Witness: A Dark Mafia Romance (Romano Brothers Book 2)

by Samantha Cade

  “They’re waiting for me,” I say, my throat completely dry.

  I go for my phone, but Leo holds it out of my reach. He hands it to Mateo instead.

  “She’s right,” Leo says. “No one needs to get suspicious. Go with her, Mateo. But first, help me move this body to the trunk.”

  Mateo’s hands are steady as he texts Jenna back, telling her I’ll be there in a few minutes. I wait in the hallway, sitting on the floor with my knees in my chest, trying to block out the grunting sounds Leo and Mateo are making in that room. I imagine them hoisting the lifeless body up, the man’s arms flailing, and his neck hanging back unnaturally. I clench my eyes shut, trying to force these visions from my mind.

  I don’t know how long it takes them, but when we get to the car, Jenna’s pissed.

  “What took you so long?” Jenna asks, then spots Mateo behind me. “Oh,” she mouths with a pleased smile.

  “He’s coming with us,” I explain. “With me.”

  “Okay,” Jenna says, nodding.

  Mateo and I climb into the backseat. Tyler is in the front. His eyes are closed, and he has a wet rag draped across his forehead. He doesn’t even acknowledge us.

  “Am I taking you back to your house?” Jenna asks, starting the engine.

  “Yeah, thanks,” I say.

  “Sneaking boys into your bedroom? Naughty, naughty.” Jenna wags her finger.

  I want to burst into tears. I wish it were as simple, and innocent, as that. I wish, desperately, that I hadn’t just witnessed a murder, and hadn't been assigned a mobster babysitter.

  I ask Jenna to stop a few blocks from my house, and ignore the drawn out “oooooh” she sings under her breath. I kiss Tyler on the top of the head before getting out. He’s unresponsive to my gesture.

  This is a quiet, suburban neighborhood. The streets are dead at this time of night. Every house is dark. The only light is a yellow glow that comes from the dim streetlights. A misting rain has started up. I lower my gaze and walk quickly towards my house. My adrenaline has worn off, and I notice my ankle is throbbing painfully.

  “My parents can’t see you,” I say.

  Mateo’s face scrunches in confusion. “You’re an adult. Can’t you do what you want?”

  “Not really,” I say with a laugh, forgetting my real troubles briefly.

  “Are they waiting up for you?”

  “Probably,” I say with a sigh.

  Mateo flashes a devastatingly charming grin. “Don’t worry. I remember how to sneak into your bedroom window.”

  My breath comes out in a gasp. I have a vivid flashback of Mateo appearing in my window, the outline of his dark hair merging into the shadows. When we get to my front porch, Mateo disappears into the bushes.

  Mom jolts up from the couch as soon as I walk in. I can tell by her disheveled hair that she was asleep, but she greets me with a bright smile.

  “There you are, finally,” she says. “What’s kept you out so late?”

  Indignation rises in my belly. What business is it of hers? Mateo is right. I’m an adult.

  “Time just got away from me,” I lie. “We all had a lot to catch up on. Anyway, I’m beat.”

  I start up the stairs.

  “Are you okay?” Mom asks. “You’re limping.”

  “Oh,” I say, staring dully at my swollen ankle. “My shoes were a little too tight. My feet are sore.”

  Mom’s eyes brighten. “So, we have an excuse to go shoe shopping tomorrow?”

  “Maybe,” I say, rushing up the stairs.

  I pause in front of my bedroom door, wondering what I’ll be walking into. Mateo, a murderer, a mobster, and also a sultry dreamboat, is waiting for me. I open the door slowly. When I sense his dark presence, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. He’s standing at my desk, examining a participation trophy I got for tee-ball in the second grade.

  “Your room looks exactly the same,” he says. “This is crazy.”

  Mateo’s dark eyes fall on my bed. I wonder if he’s remembering the same thing I am, the two of us intertwined on top of the comforter, grinding against each other with raw, adolescent lust. Mateo was hot then, but he’s a man now. His coarse stubble casts a dark shadow across his face, adding to his rugged mystery. His body is filled out, and cut with hard muscles. And from the skillful way he handled my body in the broom closet, I can tell he’s got quite a bit of experience under his belt.

