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“My father and Richard Eddington were good friends. As such, he was aware of the animosity between our families. One night at the club, Richard mentioned that your uncle Renzo had built up a bit of gambling debt. Twenty thousand dollars, to be exact.”
Tony’s gaze fell to the paper. Matt knew why. The numbers didn’t add up. “I convinced Richard to extend your uncle more credit. Told him I would cover the loan, buy the marker. We agreed on a number and then Renzo dug the hole. That’s the one reliable thing about gamblers. They’re always certain they can solve their problems with just one more deal of the cards.”
Richard was as big an asshole as Matt’s dad, and he’d been all too happy to agree to Matt’s scheme, pleased to be a part of the twisted game his family liked to play with the Morettis. He could recall the way he, Dad, and Richard had all clinked their glasses of Scotch together, amused by the thought of playing God, destroying a man simply because they could.
“You made sure he got in too deep, over his head with a debt he couldn’t hope to pay.” Tony’s voice was quiet but lethal as he started connecting the dots.
Matt crossed his arms. “No one held a gun to your uncle’s head at those tables. He lost the money all on his own.”
“He shouldn’t have been able to gamble so much,” Luca said, slamming his fist on the top of the desk. “If he’d been cut off before?—”
Matt interrupted the man mid-rant. “He would have gone to another casino and racked up more debt with someone else. I ensured that didn’t happen. Because this way, it all comes to me.”
Tony’s fists clenched, fury carved in every groove on his face, and Matt braced himself for the punch.
“He had a gambling problem,” Liza said softly. “We didn’t know about it until that marker showed up today.”
Apparently, her uncle Renzo had taken his secret to the grave, though Matt didn’t believe he could have hidden it from everyone. “Surely his wife knew.”
Matt had felt Liza’s eyes on him throughout the conversation, but he hadn’t glanced her direction once. He couldn’t. Not if he hoped to do what needed to be done. He ignored her comment, his attention locked on Tony and Luca.
“Aunt Berta knew,” Liza admitted.
Tony huffed out a disgusted laugh, shaking his head. “You really know how to play the long game, don’t you, Russo? Obviously, the original debt is a drop in the bucket to you. It’s why you waited. You don’t need that fucking money, so you waited until you could do the most damage.”
“My patience is endless,” Matt replied, the cold, cutting words coming easily…too easily. This was the role he was raised to play.
“All this just because you lost a stupid election in high school?” Tony asked. “Are you really that petty? Is your ego that fucking fragile?”
Matt had been twenty-two when he’d bought the marker, a cocky, selfish son of a bitch with too much money and even more pride. Hell yeah, his ego had been fragile.
He began to wonder if the reason he’d tolerated Patricia as long as he had was because he understood her. Children raised with silver spoons, never wanting for a single thing, saw the world much differently than most.
“What’s the end game?” Luca asked, calmer after his outburst. “Why send the marker now?”
Matt could come clean here, tell them he hadn’t sent the marker, but he doubted Tony and Luca would believe him…though he knew Liza would.
“Your aunt Berta owes me a great deal of money,” Matt forced himself to say.
“It was me,” Liza whispered with so much anguish, Matt turned to her before he could stop himself. Her pain always called to him, always made him seek to end it, which was ridiculous because in this instance, he was the one hurting her.
Jesus. The look in her eyes. He’d put that there. He’d done that.
“What was you?” he forced himself to ask, uncertain if he wanted to hear her answer.
“I told you Aunt Berta owned half of Moretti Brothers. I told you how well the company was doing.”
She had. And at the time, Matt had lain there next to her, wondering what it would be like to be a part of such a huge, loving family. The pride and love in her voice as she talked about how amazing her aunt and cousins were had glowed so brightly, he’d longed to have someone shine that kind of light on him…just once.
Now she was interpreting that conversation differently, viewing him as the panther lying in wait.
He’d told her he was a user, that he took what he needed from people then discarded them, but he refused to let her assume the blame for any of this. She didn’t do a damn thing wrong. “I didn’t need to be told that, Liza. A simple Google search would have revealed the same.”
Matt started to turn back to Tony and Luca, but Liza stepped next to him, took his hand in hers. Her hand was ice cold, her expression steeped in grief and fear. He’d always hated seeing resignation in her eyes, but this…this was a thousand times worse.
“Did your dad do this?” she asked.
Matt shook his head in disbelief. Even after everything she just heard him say, she was still looking for another explanation. One that would cast him in a better light. He pointed to the marker, tapped his finger on his name. “I bought the marker with my own money. My dad had nothing to do with this, nor did Russo Enterprises. I found a useful Moretti, one whose weakness offered me a way to take your family down. I exploited it.”
