I hate these formal events, but what I hate even more is having to play nice when the taste of blood is still fresh on my tongue. I pull at my collar trying to loosen the bowtie. “Fucking hell.”
“You need to be calm,” Valerio mutters beside me. “You can’t look like you’re on the verge of killing someone.”
“I do want to kill someone.” I am still heated from the warehouse. “Two of my men were strung up on a lamppost like trophies.”
Valerio clears his throat as Mayor Collins walks past us with a smile on his lips. “We will get to the bottom of it, but for now can you please be calm. Where is your wife? Tell me, brother, is she allowed to drink yet?”
I elbow the man in the ribs and he doubles over, but instead of whining, he laughs. “Careful, Matteo. Your feelings are starting to show. And it looks like someone can’t take a joke.”
“I can take a joke—just not yours.” I give him an incredulous stare. “You are not funny, not back in high school or now. Now, where is my wife?”
I look down at my watch and see that she is late. I gave her strict instructions to be here on time. I’ll need to teach her about her tardiness.
I dig my phone out of my pocket and search for her number. But just as I am about to dial it, I hear the hushed whispers fall over the entire hall. I lift my head and look to the entrance where I see a woman dressed in all white, looking like an angel.
Wait, is that… Maria? The bartender places a whiskey in front of me, but I push off the hardwood and make my way to my wife.
My eyes move over her body while she is distracted by all that goes on around her.
My God. She is breathtaking in every sense of the word. The dress fits her body so well, like it was made for her. White is truly her color. But she could also wear Barbie pink and still look incredible.
Her makeup is striking, making the green in her eyes even more vibrant. A waiter passes me and I grab two flutes from off the tray, my heart doing little weird pitter-patters in my chest. I don’t miss the wandering eyes trailing over her body. An ugly green jealousy rears its head in the center of my chest. Then my eyes move from her face and down to her neck, and I still.
Why is she wearing that?
That necklace… It’s Beatrice’s. Something turns in my stomach as the flashes of brown eyes move within my mind. I push the feelings down, trying to regain my composure. I cannot afford to be so destabilized amidst so many enemies.
I roll my shoulders and make my way toward her.
Her eyes finally find mine and her lips part. I catch her eyes moving up and down my body appreciatively.
“Well, if it isn’t my wife,” I speak as soon as I get into earshot. I hand her a flute and she takes it with a small smile. I can tell from the way her eyes move from place to place that she is out of her depths.
“You didn’t wear the dress I sent for you.” My eyes remain locked on her neck.
She sips on the champagne and then looks at me. “Emily thought this one would suit me more, seeing as I am still a newlywed and all.”
“And the necklace?” I finger the pendant and a rush of memories fill my head. I remember placing that necklace on Beatrice’s neck and the way she had beamed at—no, I will not think of her tonight, her ghost already plagues me enough.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She looks down at the pendant. “I think it matches my dress perfectly.”
A muscle ticks in my jaw. The necklace. I shouldn’t care but I do. It looks good on Maria, but it belongs to a ghost. A ghost that still lingers in my mind, in my bed, in my goddamn heart. The memories claw at me—Beatrice’s laugh, the way she tilted her head when she wore this very pendant.
I shove the thought away, but it sticks—like blood that won’t wash off.
I ball my fist at my side to hold myself together. That necklace should not be on her neck, but I can’t make a fuss about it now. We are too exposed here for me to blow a gasket.
“It is beautiful but next time, I would suggest not wearing it.”
She tilts her head to the side, confused. “Why?”
“This one you just can’t wear, Maria. I don’t need to explain my reasonings to you. When we get back home, leave it in my study to be kept in my safe.”
“You can have it after you tell me why I can’t wear it, Matteo.” She grips her glass tightly and holds my gaze. Why must this woman be so stubborn?
“Your job is to obey, Maria. I don’t have to explain myself.”
She scoffs, eyes flashing with rebellion. “I am your wife, not a servant. You cannot tell me what to do.”
“Yes, I can,” I bite out. I see that she also has a knack for getting under my skin. After the day I have had, the last thing I want is to fight her. “We are not about to start a fight in the middle of a gala. We will speak about this later.”
“No, thank you.” She turns from me and sips her drink, disregarding everything I have said.
“Well, if it isn’t the newlyweds!” Dario De Luca comes into view with his wife, Ginny, hanging on his arm. Her eyes move between me and Maria as she analyzes us. They come to a halt right in front of us.
“Dario,” I sigh heavily and look to my wife, who looks at the couple in front of us with great intrigue. “It’s good to see you up and about. I heard the Russians did quite the number on you.”
That makes the smile on his face falter a little. “What can I say? I’m a survivor. Much like you, I hear.”
