It seems easier to stay at Dominic’s instead of going home. I know Matteo will show up in the middle of the night, and I need time to digest everything I’ve learned today.
When Matteo texts to ask where I am around midnight, I don’t respond. There are so many questions bubbling up inside me.
Can I trust him to tell me the truth when he’s done everything in his power to keep me ignorant?
He texts once. Then he calls. I turn off my phone after the second attempt and roll over to try to fall asleep. But I can’t. My mind is too filled with Matteo. Like a specter, he haunts me for the rest of the night.
When I wake in the morning, my eyes feel gritty, and I’m exhausted. As much as I would love to stay in bed for a few more hours, I can’t. I have two classes I can’t afford to miss. I need to hustle home and take a shower before heading to campus.
By the time I make it down to the kitchen, Dominic has left for the day, and Maria has a steaming cup of coffee waiting in a to-go cup. Holding it, I savor the scent of roasted, freshly ground beans.
“Mmmmm, smells good, Maria. Thank you.”
“Mr. Grimaldi wanted to make sure you had a cup to take with you. And Henry is waiting to take you downtown.”
I nod. Dominic is so considerate.
If I were smart, I would accept the feelings he has for me. Is it possible for my feelings to deepen? Maybe. I can’t deny the strong connection between us. We have a friendship that tightly binds us. Marriages have been founded on less than mutual love and respect.
As much as I wish I could love Dominic differently, I can’t.
It doesn’t feel right.
I think we’re better off with what we have.
“I’m going to grab my purse, and I’ll be on my way.”
“Very good, Miss Grace.”
There’s a ton of traffic going into the city despite the early hour. My class doesn’t begin until ten, so I have plenty of time. I can always skip the shower, run up, grab my bag for school, and have Henry drop me off on campus if necessary.
When we’re halfway to Lexington Place, I fish my phone out of my purse. I haven’t looked at it this morning. I’m afraid of what I’ll find. But avoidance is no longer the way I want to handle the unpleasant parts of my life. I lived that way for two years. I can’t do it any longer.
Pressing a button, I turn my phone on and wait as it comes to life. Once the home screen lights up, I see five missed calls and an equal amount of unread texts.
Not all of them are from Matteo.
Chloe texted twice to check in.
And Jonathan texted and called asking what I decided to do regarding my situation. He doesn’t use any names and I wonder if he’s worried that my phone is being tapped. After he realized someone was watching us, the notion isn’t too ludicrous.
I’m still blown away that Dominic hired someone to watch me.
We roll up in front of Lexington Place shortly before eight o’clock. I thank Henry and hop out with my purse and coffee in hand. Normally I drink one cup, but I can tell this is going to be a morning when a second cup is needed to power through the day. I don’t have to volunteer, so I can come home later and take a nap.
George opens the door as I rush toward it. I give him a smile before heading to the elevator. Minutes later, I’m inside my condo. I didn’t expect to find Matteo waiting for me, but…
Okay, I don’t know what I expected. I’m confused about where my feelings for him stand right now.
Stripping off my clothes, I jump in the shower. As hot water pours over my body, I feel my muscles loosen. The tension that had coursed through me goes down the drain. Closing my eyes, I lather my hair and let the spray rinse away the suds.
By the time I step out of the steamed-up glass enclosure, I feel more settled regarding what needs to be done. I grab a towel and dry my hair before rubbing my body. Then I wrap it around my chest, tucking in the end so the towel stays put as I walk into the bedroom to get dressed.
Partway to my dresser, my eyes land on the chair in the corner.
And the man sitting on it.
Clad in a black suit and wingtips, Matteo’s long legs are stretched out in front of him. His body is angled forward, elbows propped on his knees. The tips of his fingers are steepled as his dark eyes pin mine.
My hand flies to my chest as if that will stop my heart from exploding.
“Matteo! What are you doing here?”
He doesn’t say a word. I shift, uncomfortably aware that I’m wrapped in a towel that hits mid-thigh.
Ignoring my question, he asks one of his own. “Where were you last night?”