  “I’m not going to tell anyone,” I say abruptly. My voice is bolder than I expect it to be, and cuts through the heavy tension in the air.

  Mateo places the trophy down gingerly. “I know. Leo wants me to watch you. If I don’t-“

  “What?” I say, cutting him off. “Leo will kill me?” Mateo’s face darkens. I can’t help but laugh. “The guy who once bought me alcohol when I was underage is going to put a bullet in my skull.”

  “He doesn’t know you.”

  I look at Mateo questioningly. “Do you know me?” I shake my head, rubbing my temples. “I never should’ve gotten involved with you again. I know better.”

  Mateo squares his body towards me, holding his huge arms out to the side. “Whatever you think I am, or what my family is, you’re wrong. There’s a reason for everything we do, even if it isn’t pretty.”

  I open my mouth wide and laugh. The alcohol has left me with a nagging, pulsing headache, and I’ve just witnessed the most traumatic thing I’ve ever seen. To say I’m over it is an understatement.

  “Are you seriously defending yourself?” I ask.

  Mateo’s eyes bore into me, making my heart race. My smile drops immediately.

  “John was endangering people,” Mateo says in a steady voice. “A lot of people. Your friend, Tyler, for example.”

  I straighten my back with defiance. “It’s not up to you. We have a court system in this country. Anyone accused of a crime has a right to a fair trial.”

  “Do you know how long that takes? How much evidence they need to even press charges? How many people could die in the meantime? My brothers and I are much more efficient.”

  A memory invades my brain. It’s a vivid, jolting flashback. Mateo, curling his lips. The noiseless bullet. John’s eyes going blank before his face hits the desk. I gasp sharply.

  “I’m tired,” I say with finality.

  “Shit, me too.” Mateo rubs his face.

  “I need to change.”

  I stare at him expectantly, waiting for him to do the gentlemanly thing. But he doesn’t.

  “Could you turn around?” I ask.

  Mateo smirks, his eyes grazing my chest. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

  I want to smack that cocky smile off of his face. I thrust open a drawer and grab a nightgown. When I start unbuttoning my shirt, Mateo reluctantly turns around. I take off all of my clothes, wishing to be rid of the memories of this night. I’m fully undressed. The cool air stiffens my nipples, and my skin is covered with goosebumps. But I barely feel the cold. The warmth swirling in my belly heats my body through. I trace the outline of Mateo’s broad shoulders with my eyes. Part of me wishes he’d turn around.

  He doesn’t. I breathe deeply, getting a hold of myself, and slip the nightgown over my head.

  “Okay,” I say.

  Mateo whirls around. When his eyes fall on me, he blinks, stunned. I realize then how revealing this nightgown is. It’s made of thin, pink material that’s nearly see through. The darkness around my nipples is clearly visible. I hug my arms to myself, then rifle through the closet for an extra blanket and pillows. I hand them to Mateo, and he piles them in the corner.

  “I could steal one of my dad’s shirts from the laundry room,” I offer.

  “No thanks.”

  Mateo abruptly pulls off his shirt, revealing his chiseled torso. Tattoos snake around his waist and up his forearms. He throws the shirt to the side, then pulls down his pants, underwear and all. His cock dangles freely in a dark mound of pubic hair. I turn away, shielding my face.

 
“Sorry,” I gasp.

  “It’s okay. I’m not shy.”

  I divert my eyes as I climb into bed, though I accidentally catch a glimpse of his perfect ass as he lowers himself onto the pallet. I collapse on my back. My eyes are pried open, and I stare at the ceiling.

  There’s a killer in my bedroom.

  How can I relax with him around? And why, why do I wish he’d crawl into my bed and fuck me?

  ————————

  I’m warm inside the tight dome of my blankets. Sunlight filters in through my eyelids. My waking mind stirs, but I’m still held down by sleep. The remnants of a dream I was having flirt with the edges of my consciousness. I murmur, feeling his body press tight against my back, his cock finding the wet opening of my pussy, and sliding inside. It’s so visceral, my clit pulses urgently. I wedge my hand between my legs without even thinking about it, trying to find some relief. When I’m on the verge of making myself come, reality comes flooding back to me.

