He winced dramatically. "I realize I'm a sight at the moment, but I assure you I'm all right."
"What happened to you?" I asked against my better judgment. I didn't need to know the details of what happened to Adrian, not given his business.
If what Matteo said was true, he deserved everything he got.
"Matteo didn't mention he came to my home and beat me bloody for sending you a little gift? Went into a jealous rage, in fact. Most men wouldn't dare, but Bellandi is untouchable." He shrugged, as if to brush off the revelation.
Matteo had beaten the shit out of him.
I remembered the blood on his shirt that day when he'd come back and destroyed Duke. I'd been so distracted I'd forgotten all about it. "That's enough," Scar hissed, tugging me behind him and blocking me from Adrian finally. I wondered what had made him wait so long, deciding that Adrian didn't pose much of a threat to me with him right there and on a crowded street in the middle of the morning.
Still, his words about changing my route seemed even more necessary, given what couldn't have been an accidental meeting. Adrian had followed me, stalked me, and learned my routine. Exactly for this purpose.
It sent a chill down my spine.
"We were just talking," Adrian held up two hands, feigning innocence even as he winked a bloodshot eye at me.
"Think very carefully if this is a war you want to begin. There are plenty of things that Matteo lets you get away with when he can't be bothered to care. This will not be one of them." Scar nudged me, pushing me to turn back the way I'd come. I started walking in that direction, going slowly so I wasn't far from Scar's protection.
"To the victor go the spoils of war," Adrian said, a smile in his voice. I turned back to look at Scar, finding Adrian's eyes on me. "I look forward to seeing you again, little doll." Scar caught up with me, pressing a hand to my back and urging me to leave Adrian behind us. When I finally turned away from him, it was with mounting terror over what was coming.
He wasn't giving up.
✽✽✽
Days passed, with my life a static, suspiciously routine pattern of events. But the constants in my life remained absent, until the day Sadie sat on my stool, finally back in the spot she'd been neglecting in favor of talking Duke down from the ledge. I felt Duke's absence fiercely, the text that I was making his favorite brownies going unanswered entirely, where he normally would have raced to my house.
"Did you know?" I asked her, pouring the batter into the brownie pan from my stand mixer.
She raised a brow at me, acting like it was ridiculous to think she wouldn't. "Everyone knew, honey."
"Everyone but me," I sighed, putting the pan in the oven and closing it. I stepped around the island, plopping onto a stool instead of immediately washing the bowl. Sadie looked at me with wide eyes, and I knew it didn't get past her as seriousness settled over her features.
"He never made a secret of it. You just didn't want to see it," she whispered, reaching over to pat my hand. "Now that you know, what do you plan to do with that information?"
I felt my jaw slacken, shocked she'd even suggest what I thought she was suggesting. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you could give him a shot," she suggested. "He loves you, Ive. Always has. He may not make you feel like Matteo always has, but he won't hurt you. You could do a lot worse."
I nodded, because she was right. "I know, but it's just—it's Duke. He's my best friend. It would be like dating you."
"I mean, I'm sure Duke and I have very different equipment. Can't say I've ever gone there, but—" she giggled, and I laughed with her. "He's not unattractive."
"I know, but we grew up together. How can I cross that line?"
"Kiss him. That's the best way to see if there's chemistry, find out if you can see him in another way," she suggested. My eyes bugged out of my head, envisioning the image of Duke touching me that way.
It didn't fit, no matter how much I might wish it did. I didn't want to hurt Duke, and I had promised I would find a man who could love me and give me a content life.
It just wouldn't be him.
"I can't do that to him. Subject him to a life with someone he knows will never—" I broke off on a whisper. "I need an easy, simple date. Something with no expectations, just to show myself that someone else can make me feel like Matteo does. Set me up," I begged. "That guy from the gym you were planning on before this whole Matteo mess started."
"No way in Hell! You do not need to involve another man in your mess right now," she laughed, standing from the stool and grabbing water from the fridge.
"It's exactly what I need! A distraction from unrequited love and dangerous sex machines. Pleaseeee," I whined.
She sighed, staring at me in disapproval. "All these years of having to force you on dates, and you choose now."
"Don't pretend you didn't keep Duke's feelings from me. You both kept something from me I should have known. You owe me." I wasn't beyond playing on her sympathy, because if I knew Sadie, I knew that the guilt of keeping that from me for so long had been weighing on her. It was probably part of what possessed her to stay away for so long following the revelation.
"Ughhh," she groaned. "Fine, but this makes us even. If Matteo kills him, I'll take it out on you," she said menacingly, the warning clear in every feature of her exotic face.
"Deal," I said. I couldn't contain my excitement even in the face of Sadie's threat, which I didn't take lightly. She'd beaten me up with fitness before, she knew how much I hated it. She'd get me in the ring again and kick my ass.
But the freedom of knowing I was my own woman, and I could do what I wanted, was worth it.
I hoped.
Seventeen
Ivory
It wasn't often that I got to see my uncle.
So, when he came to visit, I held that time as sacred. As his favorite, okay only, niece, it was my responsibility to him.
