Chapter Eight

Early the next morning, his cell phone rang shrilly, jolting him out of a deep sleep. Matteo blinked awake and groped blindly until he found it.

"Yes?"

"My office. One hour."

The call ended as abruptly as it started, and Matteo blew out a breath and tossed his cell onto the bed next to him. What he really didn't want first thing in the morning was a meeting with his father. He flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

After their intimacy, he had wanted her to spend the night, but he didn't want her to feel too much pressure. When he finally claimed her innocence, he wanted to make sure she was ready. So, reluctantly, he had driven her back to her shitty apartment, mentally promising himself he was going to move her in with him as soon as he could.

Rising, he headed into the shower. Ten minutes later, he reentered his bedroom and headed into his walk-in closet. He picked out a dark grey suit, a burgundy shirt, and a black tie. He punched in the code to where he kept his weapons and slid a nine-millimeter Glock into the holster under his jacket.

As he headed downstairs, buttoning his cuffs, Rocco walked into his apartment.

"There you are," Rocco said.

"Here I am," he agreed. "I've been summoned."

"Are we gonna stop for coffee?" Rocco asked slyly, glancing at him from the corner of his eye.

"Of course, we're stopping for coffee. We're not heathens."

It took about twenty minutes to get to Macy's shop, but she wasn't behind the counter. Her boss stood there, and it was obvious she knew exactly who he was.

"S-She's in the bathroom," the woman stuttered, obviously scared if her wide-eyed stare was anything to go by.

Matteo narrowed his gaze on her. "I take it you didn't tell her who I am."

"No, I, ah, I didn't. I wanted to…" Her voice faded.

"And you won't," he said. "Understood?"

She opened her mouth to say something else, but under his cold stare, all she did was nod. "Please don't hurt her. She's a good person."

"I know," he replied. "I'm not going to harm her. But I have no trouble hurting anyone who thinks it's in her best interest that she knows who I am."

Her boss blanched. At that moment, Macy walked from the back and gave him the biggest smile as she spotted him. A beautiful blush highlighted her cheekbones.

"Have you ordered yet?" she asked.

"No, I just got here."

She flickered her gaze past him. "Coffee and latte?"

He nodded. Her boss didn't leave, moving to get Rocco's favorite latte made while Macy poured a cup for him.

"You work tonight?" he asked her.

"Yeah."

"Can I pick you up when you get off?"

"Um, sure. You don't mind?"

"Not at all."

He laid down another hundred-dollar bill, grabbed his two drinks, and winked at her, leaving before she could protest the tip. He gave a polite nod to her boss, silently giving her another warning, before exiting. Matteo held the latte out to Rocco.

"Thanks," he said. "Ready for your dad?"

"I'm never ready for him."

****

"I have a shipment lined up next weekend, coming in on the freight. I want you to be there to make sure everything goes according to plan."

Matteo nodded, filing the information away. "Same distribution?"

"Yes," Pietro said. "Today is your day to meet with Roberto again."

"Yes, I'm headed there as soon as this meeting concludes."

"I want you to go to New York."

"Me?"

"This was your project. You have to follow up."

He glanced over at Rocco, who leaned against the wall.

"Problem?" his father asked.

"No," he replied, keeping his voice steady. "I'll make the arrangements."

"Good. Now, we have one more order of business." His father opened a folder in front of him and held up a picture. "Who is this woman?"

It was a photo of him and Macy eating lunch together. His heart raced first in fear, then in anger. "Are you spying on me now?"

"I have eyes and ears all over this city, Matteo. By your defensive attitude, I'm going to assume she's someone special.

Fuck! "Just a business associate."

Pietro's eyes narrowed. "Your little barista is a business associate?"

"Why are you asking me questions if you already know the answers?"

"To see if you'd tell the truth. Now I know she's means more to you than I first thought."

"Don't," Matteo warned.

Pietro leaned back in his chair. "She's not part of our world, son."

Matteo didn't say anything, only stared at his father, waiting for whatever Pietro had to say.

"A dalliance is fine, but one day you will marry the right woman. The woman I pick for you."

"I have devoted my life to the Romanelli name," Matteo said, trying hard not to let his frustration leak into his tone. "I want this one thing."

"I didn't say you couldn't keep her on the side, but you belong to the name. It would be best to remember that."

Matteo stood. "I can hardly forget. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a meeting to get to."

He turned and walked away, Rocco falling in behind him. They said nothing to each other until they were in his car.

"I want your word that you will protect Macy if need be."

"What?" Rocco asked.

"You heard me."

Rocco looked at the closed office door with understanding. "You think your father would hurt her?"

Matteo looked at him incredulously. "Of course, he would. He's got leverage over me now, so I need to know you'd protect her if the reason arose."

Rocco gave him a solemn nod. "I will. I swear it."

They arrived at Roberto's jewelry store, and like the other day, he ordered everyone out. Rocco went to the back rooms to make sure no one lingered, and to also turn the security cameras off. When he came back out and nodded to him, Matteo settled his gaze on Roberto.

"Diamonds?" he asked.

Roberto nodded. "They're in the safe. I cut them all myself."

"Good," Matteo said coldly. "Get them."

Roberto headed into the back, and Matteo leveled a look at Rocco. Rocco followed and a moment later, they both returned. Roberto held a box and he laid it on a display case before opening it. Under the low lights, the jewels sparkled like a thousand tiny stars.

"All are unmarked," Roberto said, reverently. "Flawless Type 11a. Almost all of them. I never thought I'd see such beauty."

Matteo thought they looked like any other diamond, but what did he know? "What's the estimated value?"

"There are no nitrogen impurities, most are colorless, but I noticed a few of them are pink, light green and light blue. All are extremely valuable."

"Ballpark."

"Millions."

Satisfaction filled Matteo. This was going to be a very lucrative sale.

"Am I p-paid in full now?"

"I'll let you know once I sell these." He carefully closed the lid and secured it under his arm. "I knew this would be a prosperous partnership."