  I dart upright, clutching the sheets to my chest. Blinking, I allow my eyes to adjust to the light. I make out a lump, covered with blankets, on the floor of my room.

  That’s no lump at all. It’s Mateo Romano, sleeping soundly. The gritty masculinity he exudes is a sharp contrast to my frilly bedroom. His golden brown skin is illuminated by the morning light. His chiseled face is framed by his dark eyebrows, eyelashes, and hair. His muscular chest is exposed, and his arms spread out at his sides. The blankets at his crotch form a tent. I bite my lip, blocking the perverse urge to lift my nightgown and sink down on top of his, seemingly huge, erection.

  A glint of metal catches my eye. Mateo’s pants are in a pile just above his head. Looking closer, I see the metal is a very scary gun. There’s also a wad of cash peeking out from the folds of denim.

  Don’t forget what he is.

  I quietly get out of bed, pad through the room on my tiptoes, then walk downstairs. The house is empty. Dad’s at work, and Mom wakes up at ungodly hours to go to the gym. While waiting for the coffee to brew, I hear heavy footsteps upstairs.

  He’s awake.

  I walk upstairs carrying two steaming mugs of coffee. The door to my room is open, and I stop outside, my breath halted. Mateo is stretching his arms to the ceiling, completely naked. I breathe through the shuddering heat that runs through me. Balancing both mugs in one hand, I knock lightly on the door.

  When I walk in, Mateo is still completely naked, and grinning at me. I nearly drop the coffee at my feet.

  “Coffee? Thanks, dear,” he says, taking the mug from me.

  “Please cover yourself,” I say with a huff.

  Mateo grabs a small, frilly pillow, and holds it in front of his crotch. It doesn’t cover much of anything. The triangle of dark hair between his legs beckons for me to look there. With an arrogant smirk, he takes a sip of coffee.

  “You remember how I like it,” he says, somewhat impressed.

  I drink my coffee, but it’s too much, and too hot. I gasp awkwardly, choking the steaming liquid down.

  “My parents are gone,” I say between coughs. “Now’s your chance to sneak out.”

  Mateo cocks his head. “I was thinking about a shower.”

  “You don’t have to watch me today. I’m not leaving the house.”

  Mateo walks up to me, then pats my arm. “Settle in, Lily. I’m not going anywhere. By the way, Leo’s coming to drop off some of my stuff.” He walks into the hallway, whistling, and tosses the pillow behind him. I know I shouldn’t stare at his ass, but I can’t help it. It’s firm, perfectly sculpted, and the same beautiful tan as the rest of him. Mateo glances back, catching me, and shoots me a wink.

  I sit at my desk, hearing the steady thrum of the shower, and check the newest job postings. After witnessing a murder, it would be reasonable for me to forget my search for now, but I had to stay on task. Besides, I had to do something. If I sit still and allow myself to listen to my thoughts, I might go crazy.

  I’m updating my resume when I hear a tap at my window. My shoulders tense, rising up to my ears. I turn to see Leo staring into my room. I gulp, then go open the window for him.

  Leo’s perched on the roof. Without saying a word, he hoists a duffel bag through my window. I’m not ready to catch it, so it lands dully on the floor.

  “Where’s Mateo?” Leo asks, gruffly.

  “In the shower.”

  Leo nods curtly, his face as hard as steel. He turns to climb down.

  “Leo. Wait.” I say. He stops, staring up at me. “I want you to know, I’d never snitch on you or Mateo.”

  “I should trust you? What makes you think you deserve my trust?”

  “I’d never want to hurt you. I care about you guys.”

  Leo chuckles, rolling his eyes. Fuck this guy, I think. I’ve tried being reasonable.

  “If anything happens to me, you’ll get caught,” I say. “I can’t just go missing.” I dig my fingernails into my palm. What the hell am I doing?

  Leo leans in closer to me. “You’re lucky Mateo stepped in last night, or you wouldn’t be here talking to me. And no, I wouldn’t get caught. I know what I’m doing.” He goes to climb down, then glances back at me. “Do me favor, don’t string him along. Like you did before.”

  His words are like icy blades in my chest. Just how badly did I hurt Mateo? It must’ve been pretty bad if Leo looks like he wants to tear me apart. Maybe Mateo, the ruthless killer, has feelings after all.

