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“Prepare for landing.” The pilot cued over the intercom. Matt strapped his seatbelt on, sitting straight and pretending we weren’t having this conversation in the first place.
I let him be, knowing he’d be more comfortable regaining his control over his demeanor, taking this time to settle whatever demons lurked around in his mind.
By the time we were stepping out of the car in front of the Amato Manor, he was already as cool as fucking ice.
Matt had reclaimed control, burying any kind of uneasiness he had previously displayed to me in the jet. His head was held high, and his strong, dominant nature was emanating from his body in powerful waves.
Trevor and Max, my brother’s shadows, stood outside while we waited for Don Amato in his study.
As I sat there, I couldn’t help but think about the only thing I had bothering me – the talk I had pending with Don Amato. There was no doubt it would be a hard one.
He was still convinced that I had murdered Amelia, his only daughter. Did he know about Jamie? Did he know he had another daughter besides Amelia?
My plan was to tell him first, confirm that he didn’t abandon her and her mother. Because if that were the case, this truth would be dying with me. There was absolutely no way I was going to make the mistake of making Jamie feel she was being rejected again. If her biological father was a son of a bitch, I had to protect her from him, too.
“Matt.” Don Amato called from the door as he entered the room, shaking my brother’s hand vigorously. “It’s good to see you again. Take a seat.” He motioned towards the chairs in front of his desk before hastily shaking my hand, not hiding his discomfort in his false friendliness towards me.
“It’s good to see you, too, Don Amato. Thank you for having us. I’m here to speak to your niece as we agreed.”
“Of course, she’ll be down shortly.” He said as he poured us a couple of drinks before handing them to us.
I saw the fake smile Matt directed at him as soon as he took the tumbler from Don Amato’s hand. He wasn’t drinking a single drop of it before Enzo did. He didn’t trust him just yet.
“That one, Matt? She has a mind of her own.” He continued as he took his seat, his desk posing as a barrier between us, but he made sure to keep his hands visible the whole time. “She’s as precious as she is fierce. I’ve never seen a woman so power-hungry as her. I have three nephews, and still, given the chance, I’d choose her to take over my reign in a heartbeat.” His voice was filled with pride and sincerity.
“Is that so?” Matt was intrigued. He followed the lead and took a gulp from his tumbler after watching Don Amato do the same.
“Damn right. But the Mafia is a men’s only club. The misogyny runs deep. It’s ingrained in its roots. Even the most capable of women would never stand the slightest chance of putting her pretty shoe in the door.”
As soon as he finished his sentence, as if right on queue, the mahogany double doors to his office burst open unceremoniously. Francesca walked in, her chin held high, her shoulders squared with confidence. Both Matt and I stood, turning back to see her strutting in, the thick heels of her boots roaring with every self-assured step she took toward us.
She didn’t spare us a single glance, walking straight to where Don Amato sat, placing a kiss on his forehead before acknowledging us.
“Gentlemen.” Nothing above a curt nod and a dry greeting. If I didn’t know any better, I’d call her a stuck-up spoiled brat, but her attitude was meant to show us we weren’t welcome in her eyes. “You called me, Uncle?”
“Yes, my dear. You’ve met Liam and Matteo Battaglia. They came to speak with you.”
Her gaze was set back on us, an annoyed eyebrow raised in protest, waiting for one of us to cut to the chase.
Matt placed his tumbler on the desk, standing to greet Francesca properly, taking her hand in his and placing a kiss on her skin.
“Miss Amato, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“Mr. Battaglia,” She greeted him back, the smile on her face was put there for manners and nothing else. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
“We came to talk to you about the upcoming wedding.”
“Oh, right. That.” She pulled her hand from Matt’s and crossed her arms in front of her body defensively.
“Yes, that. The plan has suffered some adjustments. You won’t be marrying Liam anymore.”
“That’s great news! So it’s over. I’m free?” Her face had completely changed. Her eyes shone brightly with excitement, relief was clear in the honest smile that lit up her features.
“Not quite. I came here to give you this ring as a symbol of your engagement to me.” Matt had pulled out the little black box, holding it out for her to take.
Francesca’s face grew pale, her smile had vanished completely while her chest was caught in an inhale that didn’t want to let the air back out. She was stuck looking from the box to Matt’s face, frozen in her spot. Her jaw clenched tightly, and she quickly spun to meet Enzo’s eyes, looking for confirmation.
“You can’t be serious.”
