Page 27 of Third Crime’s A Charm (Princes Take New York #3)
“Don’t forget to give Margot my love,” Lonsdale eventually told Truman before giving Matteo a once-over.
“You’ve taken the city by storm, haven’t you?
But I heard you weren’t worth much anymore.
The story is you gave it all away but I bet it was drugs or cards.
” Marty guessed, his lip curling as he studied Matteo. “You look like a gambler.”
Matteo reeled for a moment, stunned at Lonsdale’s crudeness.
He should have expected it and decided to toss a grenade back at Lonsdale and make their introduction really stand out.
“You look like you haven’t peed standing up since Obama was president.
What’s your point?” Matteo snapped back and felt Truman’s hand tighten around his arm possessively.
Lonsdale laughed and wagged his unlit cigar at Matteo. “I see why he likes you. You got a fast mouth and you’re fancy enough, but you’re dreamin’ if you think Truman Tennyson’s your new sugar daddy.”
“Careful, Marty ,” Matteo said with a withering look at the older man. “People might think you’re jealous.”
“Maybe if you had a sister,” Lonsdale returned, missing Truman’s warning cough. “He’s as pretty as everyone says he is but I bet he’s after your money,” he said to Truman.
“Have you lost your goddamn mind?” Truman ground out, his expression severe.
“You don’t talk to him like that, ever. But you sure as fuck don’t do it in front of me.
You’ll apologize right now or your ass will be back on a plane to Chicago tonight ,” he said slowly and clearly.
“And you will no longer be represented by Tennyson & Associates.”
The color drained from Lonsdale’s face. “Sure, Truman,” he said, his head bobbling rapidly. “I’m very sorry, Mr. von Hessen. I was just looking out for Tennys?—”
“I said that’s enough!” Truman barked, his voice cutting through the whispers and chatter around them and bringing the party to a halt.
“Given the understanding between us, I think it goes without saying that von Hessen’s affairs are mine as well now.
You’d be wise to watch how you speak to him.
” He looked around to make sure that everyone had heard and rested a hand on Matteo’s lower back.
If that didn’t convince everyone they were serious, nothing would.
Matteo hummed silkily as he dragged a hand down Truman’s chest. “You’re so sexy when you show your teeth, Daddy,” he whispered loudly to Truman, then cut his eyes at Marty.
“How much longer do we have to stay? Your friend’s rude and he’s giving me the creeps,” he said and the hand at his back slid around Matteo’s waist, pulling him closer.
“I promise, Marty just lost his head for a moment and he’s going to watch what he says in the future,” Truman said to Matteo but the message was a warning for Lonsdale.
Matteo had never been more turned on but remembered he still had a mission to do when Truman kissed his hand.
“Why don’t you mingle and find something to eat while I have a word with Marty?
You barely touched your dinner,” Truman suggested, clearing Matteo to make his escape and sneak upstairs.
Instead, Matteo pushed out his lower lip and walked his fingers up Truman’s tie. “I’m hungry, but not for some stale canapés… Let’s get out of here.”
“Soon.” Truman’s hand covered Matteo’s and it received a firm squeeze. “I want to have a word with the birthday boy. It’s about his present.”
Matteo let out a bored sigh as he looked around. “Fine. I thought I spotted someone interesting. I’m going to see if he has any weed or poppers and meet you in the bar, this party’s too dry.”
“I won’t be long,” Truman promised, then gave Matteo a gentle shove to get him moving.
“Ciao!” Matteo said with a lazy wave at Lonsdale, pausing to press a kiss to Truman’s cheek. He nipped the corner of Truman’s jaw, growling softly. “Don’t keep me waiting,” he pouted, just loud enough for Lonsdale to hear.
Pleased with the performance, Matteo sauntered off. He swiped a glass of champagne off a passing tray and flirted as he made his way around the room, then ducked into the servers’ entrance. The bare corridor ran to the hotel’s kitchen and Matteo had to dart around several curious employees.
“Don’t mind me! Just looking for a place to grab a smoke!” he announced as he rushed along.
In the kitchen, he was directed to the proper exit and found himself in the delivery bay.
A group of kitchen and serving staff were huddled next to the door and nodded at Matteo when he brandished his cigarettes and asked for a light.
There weren’t a lot of places you could smoke on the grounds of a hotel so Matteo was already acquainted with the regulars.
He made small talk until most of them put out their cigarettes or turned off their vapes and hurried back inside.
With a wave at the remaining smokers, Matteo strolled off, into the shadows.
Once out of sight, he laughed and did a little dance, then considered his next move.
He had plenty of time to hail a cab and get to the airport before Truman realized he was gone. With Sisi’s star, Matteo could pocket the reward money and immunity and flip on Lonsdale and Truman. He’d be free and damn near untouchable and the news of the heist would make Matteo a legend.
But now that revenge and victory were within his grasp, Matteo’s excitement was tempered and his joy was hollow.
