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“Sophi-“ Matteo started to say, but I cut him off, not interested in any excuses he wanted to give.
“I asked you a question, so fucking answer me.”
Seeing all these photos made me feel like a fool. Didn’t these mean I had been right to be wary of him?
I couldn’t believe I had decided to listen to Keisha when she said there might have been a reason. Was there also a reason for why he had killed all these people?
“I can explain.” Matteo took a step towards me. I could see the anxiety on his face and how desperate he looked.
“Start explaining,” I demanded, my voice shaky no matter how strong I tried to will it to be.
I thought about all the times we had spent together. Was all of that a lie? When he told me about his father? Had that also been a lie? Fuck! He even lied about his father?
"Was everything a lie?" The words tumbled from my lips, filled with disbelief and anger. "Was your father truly killed, or did you make it up to buy sympathy from me?"
The moment those words escaped, I could sense the tension in the room. Matteo's reaction was instantaneous.
"Sophia!" His voice boomed, and I jolted in surprise at the sharpness of his tone.
I could see the anger in his eyes, but he was making a visible effort to control it. His voice was measured as he spoke, "I understand you're angry, Sophia, but you shouldn't speak of my father like that. I didn't lie about his murder."
Feeling mixed emotions – anger, confusion, and a gnawing sense of betrayal – I watched as Matteo closed his eyes briefly and inhaled deeply.
It seemed like he was trying to collect himself. After a moment, he opened his eyes and said, "Let's both sit down. It'll be better this way."
I hesitated, my pride warring with my need for answers, but eventually, I relented. I sat on the couch, my gaze locked on Matteo as he settled onto the adjacent sofa.
"First things first," he began, his voice steady. "I need you to understand something fundamental about me, Sophia. I'm part of the mafia."
I blinked, the revelation hitting me like a freight train. What the fuck? My mind raced to process this information. Matteo, a mafia member? It seemed almost surreal.
He continued, "My father was the Don before he was murdered. After his death, I was supposed to take over, but my uncle, Francisco, usurped his position. We've been at odds ever since."
Matteo's words hung heavy in the air.
He explained, "Some of those pictures are real but taken out of context. Yes, I've killed people in the past. But it's not what it looks like. The bodies you see in those photos, among them were my men. I had to eliminate the ones who wanted to follow my uncle."
My eyes widened as I tried to comprehend the gravity of his words. The man I had fallen for was involved in a world of crime and violence that I couldn't fathom.
Matteo leaned forward, his eyes searching mine for understanding. "My father didn't want our family to follow the traditional path of dealing drugs and weapons. Instead, we turned to Vitalen, a miracle drug that's improved lives. My uncle doesn't agree with that. He wants to return to the old ways of dealing drugs and human trafficking. I've been trying to put an end to it."
As he spoke, I could see the conflict in his eyes.
My mind raced as I tried to process everything Matteo had revealed. The world I thought I knew had shifted on its axis, and I felt like I was stumbling through a dark tunnel, searching for clarity.
Finally, I mustered the courage to ask the question burning in my mind since he started explaining. "Who... who killed your father?"
Matteo's gaze never wavered, and his voice was steady, filled with a bitter resignation. "Francisco."
The shock hit me like a physical blow, and I couldn't contain my disbelief. "What?!" I exclaimed, my voice rising. "How... how could he kill his brother?"
Matteo's response was laced with sardonic bitterness as he chuckled darkly. "That's the same question I asked myself when I found out."
“How…did you find out?” I carefully asked.
Matteo's eyes darkened as he recounted the story. "I have a close friend in the police force, Leo. He stumbled upon some classified documents left unattended on an officer's table. Naturally, I had him brought in for questioning, and I had the chance to interrogate him."
Sophia winced at the word 'interrogate.' "What kind of questioning are we talking about here?"