Everything I’ve recently discovered rushes back to me. Mafia connections, the pictures of other women, the possibility that he’s dangerous.
Squaring my shoulders, I say, “I spent the night at Dominic’s.”
His expression darkens. “Tell me what you’ve found out.”
My blood turns to ice. I didn’t expect him to realize so quickly that something was wrong. Maybe I thought he would continue pretending that he’s not keeping secrets from me. He’s never been forthcoming with information, so why would that change now? Clutching my towel, I swallow hard.
Without thinking, I blurt, “Your family is part of the mafia.”
Matteo’s face is an emotionless mask. “What else?”
“I’m not the only woman you’ve been seeing.”
He doesn’t blink. “And?”
“You’re dangerous.”
“Is that what you think, bella?” His obsidian gaze continues holding mine from across the room. “That I’m dangerous?”
The questions are voiced calmly. And yet I hear the steel lurking below the surface.
Do I think that Matteo is dangerous?
Do I believe what Chloe, Jonathan, and Dominic have said?
My response is equally quiet. “I think you could be.”
“Anyone is dangerous under the right circumstances.” He pauses. “Even you.”
Unable to move or breathe, I stand rooted in place. My toes curl into the area rug.
“Do I scare you?”
His question rattles around in my head. My shoulders slump as my guard drops. “No.” Matteo does not frighten me. He probably should, but he doesn’t. Maybe, like Dominic said earlier, I’m too naïve to see Matteo for who he truly is.
You know what does scare me?
The way I feel when I’m with him. The sheer addictiveness of it. The possibility that no one else will ever be able to make me feel this way again.
I don’t want to lose that. Not yet. Not ever.
He leans back in the chair. “Come here, Grace.”
I should keep my distance. He hasn’t addressed any of my concerns. I know what will happen if he gets his hands on me. It’s what happens every time I’m near him.
When I don’t move, he repeats himself. “Come here, bella.”
Another part of me-possibly my heart-overrides my brain and propels me forward until I stand in front of him.
His eyes sear mine, holding them captive.
“As for my family being involved in the Cosa Nostra, that’s true. My father’s great grandparents came over from Sicily in the late eighteen hundreds looking for work. But it wasn’t easy for Italians in New York at that time. No one wanted to hire them. We were looked down upon, like dogs. So the family banded together and found alternative ways to protect their own and prosper. It started out with gambling and liquor and evolved from there. For a long time, the Valentini famiglia ruled New York. When Chicago began to grow, we sensed opportunity and expanded. My father’s side of the family has been here ever since. During the ’twenties, bootlegging became a means of strength and money. And with it, our influence became even more far-reaching. That remains unchanged today. The Valentini name carries great power with it. I’m proud of who I am and where I come from, bella. Never doubt it.”
I remain silent as I greedily soak up every word that comes out of his mouth. My body vibrates with the knowledge that he is allowing me a small glimpse into his world.
“I should have told you the truth myself so that you wouldn’t have to hear it from others. I apologize for that. It’s not the way I wanted you to find out. I thought I had more time.” He runs a hand through his inky black hair. “I liked that you didn’t have any preconceived notions about who I was. With you, I could be myself more than I have ever been with anyone else.”
What he’s revealed confirms all the rumors I’ve heard. Matteo’s family is part of the mafia. Matteo is involved with the mafia. Or the Cosa Nostra as he called it. I have so many questions. But part of me is afraid of the answers I’ll receive. I’m scared of the decisions they might force me to make.
Matteo continues, his voice dangerously low. “The Valentini family and the businesses we’re involved in- they have nothing to do with us.” His eyes search mine. “That part of my life has nothing to do with you.”
My tongue peeks out to moisten my lips. My heart thuds against my ribcage. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation or that, up until a few days ago, I had no idea who Matteo was.
“If you have questions, ask them now. I can’t promise to answer all of them. There are some things I can’t discuss. This isn’t me trying to keep secrets. This is me trying to protect you. Do you understand the difference?”
I nod. “What your family does… is it illegal?”