  Mateo walks in after his shower, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. His wet hair is matted to his forehead. His chest glistens with droplets of water. He rips the towel away from his body with a smirk. I roll my eyes.

  He digs around in the duffel bag and puts on a T-shirt and jeans. He’s finally covered, and I can concentrate.

  “What are you doing?” he asks, making a grab for my laptop.

  I jerk it out of his reach. On top of everything else, Mateo thinks I have a good job. I can’t let him see what I’m doing.

  “Putting together a presentation,” I lie. “The office is letting me work from home.”

  “Can I take a look?”

  “No, um. It contains proprietary information from one of our clients.”

  “What client is that?”

  I purse my lips. “I can’t tell you.”

  Mateo sits on the bed, squaring his shoulders towards me. “I’m supposed to be watching you. How do I know you’re not sending a email, spilling everything?”

  I shoot him an icy glare. “I’m not an idiot. I really don’t want to die.”

  Mateo shrugs, drumming his fingertips on his thigh. “Fair enough.” He looks around the room. “So is this all you’re doing today? Staying cooped up in here?”

  “Pretty much,” I say, impatiently.

  I turn back to the screen, but I can feel Mateo staring at me. When I look up, he’s flashing that irresistible, dimpled smile. My heart rate slows and intensifies. My hands start to sweat, and moisten the keyboard beneath my fingers. Mateo’s smile deepens, his eyes narrow. He starts to lean forward, his hands crawling across the comforter towards my thighs. I know that look. I know how easy it is to fall for his charms. I have to control myself.

  I jerk back suddenly. Mateo doesn’t push it. He stays where he is, which is still very close to me.

  “If you think that we…that I’m…I never should’ve…in the broom closet-“ I huff, annoyed at myself for not being able to say what I think. “It’s not going to happen.”

  Mateo backs away, his expression casual. “Just looking for ways to pass the time.”

  I gesture to the laptop. “I’m busy, okay? And you can leave at any time. Don’t let me keep you.”

  Mateo sighs, standing from the bed. He settles into the armchair by the window, and opens an ancient copy of Seventeen Magazine.

  I turn my focus back to the task at hand.

  A couple of hours later, Mateo has fallen asleep, the magazine spread across his face. I’m in the stage of sending
off my updated, individualized resumes, crossing my fingers each time.

  You’re lucky you can plan for the future, I think. Unlike that guy from the club.

  I shouldn’t feel guilty, but I do. That man is probably anchored to the bottom of a body of water, fish nibbling on his rotting skin. His family is probably looking for him, desperate he’ll come back.

  I should go to someone, the police, my parents, someone.

  I don’t have that choice. I’ve seen enough mafia movies to know that I wouldn’t just be putting myself in danger, but those I care about too.

  I’m scrolling mindlessly, almost manically, through my social media feeds, seeing my smiling friends and acquaintances enjoying their faux, filtered lives. My phone vibrates on my desk. I place the laptop on the bed, and stand up. Mateo beats me there. He throws the magazine from his face and lunges over there.

  “It’s Jenna,” Mateo announces, handing the phone to me.

  I furrow my brows as I read the message. “She says Tyler’s in recovery, and he requests my presence.”

  “Finally,” Mateo says, breathing with relief. He pulls on his leather jacket. “Let’s go.”

  “I can’t go with you,” I say.

  “Why not? I was with you last night.”

  “That was easily explainable. Like, a one night stand kind of thing.”

  “This is easily explainable too.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Yes, it is.” Mateo leans forward, kissing me briefly on the forehead. “Just tell them I’m your boyfriend.” He waltzes to the door and opens it for me. “After you, darling,” he says, mockingly.

  I do my best to sneer at him, though I can still feel his kiss burning on my forehead.

  Chapter Six

  ————————

  Mateo

  It’s kind of interesting, when it’s not mind numbingly boring, following Lily around. It gives me a chance to see how someone else lives. I get so caught up in the day to day drama of my job, I forget people have realities that are different from mine.

  For example, we’re going to her friend’s house. This is just a simple visit. There’s no possibility of violence, money to collect, or someone getting shot up. I don’t even need to be strapped. But I carry my gun anyway. I feel naked without it.