Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

MATTEO

I press down on several apartment buzzers, waiting for the first person to answer. In this disconnected age, people are extremely easy to trick when entering large apartment complexes. Far too easy.

"Uh, hello?" an elderly-sounding lady answers.

"Sorry to bother you, miss," I say, using my most charming voice. It makes me feel like a sociopath when I pull shit like this, but it's all part of the life. "One of your neighbors has locked themselves on the roof. I've got the key to the roof, but silly me." Here, I make myself sound like a grandson or perhaps a nephew. "I've forgotten the main key."

"Oh, you poor dear …"

Just like that, it's open. I walk into the entrance lobby and hammer my fist against the fire alarm. Immediately, the alarm cuts through the entire building. Taking off my heavy leather jacket, I stuff it next to the door, wedging it underneath so that it stays open.

Then I walk outside and move off to the edge of the door. Soon, people start spilling from the building. One young woman, clearly hungover, groans, "Is this another drill?"

More and more people spill out, walking across the street toward a parking lot. I look at Bella, my instincts tweaking when I see her hands clasped together, desperation in every part of her. During the ride, I both hated and was so damn grateful for the fact I was wearing a leather jacket.

I wanted to feel her touch against my bare skin so badly.

Soon, she rushes toward the apartment. I remain where I am, registering her urgency. A woman with pink hair emerges, followed by a tall, lean man wearing a wife beater, his exposed arms covered in dark green and gray tattoos. He's holding her arm like he never wants to let go, his lanky brown hair bobbing around as he turns left and right, scanning the area.

"Emily?" Bella says, approaching them and raising her voice over the sound of the alarm.

"Bella!" Emily tries to move toward her friend, but the douche keeps his hold on her.

Bella glares at him. "It'd be a good idea to let her go now."

"Is that right, you fat bitch?"

Oh. Fuck. Big mistake.

Before I can plan and think of the repercussions, something takes me over. It feels a step above simply losing my temper. It's more savage, primal. I don't know. Whatever it is, a mini blackout strikes me.

When I "wake up," I've dragged the lean, tatted douche into the apartment lobby and punched him so hard in the mouth I feel one of his teeth embed in my fist.

"Mother fucker ," I roar, tossing him across the room so he slams into the wall.

He gasps, staring at me wide-eyed as blood pisses from his mouth.

"Call her fat again," I snarl. "Call her a bitch again! Do it!"

He raises his hands, leaning against the wall, all the fight draining from him.

"What's wrong?" Bam, bam, bam. I hammer him in the gut three times, each one harder than the last, causing the motherfucker to keel over. "Not as fun being a bully when it's someone bigger than you? Not as fun when I can fight back ?"

On the fourth hit, I'm sure I feel his rib crack. He lets out a pathetic sob and slinks to the floor, curling up into the fetal position. I pull my boot back, fully ready to kick him in the mouth and relieve him of the rest of his teeth, but then Bella yells. Or maybe she's been yelling this whole time, and I can only hear her now. "Matt!"

I look up to see her staring at me from the doorway. Her mouth is open in shock. Her eyes gleam with judgment and resentment. She looks at me like I'm not even the same species—like I'm a monster. I was right. I can never have an ordinary woman. It doesn't matter if Bella's the only person I've ever even given a slight damn about.

As she walks toward the door, my suspicions are confirmed when she hurries out of my way when I walk toward her. Even worse, she raises her hands as though she thinks I'm going to hit her .

I jog across the street, climb onto my bike, start the engine, and surge away, adrenaline pounding through me. Bella and her friend can find their own way home now. It's not like that motherfucker is going to give them any problems.

As I storm away and the anger slowly fades, practical questions erupt in my mind. Was I caught on camera beating his ass? Were there any witnesses? I can handle these problems, of course, but it's another complication we don't need right now.

Hell, when I heard him call her that sick name, something just snapped in me. There isn't a world where I hear somebody talk to Bella like that, and I stand there and don't do a goddamn thing.

