by Cora Reilly
“Of course I wanted him dead, but not in his own fucking home at his Christmas party. Damn it, Matteo. Can’t you think first and shoot second for once?”
Luca was right. I should have chosen a better time to kill Bardoni, but he shouldn’t have talked shit to Gianna, and he most certainly shouldn’t have touched her. He’d dug his own fucking grave.
“I’ll call Romero. He’s keeping an eye on Aria and Gianna but we’ll need him here to deal with this fucking mess.” Luca ran a hand through his hair, sent me another glower, then picked up his phone and called Romero.
A couple of minutes later, someone knocked. Luca held up his hand to stop me from opening it. Instead he went and let Romero in. Romero’s eyes scanned the scene before him before focusing on me. “You killed him?”
I raised my arms. “Why did it have to be me?” It was a rhetorical question. It was almost always me doing the killing at improper times.
“Because you’re the crazy one,” Luca muttered, then said to Romero. “Can you make this look as if Bardoni killed himself?”
We all looked toward the dead asshole, hanging limply in his chair, lifeless eyes still expressing surprise at his early demise.
Romero grimaced. “Few people stab themselves in the brain.”
“There’s always a first time for everything.” I chuckled but fell silent at a look from Luca. “Oh, come on,” I said. “It was funny.”
Luca’s lips twitched but he was too stubborn to admit I was right. I knew he was more than a little glad that I’d gotten rid of Bardoni for him. “Search the room for a gun that could have blown his fucking head off. I don’t need the Bandonis on my back right now. I want this matter dealt with quietly.”
“No matter how we make it look, the Bardonis will suspect something. They won’t believe it was suicide. Bardoni was far too narcissistic to end his own life,” I said.
“Maybe I should put a fucking ankle monitor on you, too,” Luca growled. “You are a ticking time bomb.”
Romero stopped searching the drawers of the desk. “Even if the Bardonis suspect something, they won’t say it aloud. If they don’t have proof, they won’t seek retribution.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” I said. “But we’ll make sure they won’t get a chance for revenge.”
“Maybe you should pull your knife out of Bardoni’s head. Nobody will believe it was suicide with your blade stuck in his chin,” Luca said.
I walked toward the body and slowly pulled my knife out, then quickly took a step back before blood could get on my clothes. I checked my white shirt for any specks. My black trousers and jacket would hide blood better, but luckily I was clean. The same couldn’t be said for Bardoni’s clothes. Blood was quickly soaking his shirt and trousers.
Romero pulled a high-caliber Smith & Wesson from a drawer in the cupboard behind the desk. “This could do.”
“Good,” Luca said with a nod. “Matteo and I will return to the party. Wait about five minutes before you blow his head off, then get the fuck out of here. Matteo and I will hopefully be here first and in the commotion nobody will notice you are gone.”
Romero was already busy figuring out the best angle to shoot Bardoni and barely reacted when Luca and I slipped out of the room quietly and closed the door. The corridor was deserted except for Gianna who was lingering at the end, looking anxious.
“Make sure she doesn’t let something slip,” Luca ordered. “And we’ll have a talk about this fucking matter later.”
“Don’t worry. Gianna can lie if she has to.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt she can lie very well if she wants to. But she’s not exactly the most trust-worthy person.”
“She’s my wife,” I reminded my brother with a bit too much force.
“That’s the problem.” He walked off back to the party before I could reply, and I headed toward Gianna.
Gianna
I couldn’t believe Matteo had rammed his knife into that man’s chin. It had been a horrible sight, seeing Bardoni with dead, shock-widened eyes. He had been an asshole, and I certainly wasn’t sad to see him gone, but seeing my own husband kill him without a second thought had been horrible. Matteo had acted so quickly, no hesitation, no preparation. Every move had spoken of experience. I’d known he was good with the knife of course. Even in Chicago people had talked about his skills but it hadn’t prepared me for watching him actually use a knife on someone like that.
