Page 82 of Cavaliere

My gaze slides to Alessio. Making sure to keep my face neutral, I slightly raise one eyebrow. What the fuck? I’m all about having the top security around. When you live this life, you know it isn’t going to be a long one, but you sure as hell aren’t going to make the job of whoever wants you dead easier.

But this?

There’s a fine line between having an ironclad system and being paranoid as fuck. This has crossed into being paranoid as fuck.

“He’ll see you in his office.” The guard firmly knocks twice on the door, waiting for permission to be let in and then opening the door.

Nicholas’ office is what you would expect from a seventy-year-old Mafia boss. The place doesn’t look like it’s been redone since he built it. Thick, gold accents clutter the room. It looks like my vomit after a night of drinking too much scotch.

“I don’t think you’ve ever requested a meeting with just me before, Matteo,” Nicholas says from where he’s standing with his back to us in front of the floor-to-ceiling window on the far wall. Another armed guard is standing next to it. “So naturally, that makes me question what this would even be about.”

I stay silent as I stare at his back, waiting for him to turn around. I’ll be damned if I let this piece of shit disrespect me like this. If he wants to have a conversation like two grown men, then he can turn around and look me in the eyes. We’re both bosses here. I’m not one of the pussies he hides behind.

What feels like a lifetime, but in reality, was probably only five minutes pass before Nicholas slowly turns around in the most dramatic way possible.

“Have a seat, gentlemen.” Nicholas plasters a charming smile on his face as he extends his arm out toward the chairs stationed in front of his desk, which also has a disgusting amount of gold on it. Does he know there are other colors? “I see no better time than right now to make a dent in the new shipment of cigars I just got in. Scotch?” he asks while pouring himself a drink from the crystal decanter that decorates the beverage cart.

“Cut the bullshit, Nicholas,” I say, taking a seat. “This isn’t a social visit, and you fucking know it. Don’t insult me by pretending like you don’t know what the fuck is going on.”

I watch the fake smile fall off of his face. “Spit it out then. I don’t have all day.”

A long sigh escapes me before I can stop it. “I consider myself a patient man, Nicholas, I really do. But, you’re really trying me right now.”

“I don’t see how, considering I still do not know what this visit pertains to,” Nicholas scuffs.

“Christos.” My tone hardens as his name rolls off of my tongue.

“What about him?” Nicholas asks.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know why you would think you're privy to that information.”

“Cut. The. Bullshit,” I growl. “I know you’re not a stupid man, Nicholas. You know exactly why I want to know where the fuck he is.”

“I have nothing to do with this,” Nicholas snaps.

“And we’re just supposed to take your word for it?” Alessio calmly asks.

Nicholas scuffs. “Now who's the one insulting me? I’ve never given you a reason not to.”

Alessio remains calm and unfazed by this whole conversation. But me? I’m ready to fucking kill this guy. I never get rattled like this. Do I love the kill as much as the next guy? Of course. But I never let it show. I’m always the Alessio in a situation like this, but this one is different. It’s personal.

My fist slams down on the desk before I can stop myself. The gaudy gold frame with a picture of his sleazy ass and his mistress shatters on the ground. I can hear the commotion behind me of guns being drawn as Alessio and Nicholas’ guards yell at each other.

“This is the last chance I’m giving you to tell me where the fuck he is!” I roar.

Nicholas’ face is beat red as he puffs his chest out, slamming his fist down next to mine. “This is my fucking house, Matteo. My house.” Nicholas pauses as he stares me down, chest rising and falling rapidly in anger or because he’s out of fucking shape. Probably the latter. “I suggest you watch how you speak to me. I can have twenty men in here filling you full of bullets before you even take your next breath.”

A loud, manic laugh rushes out of me. “You are always the fucking idiot that underestimates everyone. Call your men, but they’ll find your dead body before they find mine. And then they’ll have to deal with Gio. I think you know Gio wouldn’t stop until every single one of them is tortured. Only then might he put them out of their misery. If they beg enough, that is.”

I can see the hesitation swirling behind his eyes as his gaze darts around the room. He knows I’m not exaggerating about any of it. Yeah, you’re fucked, buddy.

“Do you have anything you would like to tell me?” I ask, straightening my suit jacket as I regain my composure.

Five minutes pass, Nicholas and I just staring at each other before he finally lets out a sigh of defeat. “I don’t know where he is.”

“Not good enough.” It’s insulting that he thinks I would buy that vague fucking answer.