

“It’s more important now than ever to get married as quickly as possible. You need to be under my protection.”

“What’s happened?” I chew the chicken slowly. It’s delicious, but I don’t enjoy it as I’m still upset over yesterday’s events.

“My brother, Niccoló, has a girlfriend, and she was murdered last night. She visited her father in Southern Italy. He works the docks for us. She said she would return on the evening boat. She didn’t answer her phone that night.

He went to check on her and found her dead. It looks like a home invasion.”

His words are slow and painful.

“Home invasion? I thought that was an American thing.”

“It’s uncommon, especially in Sicily.”

“You think this is related to your father, and that’s why we have more guards.”

“Yes.” Matteo eats a few bites of his meal and pushes the plate away. Federico swoops in and removes it from the table.

I lay my fork down, sip cold water from my glass, and sit back in the chair.

“You think the scene was staged,” I reply as the reality of the facts sinks in. A young woman is dead for no apparent reason.

“Probably. But we don’t know who would do such a thing. She was vibrant and full of life. She was a nurse.”

“A nurse who would know poisonous substances?”

“It’s not difficult to research anything today,” he says as if he doesn’t believe she’s capable of killing someone.

“I’m sure she’s a lovely woman if your brother loved her, but was there any indication that something was off? She might have been threatened. She could have been scared.”

“She was late to my father’s funeral, and usually, she’s early as she can’t wait to see my brother. She was very emotional. I didn’t understand it at the time. We all hated my father. He was a mean man.”

“I didn’t know that. How was she lately?”

“Niccoló mentioned she was working a lot and seemed to be distracted.”

“He knew her better than anyone?”

“Yes, they’ve been in love for years. He wanted to marry her.”

“How do you get a reluctant participant to do what you need?”

“I find dirt on them or bribe them.” He responds as if we’re best friends on a dinner date. I’m relieved he is sharing his pain with me instead of drinking another bottle of alcohol.

“How is your brother?”

“Torn up. He’s paying for the funeral. I’m sure he will take a long time to get over this. I hope our wedding will cheer everyone up.”

“March is fine. I understand.” My words are void of emotion. It appears fate has intervened again. The tentacles of the killer have moved closer to us. This is a hit on someone outside the immediate family but a beloved member who is close to them.

Matteo stands and takes my hand in his. “Let’s go watch some TV and take our minds off this. There’s nothing I can do tonight. I wanted to return home for the funeral. Niccoló forbid it. It’s safer for us to remain here.”

“Oh, Federico told me our costumes for the gala are upstairs. He lined up my support staff to beautify me. He’s a lovely man, very thoughtful.”

“You are the most beautiful woman in the world. You don’t need anything but clothes to wear, and that’s only because I’m a jealous man.” He kisses my lips, and I am relieved he’s beside me, now more than ever.

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