After I’d told Luca to find Matteo, I waited in the corridor. Aria had gone back into the living room; it would have looked suspicious if all of us had suddenly disappeared. And people were very eager to talk to Aria so her missing would definitely have drawn attention. Nobody would mind my absence however.
I’d barely waited for a minute, when Romero hurried past me toward the office. People always said I was unpredictable. I had nothing on Matteo.
I wrapped my arms around myself. My heart was still pounding in my chest, and I couldn’t stop checking my surroundings nervously.
I was still trying to come to terms with my feelings for what happened when the door to the office opened and Luca and Matteo stepped out without Romero. Luca passed me without a glance. He probably blamed me for the mess his brother had caused. I didn’t think Matteo needed much of an incentive to kill, but naturally I realized that I had been the reason for Bardoni’s death.
Matteo had acted out of jealousy and possessiveness. Seeing another man touching me had made him snap. Matteo scanned my face as he approached me. I probably looked pretty upset. The problem was I didn’t feel nearly as upset as I knew I should. I couldn’t bring myself to be sad about Bardoni’s death, no matter how much I tried.
Matteo’s movements were so lithe, so self-assured. And somehow, despite everything, I felt myself drawn to him, even to that dangerous side he’d showed me today. Matteo wrapped an arm around my waist and led me toward the front hall. Instead of returning to the living room, he steered me into a small guest bathroom near the front door.
“What the hell are you doing?” it burst out of me. “I won’t make out with you after you killed someone.”
Matteo gripped the back of my neck and pulled our bodies flush against each other before pressing his mouth to mine, kissing me hard. I panted for air when he drew back. His lips brushed my ear. “You look so fucking sexy. I could fuck you in a room with a dead body and wouldn’t care.”
“I don’t doubt it,” I muttered, but I didn’t try to pull back. His warmth and strong body steadied my trembling limbs. Maybe the events were affecting me more than I thought.
“But that’s not why we are here,” he murmured.
A loud shot carried through the house. I jumped. “What--”
“That’s why,” Matteo said calmly. “We’re going to pretend we had a quickie. We don’t want people to think we had something to do with Bardoni’s unfortunate end, right?”
He ruffled my hair, then his own before unbuttoning his top two buttons. He raised his dark brows. “Ready?”
I nodded.
“Remember we don’t know anything. We are shocked, and surprised.”
Matteo ripped open the door, and headed out, pulling his gun. The lobby was filled with other guests, most men with their weapons drawn. Confused looks were exchanged. Luca and Bardoni’s son ran toward where the gun shot had come from. Several people gave me and Matteo disgusted looks. They seemed to believe the lie Matteo wanted to. It probably helped that they all thought I was a whore.
“Stay here,” Matteo said. “I’ll have to see what’s going on.” He looked so honestly worried and alert as if he really didn’t know why a shot had sounded. Nobody would doubt him. If I didn’t know better, even I would have believed in his innocence after that show.
He hurried toward the crime scene. I could only watch in stunned silence. Matteo was a master manipulator.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Gianna
It was way past midnight when we finally got home. Most of the other guests h
ad left long before us, but Luca and Matteo had to stay as heads of the Cosa Nostra and pretend they were trying to figure out what had happened. Nobody had suspected them, at least not openly. To be honest, neither Bardoni jr., nor Mrs. Bardoni had looked too distraught. Their tears had been crocodile’s tears if I’d ever seen any. Maybe he’d been as unpleasant to them as he’d been to me in the short time I’d spent with him.
I couldn’t believe my life had changed from waitressing in Munich to covering up my husband’s crimes. After a quick shower, I slipped into bed. Matteo was still arguing with Luca in our living room. This was one of the few instances where I understood Luca’s anger completely.
I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling as I listened to their voices. The ankle monitor lay on my nightstand, mocking me. Maybe I should have used tonight’s confusion to escape. Luca, Matteo and Romero had been busy cleaning up their mess, and I had been without my stupid ankle bracelet. It had been the perfect opportunity. Then why hadn’t I run? I doubted anyone would have stopped me.