He gives me a hard stare. One that makes my entire body quiver.
“Yes. Although, more of it is legitimized than it once was.”
I really shouldn’t ask… “What kind of illegal things?”
His expression darkens, becoming more closed-off. “That isn’t a question I’m going to answer.”
I nod again, knowing that I’ve stepped over the imaginary line he’s drawn between us. “Okay.”
“What else?”
It might push the limits, but I have to know. “Are you involved in anything illegal?”
“For the most part, no. Like I said before, I own three restaurants and some other properties.”
“Covet,” I interject. “You own that too, right?”
He doesn’t seem surprised that I know about the upscale, risqué nightclub. “Yes. I own Covet.” He pauses. “Your friend works there.”
It’s not a question. “Yes.”
Just as I have found out information, so has Matteo. “Chloe Banks?”
I nod.
“Is she the one who told you about me?”
That’s not a question I’m going to answer. Chloe is my best friend, and I’ll protect her any way I can. “All that matters is that the person who should have told me about this didn’t.”
He dips his head. “Fair enough. I should have told you the truth about my family, about me, when I knew that you were someone I wanted to be with.” He shrugs. “But I liked that you didn’t know who I was. To you, I was just Matteo. I wasn’t a Valentini. I wasn’t someone to be feared, avoided, or fussed over.”
My heart skips a beat. “Should I fear you?” It doesn’t escape me that everyone who cares about me feels exactly the way he just described. They’re scared for me. They don’t want me involved with him.
Eyes on mine, he shakes his head. “Have I ever given you any reason to fear me?”
“No,” I reply without hesitation. “Never.”
“Then I think you have your answer.”
I close my eyes to gather the courage to ask one more question. In light of everything he’s revealed, maybe this shouldn’t matter, but it does. “Are you seeing other women?”
“Not anymore.”
Which means he was in the beginning. Those pictures are real.
I hate the jealousy that crashes through me with his admittance. “When did you stop?” Just as Matteo is holding back information from me, I do the same. I have no intention of telling him about Dominic hiring someone to follow him or the photographs that were taken.
The evidence that was used to persuade me to turn against him.
“After we spent the weekend together.” He watches me closely, trying to gauge my reaction. “Do you believe me?”
I don’t know what to believe anymore. What I saw in those photographs broke my heart. They made me feel expendable. And that’s a deal breaker for me.
“I don’t know.”
“Bella,” sounding stripped bare, the word slides from his lips, “there is no one else. Only you. I knew you were special the first time I saw you. I tried fighting the feelings you roused in me, but I couldn’t.” He sweeps his arms out wide. “I’m begging you to overlook all the ways I’ve fucked up. You’re the only woman I want. This…” his gaze burns into mine, “all these feelings are new to me. I’m not comfortable with them yet. But I want you, Grace. I want to make us happen.”
I want to believe him.
God, I want so badly to believe that he’s telling the truth. That he’s opening his heart to me.
With his eyes locked on mine, he reaches up and tugs off my towel. It falls to the floor.
And then I’m completely naked.
“This body,” his eyes greedily rove over every inch of me, “is the only one I want.” Matteo takes hold of my fingers and reels me toward him. I should resist and take time to digest everything he just told me. But I don’t because I still want him.
What kind of person does that make me?
He settles me on his lap and bands his arms around me, holding on as if he’ll never let go.
“I haven’t given you much reason to trust me. But you need to know that I would never hurt you. Nor would I put you in harm’s way.” He brushes his lips over mine. He doesn’t seek entrance, but I open for him, silently begging for more. Instead of delving in, he teases me with soft strokes.
“Do you believe me?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of us in the mirror leaning against the wall. Matteo is fully dressed while I sit naked on his lap, held tenderly in his arms. I feel the moment he also sees us. His arms tighten around me.
“You’re so beautiful.”
His lips graze my throat. I arch, allowing him greater access. With one arm under my legs, he lifts them until my lower lips are visible in the looking glass. I gasp when his fingers dip between my legs.
He whispers, “Don’t ever run from me, bella. You’re mine now.”