He looked back, in the direction of the hotel’s bar, and imagined Truman waiting for him.
He felt triumphant at having outwitted Truman but Matteo’s stomach sank at the thought of never touching or even being near him again.
There was no doubt that Truman would land on his feet eventually.
He had enough connections and leverage to get out of anything.
But he would never forgive Matteo and it would never be safe to go near Truman after that kind of betrayal.
“Verdammte Schei?e!” Matteo spat and punched at the air.
He’d planned everything perfectly so he could be free of Truman and out of his reach.
Matteo had never cared about the glamour or the money but he had secretly enjoyed being the greatest thief the world had never known and returning Sisi’s star to his home country would have been the bow on top of a stellar criminal career.
There was only one thing to do. “I have to talk to Eli.”
Matteo pulled his phone from his trouser pocket and sent a one word text:
Oida.
It was their version of an SOS so his phone rang a few seconds later.
“Danke,” Matteo said, pushing out a relieved breath.
“Gemma. I have a paper to finish. They’re all up my arse about it,” Elio said in an impatient mumble. He probably had a pencil or a slide pressed between his lips or teeth.
“Super. I’m in a jam and I don’t know what to do. I can save myself, get a lot of money, and be a hero, or I can let someone else win and avoid making an enemy.”
Eli spit out whatever he was holding and Matteo heard the sound of wheels rolling, probably a chair. “I assume this is something illegal.”
“Eh, Kloar.”
“Leiwand,” Eli said and hummed thoughtfully. “And I assume it involves this Truman Tennyson and you’re fucking him?’”
“Eh, Kloar.” Matteo grimaced down at his feet. “It’s…complicated.”
“No, it is not. My brothers are horny idiots with soft hearts.”
“What should I do?”
Elio’s annoyed groan made Matteo smile. He missed the hell out of his little brother and ached to be near him.
“When have you ever given a damn about yourself or money or being a hero? You know what you want, you’re just afraid to admit it or deal with the consequences. What are the consequences, Teo?”
“Eeee…” Matteo spun back to the hotel. “Poldi and Theo will not be happy. Max is already worried. They’re right to be worried. He’s terrible.”
“I suspect you like that about him.”
“Maybe.”
That wasn’t why Matteo was spinning in the shadows.
Literally. He stopped and squeezed his eyes shut.
He heard Truman’s voice panting in his ear and felt the crisp huff of his breath.
The memory made Matteo shiver and his body tightened with anticipation and need.
He craved Truman’s lips and his touch and the way he worshiped and claimed every inch of Matteo’s body, even his feet.
Matteo also craved the unflinching asshole who had reduced Lonsdale to a sniveling wimp at his own party. “Fine. I do,” Matteo conceded.
“Is he good to you?” Elio asked but Matteo hesitated because he honestly didn’t know. “Is he good to you, Teo?”
“For the most part…”
“Wie bitte?” Elio snapped. “I will drop what I am doing right now and I will be on the next flight to New York. I won’t leave a trace of that fucking man, I promise you!” he whispered and Matteo shushed him loudly.
“That was obviously a joke! You would never say such a thing when it could be overheard unless you were talking out of your arse, ja? But he does treat me very well with the exception of the time I broke into his safe and tried to steal something from him. It was a misunderstanding,” he said quickly, even though Matteo would never, ever forgive Truman for it.
No one was safe if Elio knew how deeply Matteo had been hurt, though. And there was still a chance that Truman could double cross Matteo once he had the star.
“Are you saying you deserved it?” Elio asked accusatively.
“That time…possibly. Aside from his security roughing me up over the safe, he’s been an absolute gentleman. Too much of a gentleman.”
“You’re right. This sounds complicated and messy. You should go with it.”
“I should go with it?” Matteo confirmed, earning another snort from Elio.
“You won’t enjoy being a hero and you like it when Poldi’s pulling his hair out.”
“Very true… I think he likes it too, secretly. His life is so boring these days. He’d be miserable without Jonathon.”
“Voi. Are we good?”
“Ja,” Matteo said, chuckling softly.
“Baba,” Elio replied before the call ended.
Despite Elio's prickly, abrupt nature, he would always be there when his brothers needed him and there was nothing he wouldn’t do to support or protect them.
That was why Matteo had hesitated and couldn’t admit that Truman had broken his heart. Matteo was about to take a huge risk, handing over the star. He still didn’t know what Truman intended to do with it or if he was capable of loving anyone but himself.
Love isn’t everything and being a hero is boring.
Matteo was pragmatic enough to accept that all relationships didn’t end happily ever after.
They were good together—even when they were fighting—and who knew what other schemes Truman had up his sleeve?
The two of them could be an unstoppable team if Truman kept his word and didn’t leave Matteo hanging after his appointment with the Justice Department.
“Fine. Criminals with benefits it is,” Matteo said, heading back the way he came. He’d cut through the kitchen to the bar but he’d take his time. Truman deserved to sweat and what good was a magic trick without some drama and tension?