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Something tells me it’s my husband-to-be.
5
Matteo
* * *
I wake early the next morning. The building is quiet, and the floor on which I reside is completely empty. I doubt Viviana is awake yet.
Once I head downstairs, I will be met with a team of my men who have yet to sleep.
With the war with my cousin escalating, we spend more time than I wish in the warehouse.
A full team is always on guard.
I know he doesn’t know about this location, so it’s not like he will launch an attack, but still, I like to be prepared.
I don’t bother waiting for the elevator today. Without Viviana, there is no point in taking it. Instead, I head for the stairs, figuring it will be faster.
When I make it to the bottom floor, I find five men in the main room. Two of which are sitting in front of multiple computer monitors, manning the security system.
The other two are sitting around one table and Lorenzo sits at the other by himself. It might appear they aren’t working, but they are. Their guns are always drawn, ready for a fight.
Each man reclines in their chair, coffee in front of them, and beside each of their mugs is a walkie-talkie for when they do a perimeter check.
“Hey, Boss,” Lorenzo says, as I take a seat at the table.
It’s early still, and I haven’t had my own coffee, so I reach for the pot and pour myself some. “Where are we at today?” I ask the room. “Anything on the girl? Does her father know she’s gone?”
“No one has come to her apartment,” Luka answers from where he is perched in front of a computer.
“Very good. Let’s hope this is all behind us before they even realize it.”
“Boss?”
I look over at Lorenzo. His brow is furrowed. It’s obvious from the way he looks down rather quickly to his cup and then back at me, he doesn’t want to say what he is about to say. I move my chair until it’s next to his. That way, whatever he needs to say can be said between us.
“Spit it out, Lorenzo.”
“I understand why you took the girl . . . but why marry her?”
“It’s the best move. Politically, Marino can’t run the risk of being on the outs with his daughter. He’ll bow down to my every whim.”
“But marrying her?”
I smirk at him. The answer should be clear on my face of my real motive, but I still spell it out for him. “She was meant to marry my cousin. . . “
“So, this is all a big fuck you to him.”
“Yes,” I answer, and I think that’s the end to this discussion, but he lets out a sigh.
“Matteo.”
I shake my head. He should just stop, but I will indulge him in this. He’s family and my trusted confidant. I just would prefer having this conversation in a more private location, but his voice is low, so I’m sure no one else can hear. “You’re tying yourself to someone.”
“I could do worse.”
He nods, probably realizing he has nothing more that can convince me otherwise. He then grins at me. “Well, she is hot as fuck, so there is that.”
I level him with my stare. “That’s my wife you’re talking about.”
“Future.” The stupid smile on his face spreads wider. Anyone else and my gun would be pulled out, but with Lorenzo, I allow myself to crack a smile. When it’s just us, I can let my guard down, even if it’s only for a moment, which is before I’m back to boss mode.
“Roberto!” I yell across the room. He turns around to look at me. Roberto gets shit done, so he is exactly who I need to take point on this. “Okay, tell me what we need to do to get this ball moving. I can’t wait to see the look on the dick’s face when he realizes I took away his only bargaining chip.”
“One day.”
“Then I need you to send in someone to get her prepared. Tomorrow, I’ll marry her. Make it Giana.”
Giana is my first cousin. She is the daughter of my father’s sister.
With that settled, I stand from the table and head back out of the room. I need to work out before I get started with my day. It keeps my head straight, helps me work out my frustrations. Being me isn’t easy, and this is my only outlet.
A shipment of drugs is coming in later this week, and I need to make sure everything is set up. I can’t have one of my trucks intercepted again.
There is a lot of heat on me because of my cousin. Before he went to war with me, trying to steal my business, I didn’t have to worry about the ports. Nor did I have to worry that I would lose a shipment. Now all I fucking do is deal with the remnants of his attacks. I don’t want to be on the defense. I need to strike first and strike hard on the offense.