Back in the club, I stare down at the sink as the water swirls the color of blood. I wash my hands, my knuckles pulsing and stinging as I rub soap over the fresh cuts.

Elio walks in, frowning at me in the mirror's reflection. "Dead or alive?"

"Alive," I grunt.

"Witnesses?"

"One for sure," I tell him. "Sofia's violin tutor. I'm not sure about anybody else. Plenty of people saw me drag him somewhere more private, though."

"Hmm," Elio sighs. "We don't need this."

"I know."

"Why, then?"

A dry laugh escapes me—surreal. It's like the whole world is suddenly a joke. "Because he called her a fat bitch."

"Plenty of douches out there hurling names at people."

"Yep." I splash cold water on my face, conscious of the adrenaline still surging. "How'd it go with the detective work?"

"We're still hammering."

"Good."

Elio tilts his head at me. "Are we going to discuss this?"

"Discuss what?" I grunt.

"Come on, bro. Don't make me say it. You've been in your feelings lately."

" In my feelings ," I repeat. "You sound like a teenager."

"Call me anything you want," he grunts. "The fact is, something's different."

"The Gallos are back. We thought they were gone. Isn't that enough?"

"Is that all it is, though?" he asks thoughtfully.

"It's enough," I growl.

He approaches me slowly, his demeanor shifting. "I know we need to stay tough in this life. We can't let ourselves get soft. We can't let the men or another Family see us as weak. But when it's just you and me, we can talk. You understand that, right?"

I wipe the last bits of blood from my hand and then walk over to the dryer.

"Is something going on with the violin tutor?"

I think about the texting and that she sent me a different video from the one she put online. Just the thought of it threatens to wake up impulses in me better left hidden, but with Elio, it isn't easy. He's spent so damn long learning to read me.

"Not really," I mutter. "We've texted and talked about music. That's it, but when that bastard threw those sick words at her, it was like I blacked out, just for a few seconds. When I ‘woke up,' I'd already dragged him into the apartment building. I swear, E, I was ready to kill him. To execute him for calling her fat. For calling her a bitch."

"This girl you met a few days ago?"

I shrug. "Yeah."

"So something is going on."

"Not yet."

"Yet?"

I grind my teeth. The surprise in my brother's voice is enough to remind me just how strange this is, completely out of the ordinary for me.

"I don't know," I say after a pause. "Maybe if I were a different man, I'd ask her on a date, but it's impossible."

"That seems dramatic," he mutters.

"Says the ladies' man," I say sarcastically since he's anything but.

He raises his hands. "Neither of us is exactly crazy for relationships. But if you want to ask her on a date, what harm can it do?"

"It will bring her into our world. It will make her a target. Sofia has specifically asked me not to tell her about the Mafia aspect, and I don't see a way for her to be part of our life without her somehow learning about that. Oh, and there's the fact that she just watched me beat a man bloody. She looked terrified of me." The memory makes me shudder. "She looked like she wanted nothing to do with me. Can I even blame her? What we do and are capable of is not the world other people live in."

He sighs heavily, nodding. "I wish I could say you weren't making good points."

"You see it too. Impossible doesn't seem so dramatic anymore, does it?"

"No," he says with a groan. "Fuck, Matt. I'm sorry. I wish you could have a normal life."

"We're in this together. Anyway, it's not all bad. We make this city better, or at least we stop it from getting any worse. Our men are happy and well-paid. They have wives and kids and lives and purpose. That's more than most people in our spot can even dream of asking for."

"You're right," he says. "That's all we can realistically expect. That makes us pretty goddamn sad, in my book. Yet what choice do we have? Give up? Let somebody else take over the Family?"

"Hell no," I grunt.

He nods. "Okay. Let's put out the feelers, see if there's any damage resulting from your scuffle with the douchebag. For what it's worth, it sounds like he deserved it."

My mind flits back to when he called Bella a fat bitch , but I have to redirect the attention quickly. Just thinking about it makes me want to drive back there and cause him more pain. I wouldn't just beat him bloody this time. I'd tear him to pieces.