Because of Aria? I wished that was the only reason, but as I’d stood in the lobby waiting for Matteo to return, I hadn’t even considered escape. Why wasn’t it at the forefront of my brain anymore? Six months ago it had been all I could think about, had been an obsession that had consumed me, and now it sometimes felt that I only thought about running because I felt that I was supposed to do it.
It was confusing. I wasn’t as miserable as I’d worried I’d be living with Matteo. Of course, he was a crazy-ass killer, but it wasn’t as if I wasn’t used to that kind, and it actually made life exciting even if I hated admitting it. Living life as a normal person, doing normal things, earning money with normal jobs, had been an incredible experience, but for some reason it had never felt like more than a distraction.
The door opened and Matteo strode into the bedroom. He wasn’t wearing his jacket anymore and half of his shirt buttons were already unbuttoned. He flashed me his usual grin before he disappeared in the bathroom.
I could have pretended to be asleep to avoid talking to him but for some inexplicable reason I wanted to talk to him. When he emerged from the bathroom in his boxer shorts, flashing his lean muscled torso, I almost cancelled my plans. But that would really have felt too wrong. A man had died, albeit a horrible man, and having sex so shortly after his death would have felt utterly wrong.
Matteo slid under the covers and reached for my waist, pulling me toward him. His eyes were hungry. There was no sign that he even still remembered what he’d done not too long ago. His lips claimed mine and I let his tongue in, let the kiss consume me until my body was humming with pleasure and I forced myself to push him away before I did something for which I’d despise myself tomorrow morning.
Matteo flung himself on his back with a groan. “This is because of Bardoni, right?”
I glared. “Maybe I’m just not in the mood. You aren’t that irresistible.”
“If you say so,” he said in a low voice that sent a traitorous shiver down my spine. The bastard was way too manipulative.
I decided to steer this conversation toward safer grounds. “So will Luca punish you?”
Matteo chuckled. “Luca has never punished me for anything. He’s used to my proactivity.”
“Proactivity?”
Matteo winked and I almost reached for him again. Instead I pulled the blankets up to my chin as another barrier between us.
“Luca looked furious.”
“He’ll get over it. He always does. He would have had Bardoni killed anyway. It was only a matter of time.”
I had a feeling this wasn’t ordinary bedtime talk. “When did you kill your first man? Kindergarten?”
Matteo propped his head up on his arm, smirking. He ran a finger down my arm in a very distracting way. “No. I was a late bloomer in comparison to Luca.”
“Really? That seems unlikely.”
“Not really. Luca made sure I didn’t get in trouble when I was younger. He was a protective big brother.”
“I can’t even imagine Luca being a kid, much less him making sure you stay out of trouble.”
“He did. Is that really that surprising? Didn’t Aria try to protect you when you were younger?”
“She still does,” I said with a grimace.
“See. Luca’s the same way. Of course now I’m making it harder for him to keep me in check, just like you make it hard for Aria.”
“I think there’s a huge difference between the kind of trouble I stir up and the trouble you cause.”
“Give it some time. I have a feeling you haven’t reached your full potential yet.”
A laugh bubbled out of me. Damn it. Why did he have to say things that made me laugh? “You didn’t answer my question. When did you kill the first time?”
“It was a few weeks after my thirteenth birthday.”
“That’s what you call a late bloomer? Most guys that age worry about their sprouting pubic hair and not killing someone.”
“Oh, I’ve come to terms with my pubic hair a long time before,” he said in a teasing voice. “And most guys aren’t the second son of the Capo of the New York Cosa Nostra.”
“Good point. But Luca can’t really have protected you very well if you had to kill when you were still so young.”
Matteo’s gaze became distant. “He did what he could. Our father wanted me to kill one of the boys Luca and I had been hanging out with occasionally because he’d tried to get out of the mob.”
My stomach tightened. “And?”
“Luca pulled his gun and killed the guy before I could. Father was majorly pissed. He beat Luca within an inch of his life.”
