Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

MATTEO

I 'm in my home office, about to make a call, when the door suddenly bursts open, and Sofia storms in. She looks wild and ready for a fight. Her sharp cheekbones and the anger in her expression have never looked more Mom-like. She races to the desk.

"What the hell is Bella doing in the guesthouse? And her mom? And her roommate? What the fuck ?" She slams her tiny hand on the desk, causing stationary and other odds and ends to leap around. "You promised we wouldn't let her know this part of our life."

"I'm sorry," I say, feeling like the world's shittiest big brother. With all the mayhem, I didn't even think to keep Sofia in the loop. "But this was out of my control. Bella was attacked. Somebody was outside her apartment. If I didn't bring her here?—"

"God's sake ," Sofia cuts in. "I knew it was going to be something like this. Something I can't even be angry about." She dashes to the window, her body trembling like she's ready to scream. "Just once, I'd love if this Mafia crap didn't have to get involved in every single aspect of our lives. Don't you?" She spins to me. "Ever?"

"The mob is my life," I tell her. "When Dad passed, I promised I'd take care of the Family—of the city. What other choice do I have? Let any evil bastard take control instead? Let the city burn? I'm doing my best."

She frowns at me like she's thinking of saying, Well, your best isn't good enough . If that is what she's thinking, she doesn't let it show. Instead, she sighs and slumps in the chair opposite mine.

"How much does she know?"

"I'm not sure," I mutter. "Probably more than she's letting on. She's an intelligent person. Insightful. Humane."

Sofia narrows her eyes at me. "Is there something you need to confess?"

"What are you talking about?" I grunt.

"I'm talking about the fact your voice just got all dreamy like I've never heard it before. I'm talking about you having the H-O-Ts for my violin teacher …"

"You think I uprooted her family and brought her here, exposing her to the mob because of a crush ?"

"That isn't an answer," Sofia says, reminding me that, while she seems young, she's twenty-four and not blind to what we do here.

"A Gallo threatened her. He tried to kill me." When Sofia's expression turns scared and vulnerable, I almost regret telling her so bluntly. But I have to be honest with her, for once. "She's here because if I let her go, they'll try it again. This time, they won't just threaten her. They'll realize their mistake and finish the job."

"Jesus," Sofia whispers, shaking her head. "It's all falling apart, isn't it?"

I stand and walk around the table, leaning down and pulling her into my arms. She lets me pull her into a deep hug, wrapping her arms around me and laying her cheek against my chest.

"No," I tell her firmly. "Nothing is falling apart. I'm going to fix all of this. One day—wait—you and Bella will play the world's most beautiful duet together."

"Really?" She leans back in my arms, looking up at me hopefully.

A nasty feeling hits me for a moment, but it's there all the same. It's the vulnerability in my sister's face. It's the childishness. Part of me wishes she had to face the full force of this life, see the blood, and feel the responsibility.

Then, it goes just as quickly as it appeared. I'd die before I'd let that happen.

"Really," I tell her.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asks.

"Maybe make sure they get dinner and anything else they need," I say. "I have a feeling Mrs. Rossi won't be too keen to see me."

"Do we think they've made the connection between their missing man and the TNT shipment?" Marco says. His face is even paler than usual as if he's contemplating what would've happened if the assassin had been successful.

"Not as far as we know," Enzo says quietly, The Whisper keeping true to his name.

"How much do we know?" Elio says, arms folded as he leans against my office wall, his hair seeming wilder as he bobs his head as if to a tune only he can hear.

"Chatter," Vito grunts, the big man looking ready for a fight. "Street is buzzing with talk of the shipment."

"Trusted sources?" Enzo says.

Vito nods slowly. "Trusted … or scared of what I'll do if they lie. They know they failed to get you, Don DeLuca, but Orlando is arrogant. He doesn't think we have what it takes to outsmart him. He can't believe it. He thinks he will swoop in and finish the job the rest of his Family started."

"That's good for us," Enzo mutters. "If he thinks we're fools, we'd be foolish to persuade him otherwise."

"Hmm," I nod. "How many numbers do we have at the docks?"

Elio nods, too, getting where I'm going straightaway. "Around twenty."

"Pull fifteen away and put them on security for other businesses. As far as the Gallos are concerned, the docks are a low priority for us."

"Ah," Enzo says, smiling. "I see. They'll think we've overreacted and played right into their hands. The reduced security will make it even easier for them to smuggle their filth."

"Exactly," I snarl. "But when they get there … I draw a line across my throat with my thumb."

"A-fucking-men," Vito growls.

After the meet, I drive home with Elio in the passenger seat. The sun has set after a day of busy meetings, making sure the Gallo rats haven't hit any of our businesses and beefing up security as subtly as we can.

"By tomorrow midnight," Elio says, "this will be over."

"Let's hope," I say. "The last thing Bella needs is to live in this world one second longer than necessary."

"This is about more than Bella and her friend ."

I don't say anything for a while, focusing on the road. Yet I can't let go of how my brother's voice hitched on the word friend .

"Her name's Emily," I say after a few minutes.

"Huh?"

"Her friend, the one with the pink hair. Her name's Emily."

"Why are you telling me that?" Elio snaps.

"Maybe it had something to do with how your voice got all dreamy there," I say with a slight grin.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he snarls. "Just because you've lost your head over a woman you barely know, it doesn't mean I have. I haven't even spoken to her."

"But you've noticed her."

"Have I?" he snaps.

"It's normally difficult to get you this riled up."

He flips me the bird and then folds his arms, leaving me to wonder if I just accidentally struck on a nugget of truth.

"It wouldn't mean anything anyway," he says. "If I saw her and thought, Damn, she's fine , there's nothing I could do about it. I couldn't pursue her any more than you can pursue Bella. It would mean bringing an innocent into our lives."

"They're already in our lives," I point out. "Like it or not, it's the way it is."

"Not for long, though. Tomorrow, they'll be able to go back to normal." He looks out the window. It's like he doesn't want me to read his expression. "What have you told them?"

"Nothing yet, but they've pieced some together. It'd be difficult not to."

"Yet?"

"You heard me."

He turns back to me; now it's my turn to look away. "You're not considering bringing her into the fold, are you?"

"What else am I supposed to do?" I snap. Last night returns to me with full force and savage hunger. The way we kissed, and she moaned, and … "She's probably already guessed most of it. She's not an idiot."

"Dad made us promise never to let in any civilians. He did that for a reason—their safety."

"Like I said, she's already in it," I snap. "It's too late to turn back now."

"Says who? We've lied to civilians before. Or you could lock them in the guesthouse and tell them nothing. Sure, they'll be confused, but it won't make any difference."

"It'll make a difference to me."

"Why?"

I almost lie to him. Or snap at him and tell him to mind his own goddamn business, but I can't bring myself to do it. It's like I need to tell the truth. Maybe I'm just sick of all the deceit. "Because she deserves to know."

Elio says nothing. It's like I can feel him seething next to me.

"So you do like her, then," he says as we pull up at our walled estate.

"Are we twelve?"

"That's not a no."

"Yes, Elio," I say sarcastically, but there's nothing ironic about my words. Maybe I think making a joke about it can somehow lessen the impact. "I like her. Is that what you need to hear?"

"Just good to hear the truth, is all," he grunts.

"That's why I'm telling Bella who I really am."

When I pause outside the gate, rolling down the window to scan my thumb, Elio says, "What if she doesn't want you when she learns the truth?"

It's a fair point, even if he's only saying it to twist the knife. Something like fear slithers into me. It's deeper and spreads through me more fiercely than the type I feel in life-or-death situations. He's right.

When I tell her, she might never want to see me again.