Page 77 of Matteo
"Piccola cosa come te ha causato tutto questo.?" Luca chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.Tiny thing like you caused this?
"Yep, she's a goddamn wildfire," I can't help but boast.
Laughter fills the room, a brief respite in our dark world. The rest of the night goes by in a blur of business talk, the necessary evil of our existence.
"Anything else, or can we fuck off now?" I'm itching to be alone with Eleanor to wash away the blood and bullshit of tonight.
"Just one more thing," Luca interjects, and we all turn to him. "I want to start prepping my boy to take over."
"Really?" My curiosity was piqued despite myself.
"Gabriel," he says, his eyes glinting with something that might be pride. Or a warning. "He'll stir some shit up, no doubt." Laughter again, but it's edged with an unspoken understanding.
"God help us all," I mutter, half-joking, half-serious.
"God ain't got nothing to do with this," I think as we wrap up the night, our kingdom of shadows shifting ever so slightly with each move we make.
Epilogue
Eleanor Wang
8 years later
The sun's scorching rays beat down on my skin, a reminder of the relentless march of time. Fuck me sideways, Niko's eighteen today. The thought alone sets my heart racing like it's on some shitty carnival ride—one I'm not strapped in for. His laughter ain't echoing around the house, replaced by this godforsaken silence. Instead, he's out there, bobbing on the waves, living it up without his dear old mum and dad.
"Here, Princess," Matteo's voice slices through the stillness as he thrusts a margarita into my hand, its cool touch a balm to the heat.
"Thank you." My gaze locks with his—a cheeky glint dance in those dark eyes as we lounge like a pair of sinners surveying our kingdom. The bay stretches out before us, glittering under the afternoon glare.
"You still mad he wouldn't allow you to attend hisparty?" Matteo's grin is all teeth, knowing full well he's poking the damn bear.
"Yes, I mean seriously, I’m fun!" I jab a finger at my chest, a playful snarl tugging at my lips. "Who wouldn't want me at their bash?"
"Yes, you are fun, Princess," he concedes, that smile never slipping. But then he drops a truth bomb that has me choking on my drink. "Parents at your eighteenth birthday party aren’t the cool thing."
"But what if there are drugs?" I can't help but push the words sour on my tongue.
"I can guarantee there is," he shoots back, casual as a motherfucker.
I swivel to skewer him with a glare that could curdle milk. "Tell me you didn't supply the boat with drugs, Matteo?" My voice is a low growl, the idea setting my blood to boil.
"I was eighteen once, too, you know," he says, trying to play it off like he's done the lad a favor. "They would have come from nowhere if I hadn't supplied them. This way, I controlled what and how much entered the boat," he finishes, proud as a pimp with a new cane.
I shake my head, the taste of betrayal bitter on my tongue. Even in the twisted confines of our world, Matteo's logic is a warped brand of insanity—his version of keeping control. But then again, control is what Matteo Ricci breathes, eats, and shits. It's his gospel, his commandments, his fucking creed. And as much as I hate to admit it, in this messed-up reality of ours, maybe his fucked-up way is the right way.
I grind my teeth, and the taste of anger is sharp on my tongue. "I don't like my son doing drugs, Matteo." My eyes lock onto his, fierce and unyielding.
"Princess, you might not believe this, but he doesn't." He's calm, constantly fucking calm, like a snake coiled tight, ready to strike. "I think being on this side of the fence gave him a different view of them," he continues, and I can hear the truth ringing in his voice despite wanting to reject it outright. "Plus, Angel is on the boat with him. He will reel it all back in if anything gets out of hand."
"Still can't believe he allowed Angel to go and not me!" The words come out more petulant than I intend, a pout forming against my will.
"That boat is a floating nerd’s dream right now," Matteo chuckles, his laugh like gravel rolling down a mountainside. "I mean, seriously, the kid’s friends are all in his tech class at Uni."
He's not wrong. Niko got into Uni two years early. Thanks to his tech studies and homeschooling, he is the little genius he is. There isn't much he can't hack code or rewire. His mates, a ragtag bunch of nerds, are testament to that. And yet, here I am, sidelined, my mind chasing circles of worry and motherly concern.
"I have something that will take your mind off it if you want…" The corner of Matteo's mouth quirks up, a smirk that spells trouble and has me on high alert.
"What's that, old man?" I shoot back, trying to keep the edge from my voice.