“Yes, you always manage to survive like the cockroach you are,” I throw it right back at him. The man easily gets on my nerves. He is a fairly young leader, thirty-five and at the height of his career. He is known to be as ruthless and cutthroat as me, but since being with his wife, he has softened. We have this love-hate relationship that we have established. “Ginny, I see you haven’t come to your senses yet and divorced this fool.”
Ginny cracks a smile and lets out a low laugh. She leans into her husband as she speaks. “It’s good to see you Matteo, it’s been a while. I didn’t expect that the next time I saw you, it would be as a newlywed.”
“Yes, well, I do like to keep you all guessing.”
“I heard you stole her from your boy.”
The grip on my glass tightens. “Watch yourself, Dario.”
The smirk on his face intensifies. “Just the rumors flying around. I’m offended, Matteo. I had the courtesy to extend a wedding invite to you, but you could not do the same for me?” He adds an extra effect by clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth.
“The amount of testosterone wafting in the air is enough to make me nauseous. Maria, shall we grab another drink?” Ginny gestures to my wife’s now empty flute.
When had she downed that?
“Yes, please.” Maria doesn’t even look at me as she walks away with Ginny. I watch her make her way with Ginny, arm in arm like they have been friends for ages. I should feel somewhat relieved that she is being friendly to others, but part of me is a little jealous that she isn’t so… warm with me.
But do I want her to be warm with me? I am as closed-off as they come. What is the use of her opening up to me when I won’t do the same? It’s only cruel to try and get close to her when I won’t do the same for her.
“I never thought I would see the day you put a ring back on your finger. A wife. We all believed that Beatrice was it for you.” Dario broke the thick silence between the two of us. “What changed?”
He is prying. Dario has no real concern for me. “You know how marriage is. It’s nothing but a business agreement between two families. That’s what yours was meant to be, if I’m not mistaken. You just happened to fall in love with your woman. My arrangement is nothing more than that.”
“So you took your son’s woman and beat him to the altar.” I can see the amusement floating in his eyes. Dario has always had a knack for getting under my skin.
“The union is better and stronger with me in it. Now mind your business, Dario. We have more pressing matters than my marriage.”
He holds his hands up in surrender. “Only curious, old friend. And what pressing matters are these?”
“Giacomo.”
As soon as I say the name, the amusement on his face dissolves and his hard gaze returns.
“So you know what he’s doing?” I give him my full undivided attention. “How sure are you of your intel, Dario?”
“We’ve heard the whispers. We know what we could potentially be up against.” Dario smirks. “If he knows what is good for him, he will stay far away from me and my business. Otherwise, I will put a bullet in the middle of his head.”
“Do you really think Giacomo is not a madman? The fact that he is pushing a new product should concern us all.” It seems I am the only one concerned. I know this man better than most. He has been silent up until a few months ago. He is up to something, and my gut tells me that a war is coming.
Dario’s eyebrow tips upward. “Don’t tell me that the great Matteo Davacalli is scared?”
I let out a low rumbling growl that escapes my mouth. “I fear no one. I am doing you a favor, Dario, by warning you ahead of time. Don’t get ahead of yourself thinking that you are some invincible man. You are still human, and not even you can account for what Giacomo will do next. The man is a deranged psychopath who will stop at nothing to get what he wants.”
Dario pats my shoulder. He is young and ambitious and has too much power at his disposal. “I appreciate the heads up, and I will look into what’s moving in my corners.”
“Okay,” I say under my breath.
In the thick of the conversation, a bellowing laugh makes it to my ears. It’s a sound I have memorized and engraved into my psyche. I whip my head to the side, and sure enough, I see the mop of black raven hair on the other side of the room.
As if he senses my eyes on him, he turns his head, dragging his attention away from the group he is with.
“Daniele…”
I have been looking for my son for almost a week. He just left Italy without so much as a word, and now here he is reappearing like a risen spirit. I can see the hurt flashing in his eyes before he blinks and looks away.
My heart clenches. I hurt him. I knew the truth and hid it from him upon his mother’s request. I move to take a step in his direction, but then I pause when I notice a flash of brown waves moving across the hall.
“No, Maria,” I mutter the words under my breath. “Don’t…”
There is a look of sheer determination and resolution in her eyes. If she starts something in the middle of this event, not only will it shake her down, but she will cause a scene and everyone will see.
I need to separate them—fast. I know how my son gets when he’s upset. And from what I’ve seen, Maria is just as explosive.
Maria comes to stand at the group Daniele is with. I see her say something that makes the woman hanging off of his arm laugh. Maria bites down on her lip, and even from here, I can see the glossiness in her eyes.
I don’t know if she is on the brink of tears or about to raise hellfire.
She and my son go back and forth before she grabs his arm and pulls him away from the group—out of the hall, away from prying eyes—my eyes.
Shit. I move, fast. Maria is about to start a war she doesn’t understand, and my son is too angry to care.
I weave through the crowd, my pulse hammering in my ears, but I’m too far.
Too late.
Maria and Daniele disappear behind the heavy doors.