And so, it was tradition that riding in the car with him on the way to the restaurant, I claimed the front seat. I didn't even care that it stuck my parents in the back; they were used to it. Uncle Adam always drove, a consequence of whatever Rambo stuff he got up to when he took off to places unknown to do things most of the government didn't even have the clearance for.
My Uncle was a badass.
"Where were you this time?" He'd been a Marine, some special task force or something. I'd been only a teenager when he'd retired and opened up his own private security firm.
"Florida," he said, casting an amused look my way.
I chuckled. "Well, that's horribly ordinary."
"Oh, it was torture. Having plumbing, modern amenities, and a roof over my head to protect me from the elements. I tell you; I'll never take a job like that again." He shook his head, pursing his lips.
Sticking my tongue out at him, I muttered a quick, "Smart ass."
"Ivory! Don't call your uncle names. That's my job," Mom inserted from the back. Adam pulled up to the valet, and we all hopped out of the car. Mom and dad had never used a valet, like me, but Adam did things in style, and we'd learned long ago to just roll with it. Because when he was around, he paid.
That simple.
When the valet took his Mercedes away, we stepped up and into Angel's, the little Italian place Mom and Adam loved so much. It wasn't within Mom's price range normally, so she only got to have it when Adam came to visit.
We always came when he was in town. The name had been a bittersweet reminder in the first few years after it opened, but I'd eventually moved on over the term. The restaurant boasted some of the most authentic Italian food in the city, and that was saying something for Chicago.
Stepping in the front doors always felt like being transported to Naples, not that I'd ever been, but I could imagine.
What was different about that night from all the other nights, was the man who came striding in when my mom gave our name to the hostess.
"Angel," Matteo whispered, bending down and pressing a quick kiss to my l
ips as his hand cupped my elbow. I floundered, staring up at him in shock.
Because, please sweet lord tell me he hadn't just kissed me in front of my family.
Please.
A quick glance at my father's reddened face confirmed that he, in fact, had.
Well then.
Poop scoops.
"Uh, what are you doing here?" I asked, stepping back from him and hoping he'd release his grip on my elbow.
No such luck.
"I saw the reservation and thought I should reintroduce myself. It's been a long time since I saw your parents," he said with a polite, gentlemanly smile on his face.
"How did you know we had a reservation here?" I whispered. His stalking really knew no boundaries.
"It's one of my restaurants." He shrugged, because owning a restaurant was just a throwaway business detail in the great lineup of things the Bellandi family owned.
"Of course, it is," my dad snorted, echoing my sentiments.
"I don't believe we've met," Adam stepped up, holding out a hand for Matteo to shake. His face was hard, set in stone. Even though Uncle Adam had never met Matteo, I knew that he knew exactly who he was. My uncle made me his business, and there was no way he wouldn't have kept tabs on the guy who fucked me over.
"Matteo Bellandi. You must be Ivory's Uncle Adam." Matteo took his hand, and it was subtle, but there was obviously a struggle for dominance working between the two men as they stared each other down.
"I didn't realize you two were an item now," Adam said with a grimace.
"We're not—" I started, cutting off when Matteo's hand tightened on my elbow.
"It's fairly new," Matteo smiled. "But I recognize the real deal when I have it."
"You didn't the first time," my father muttered, his jaw clenched tight. My mom's eyes were wide, staring at where Adam faced down with Matteo. She seemed to know there was something different from my uncle's usual protectiveness where I was concerned, something just off about the way Adam glared at Matteo but also looked at him like he might be a formidable opponent.
No one stood up to Adam.
Ever.
So that Matteo could and still smile while he did it, well, that was insanity to my mother. I could see the gears turning in her head, wondering about all the rumors that surrounded the Bellandi family. "Honey, you didn't tell me you were seeing someone," she said finally, a tight smile curving at her lips.
"It's new, like Matteo said. Didn't think it was smart to get you all excited," I lied, because the reality was, I never intended to tell my parents I was seeing Matteo. My father snorted at my choice of words, knowing damn well excited was a euphemism for pissed off.
Was that what they called it when someone inserted himself in your life and you couldn't escape?
Dating my stalker.
My parents would have been so proud if they'd known.
"Your table is ready, Mr. Bellandi," the hostess inserted, politeness stamped on every one of her features. I wondered if Matteo had slept with her too, but there was no trace of familiarity or jealousy on her face when her eyes met mine. If he had, he'd made sure she knew the score ahead of time and could be professional in the face of his girlfriend's family.
Regardless of how I felt about the temporary nature of Matteo in my life, I appreciated the discretion for my family's sake. They wouldn't take well to having my boyfriend's conquests rubbed in their faces.
Especially not with my history with Matteo.
"Lead the way, Ms. Favre," Matteo gestured, and it was a horrifying realization that he hadn't just stopped by but had every intention of staying for dinner.
"Matteo," I whispered, catching his attention as he guided me in to follow the hostess. "This is not an appropriate time. You can't just insert yourself to dinner with my family, especially not on the rare occasion I get to see my uncle."
"Ah, so you were intending to invite me to meet him another day during his visit?" he asked, guiding me to one end of the table. He sat me in the seat to the right of the head, smoothly lowering himself into the chair at one end. That in and of itself made a statement.