The idea that Luca had done something so considerate for his brother was strange, but it wasn’t all that surprising if you watched how those two interacted. It was obvious they cared for each other, cold-hearted bastards or not. “Luca is huge. How could anyone beat him?”
Matteo smiled wryly. “Luca could have wiped the floor with our father if he’d tried, but he never fought back. Father was Capo and would have put Luca down like a rabid dog if he’d raised his hand against him.”
I sometimes forgot that things weren’t all sunshine and rainbows for men. They had more freedom when it came to promiscuity and going out but they had their own burdens to bear. “I guess your father found someone else for you to kill pretty quickly after that.” I’d barely known Salvatore Vitiello but he’d seemed like a creepy fuck.
Matteo nodded. “He found out about another traitor a couple of months after that. He made me slice his throat.”
Girls weren’t given many details about the induction ceremony, but Umberto had often let something slip when he’d guarded us. Usually the first kill of an initiate happened from afar with a gun. “He didn’t let you shoot him?”
“No, it was probably meant as additional punishment because I’d wormed my way out of killing the first time. Shooting is easy, it’s less personal. Using a knife is dirty work. You have to get close to your victim, have to get blood on your hands.”
I held my breath. His voice had become very quiet. Slowly I raised myself up on my arm. I wanted to touch him but I didn’t. “That sounds horrible. Could you do it?”
“What do you think?”
There was the scary shark-grin. The one that made me believe Matteo was capable of anything.
“You killed him.”
“I did. It was messy. He was tied to a chair, so he couldn’t fight back but it still took me three tries to cut his jugular. I was covered in blood from head to toe. I still found blood under my nails the next day.”
“Then why do you prefer knives to guns? You really don’t seem to mind getting your hands dirty anymore.”
“In the beginning it was to prove to my father that I was tough and that he hadn’t broken me like he’d probably intended. And once I got really good with the knife and everyone admired me for my skills, it seemed like a waste to give it up.”
I searched his face but
it was blank. I couldn’t tell if it was the whole truth, or if he was keeping the worst of it to himself: that he’d come to enjoy the more personal kill. For a moment we stared at each other until it became too personal again and I lay back down and turned on my back.
“Did you ever consider killing Luca? If he were dead, you’d become Capo. You wouldn’t be the first Made Man to kill a family member to climb the career ladder,” I asked.
Matteo’s expression hardened. “I would never kill my own brother. I don’t care about becoming Capo, and even if I did, I still wouldn’t get rid of Luca to improve my position. Luca’s got my back and I’ve got his. That’s the way it’s always been.”
“That’s good. It’s important to have people you can trust,” I said honestly. Loneliness was a big problem in our world. You had always people around you, but you could trust no one. There was only one person I trusted absolutely and that was Aria. Lily was too fragile and young for many of my secrets, and Fabi was a boy and Father’s influence on him was growing by the day. And I couldn’t even talk to them anymore.
“What will it take for you to trust me?” Matteo asked curiously.
“A miracle.” I turned my back to him and shut off the lamp on my nightstand. The look in his eyes had stirred something in my chest that terrified me.
Matteo shut off the other lights, then leaned over to me, kissing my ear. “Who doesn’t like a good miracle?”
***
Matteo’s arm was heavy around my waist, his breath hot against my neck, and the leg that was thrown over mine was cutting my blood flow off; then why did it feel strangely good to wake next to him?
I pushed his arm off and slipped away, and quickly got up. Matteo didn’t wake. His hair was a complete mess and his face looked honest and almost gentle in sleep. I reached out but stopped myself before I could actually brush my fingers over his forehead. What was wrong with me?
I took a step back. My eyes landed on the discarded ankle monitor on the nightstand and an idea crossed my mind. I snatched up the monitor and rushed into the bathroom with it. The thing couldn’t be destroyed with water. After all, you could shower with it, but maybe I could flush it down the toilet. Not that Matteo couldn’t ask Sandro to bring a new monitor, but the gesture would send a nice message. I plunged the monitor into the toilet and flushed. Unfortunately it got stuck.