I’m still wary of him, but I’m slowly accepting this new life.
And to be fair…he has been nothing but kind these last few weeks.
“Have you had the chance to meet your new neighbor?”
The question is sorandom and out of the blue that it makes me blink. “His name is Matteo Davacalli.”
I glance at him, my stomach flipping with unease. “Matteo? Yeah, I saw him the other day when I came home from my run. He seems… nice.”
Niceisn’t exactly the word I would have used for him.
I sip my wine, trying to seem nonchalant. Giacomo has a way of seeing straight through my lies.
His smile doesn’t falter. “Yes. Matteo Davacalli—he’s anothercapoof a different syndicate. His father passed away a few months back, and he took over.” He says the name like it tastes bitter in his mouth. “He and I have a history of sorts. If I had known he was the owner of this building, I would never have bought this penthouse for you. No need to have you around such… filth.”
“You two know each other?”
“The mafia world is small, my love. We all know each other. If you’re someone of relevance, you run in similar circles.”
So heispart of this world.
I had my suspicions. The way he carries himself, the air that shifts in his wake. He is as beautiful as he is dangerous.
Giacomo leans back, swirling his wine. “His father and mine… they never got along. His old man was a tyrant—ruthless, hard, unforgiving. He treated the rest of us like pawns. Forced loyalty, unyielding punishment. He garnered power through fear and bloodshed—much like most of us, but with him it was cruelty on a different level.”
I listen in silence.
“Matteo is no better, if you ask me. The boy is the spitting image of his father, in likeness and mentality. But if I should say so myself, he is an even bigger serpent than his old man.”
There’s something rehearsed in the way he says it.
I have no reason to doubt him—and I don’t see why he’d lie about something like this.
But after interacting with Matteo,the same man who talked me off the ledge, I don’t see him as cruel or ruthless.
Cold?Yes. Intimidating? Very much so. But never cruel.
“Davide, Matteo’s father, humiliated mine more than once,” Giacomo continues. “And Matteo, well… he learned from the best. Cutthroat. Cold. And now he’s doing to me what his father did to mine. A story as old as time—history repeating itself. But I intend to be the victor in the end.”
I say nothing. What can I possibly say? I don’t know Matteo, and Giacomo is the one to whom I owe my loyalties.
“My father came from nothing and built his legacy. He clawed and scraped his way to even have a chance for a seat at the table. And now, I will do whatever it takes to keep that seat. Even if it means not playing by the rules of the shadow brothers.” He speaks quietly as he sets his glass down on the coffee table.
“Shadow brothers?” I take another sip of wine, feeling the buzz settle slowly over me. “Who is that?”
“Matteo Davacalli, Valerio Antonelli, and Marcello Faravelli. The Three Sons of Shadow. Matteo and Marcello are heirs to legacy syndicates that have been around for far longer than we’ve been alive. Valerio comes from a long bloodline of enforcers who have always been revered and feared.”
“This gala…” he murmurs, voice deep and unhurried. “They’ve all been waiting to see what I’ve built… who I’ve become. And when you walk in with me, cara, they’ll understand exactly where I stand—and who stands with me.”
There’s nothing boastful in his tone. Just certainty. The kind men in his world kill to possess.
“They’re already whispering about my bride-to-be,” he adds. “You’ll silence every one of them the moment you step into that room.”
I let out a slow breath.
The nighthe’s talking about is no longer just a date on the calendar. It’s the moment everything changes — for him… and for me.
“You will be the diamond of the ball.”
