25
MATTEO
I’ve never openedup to anyone the way I did with Sierra last night.
Dario knows I killed my stepdad. Lorenzo knows too. But neither of them has the details. All Lorenzo needed to hear was that I did it in defense of my mother, and that was enough for him to help me make the problem disappear.
Sierra knows everything now. Things I’ve never said out loud to anyone.
This morning, she made me breakfast in that little robe, smiled at me the same way she always does. Warm. Easy. Like nothing changed.
But I keep waiting for it to change.
I kissed her before I left. Told her I’d be home this afternoon. She was heading for the shower, and I walked out the door before I could do something stupid like ask if she still wanted me here.
Alessio texted first thing this morning. No details, just told me to get to his strip club. Now I’m on my bike, weaving through morning traffic, and the vulnerability of last night still clings to me. Like an open wound I can’t stop poking at.
She didn’t run last night. She held me. Called me a protector instead of a monster.
But that was in the dark, with emotion running high. What happens when she’s had time to sit with it? When the reality of what I am settles into her bones?
She’ll look at me differently. She has to.
When I pull into the parking lot, I understand why Alessio called.
Someone vandalized the front of the building overnight. Red spray paint covers the brick exterior. Crude drawings of dicks. Misspelled curse words. A few broken windows for good measure.
I kill the engine and walk over to where Alessio stands, snapping pictures with his phone.
“You decide to redecorate?”
He glances up, one eyebrow raised. “Was that a joke?”
“I can be funny.”
“Rarely.” He tucks the phone into his pocket and gestures at the mess. “What do you think?”
I scan the damage. Sloppy. Childish. Not the Bratva’s style.
“Kids.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.” Alessio crosses his arms. “Mostly harmless, but annoying as hell. We can’t just let it slide, though. Word gets around that anyone can tag our property without consequences, we’ll have a bigger problem.”
“You want me to handle it.”
“Scare them a little. Make sure they understand this was a one-time mistake.”
I nod. This isn’t exactly high-priority work, but I’ll take it. Gives me something to focus on besides waiting for Sierra’s kindness to curdle into something else. “Consider it done.”
He nods and pulls his phone back out to call a cleaning crew. I head down the street, already knowing where to start.
Cash works this block. If anyone saw something, it’s him.
I find him outside a run-down convenience store, leaning against the cracked siding with a joint between his broken fingers. Both thumbs are still in casts from our last conversation.
He goes white when he sees me.
“I haven’t taken a dime.” The words tumble out before I’m within ten feet of him. “I swear, man. I haven’t. I learned my lesson. I’m clean.”