"Well, not exactly," I sighed.
"I thought as much. As you don't seem to want to make the introductions, I took the liberty myself." I could feel my uncle's eyes on me as he took his seat at the opposite end of the table. Normally he didn't care about posturing, and he would have taken the seat next to me.
I knew besides challenging Matteo; he took that seat precisely for the purpose of keeping tabs on me through the meal. Next to me, he might not see everything, but on the other end of the table, he saw Matteo and I perfectly.
I resisted the urge to bash my head on the table, staring at my empty wine glass in frustration.
I needed alcohol.
Lots and lots of alcohol.
My mom and dad sat next to Adam, leaving the seat between my mom and Matteo unoccupied. He didn't seem bothered when he took my hand in his, holding it openly on top of the table for my family to see.
A waiter came, delivering wine into all our glasses without being ordered, and I narrowed my eyes on Matteo's high-handed bullshit. Then I took a few very unladylike swallows of the delicious bordeaux. Matteo's jaw clenched as he watched me drown my inhibitions in my glass.
"So, Matteo, how's business?" My uncle asked, his voice sounding cordial. I knew better. Knew that beneath that fake veneer was a man who would kill Matteo if he thought I was in danger.
And he'd never go to prison for it.
I realized that was why I couldn't let on to my family that I was anything other than a thrilled participant in the ruse of a relationship Matteo crafted. As much as my feelings conflicted over Matteo, I just couldn't live with him being dead either.
That was why I'd never even considered calling Adam in the first place, but his sudden, unplanned visit did suddenly seem all too convenient.
"Business is booming. I own several properties, restaurants, nightclubs. I do very well. Your niece will never want for anything." Matteo smiled, the edges fraying as he addressed my uncle. Knowing Matteo, he knew exactly who Adam was—knew what he'd done. He knew that Adam likely had a thorough understanding of whatever illegal dealings Matteo had, and I knew the two men were on opposite sides of the law. In Matteo's defense though, Adam had never truly operated within the realms of the law either.
How you went about saving lives was insignificant, as long as you did. That was his philosophy, and it always had been.
"What made you come visit?" I asked, turning a beaming smile Adam's way. "It's not like you to just drop in without planning." His lips crooked in a bemused smile, and he shook his head at me in the same way he did every time he told me I was too smart for my own good—too good at reading people to waste away in my own kitchen. He wanted me working for him, always had. Getting a feel on his potential clients. For the first time, I considered it.
I had a feeling I'd want to leave Chicago whenever Matteo decided he was done with me.
Too many memories.
"I had a case end sooner than planned. Figured I'd come surprise you all."
"Coincidentally, as soon as you could get away after I was involved in a robbery?" I smirked, and he grinned at me.
"Complete coincidence," he lied. "I would like to know what they have done about it. Have the police found them?"
My father snorted.
Ah that was where I got my refined behaviors from.
"I suspect you know more about that than us," Mom laughed.
"Wasn't asking you," my uncle said, turning raised brows to Matteo. I turned to face him too, watching as he lowered his Bordeaux to the table after a generous sip.
"It's been handled." He shrugged, and my father stilled at the table, taking it as further confirmation that Matteo was dangerous.
Mom looked to Adam like she expected him to protest, require information about how it had been handled. But Adam merely looked thoughtful for a moment, before turning his attention to the menu in fr
ont of him.
"Good," he murmured. "Good to see someone around here is at least capable of getting shit done." Mom's horrified eyes looked from me to Adam, finally stopping when my dad cleared his throat.
"I think I'll have the lasagna," he muttered, and the conversation ended there.
I turned to Matteo, panic coursing through me.
What the fuck did he mean it had been taken care of?
He shook his head, signaling me to hold my tongue for the moment.
For once, I listened.
I listened, and I guzzled more wine.
I didn't need alcohol. I needed to be shit-faced to deal with that hell of a dinner.
Eighteen
Sadie
My fingers hovered over the keypad on my phone.
Could I really do this to her?
The answer was easier than it should have been.
I could, and I would.
Ivory was far too stuck in her own little world to realize that she had two men on her hook. She couldn't just bury her head in the sand and pretend they didn't exist while she added another man to the mix.
Hopefully, this would be exactly what she needed to pull her head out of her ass.
I dialed the first number, tossing back a shot when it rang.
"Yeah?" Duke's voice grunted on the other end of the line.
"Ivory's going on a date," I blurted, determined to keep my voice strong. I knew Ivory would be pissed if she ever found out, but I would always do what it took to protect her.
Even from herself.
"I told you, I don't want to hear about that shit," he snapped and slammed something around. Undoubtedly some metal scraps in his shop as he worked off his rage.
"It's not with Matteo. It's someone else. You should go, stop her from doing something stupid. She doesn't see you that way; it just doesn't come naturally after being your friend for years, so you need to make her see you that way if you want it to go anywhere."
"Is this one of those grand gesture things women are always talking about?" he returned, a smile in his voice. The metal stopped clanging, and I knew he was considering it.
Bloodied Hands: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 1) Page 13