Vin gestures at the product with a bored tilt of his chin. “Look all you want.”
The buyer leans in, peers, and nods like he has any idea what he’s looking at. “We’re good,” he announces, straightening.
“Fantastic,” I wave at the cash.
“Count it. Load your car. Then leave,” Matteo adds.
His men move fast after that. The money gets counted, and the product gets carried out.
When the last bag disappears into the SUV, the buyer pauses at the door. He glances at Matteo again, then at me. “Pleasure doing business.” He leaves in a hurry.
Matteo stays where he is, watching the car drive away before turning to me. He steps closer to where I’m sitting. “You’re off.”
My jaw tightens. “I’m fine.”
“Your face is doing that thing.” He taps his jaw. “The one where it looks like you’re deciding whether to kill someone, or well, I don’t know what else. You just look like you want to kill someone.”
“I’m not making a face.”
Matteo’s mouth lifts, amused. “Yeah, you are. You’re practically my brother. Trust me, I know you’re making a face.”
I reach for the ledger and flip it open. Matteo steps up beside me and closes it again. Matteo holds my gaze without flinching. He’s the only person on earth allowed to do this without getting killed.
“You can talk to me,” he says, quieter now.
I stare at him for a second. His concern is clear as day on his face. He’s right, he’s a brother to me, but I still can’t tell him what’s wrong.
My chest tightens.
“You want me to talk?” I stand and step around him. “Or you want me to entertain you with feelings?”
Matteo follows easily, matching my pace. “I want you to stop walking around like this.”
“I’m busy,” I reply, gesturing at the warehouse. “Your dad wouldn’t be happy if I didn’t work.”
He leans closer, lowering his voice. “This isn’t about work or my father.”
That’s where he’s wrong. This has everything to do with his father.
I can’t lose the only family I have, and if they find out what I’ve done, I will.
I laugh once, sharply.
Matteo’s eyes narrow. “You’re not sleeping.”
“Sleep is overrated,” I counter.
“You’re not eating.”
“Not true. I eat all the time.” I shake my head. “Did you come here to mother me?”
“Someone has to.”
I snort despite myself. It lasts half a second. Matteo catches it like a win.
“There it is.” He smiles, satisfied. “Still human. Barely.” I hate that he reads me so well.
I walk toward the office. Once inside, I head over to where a bottle of whiskey sits on a shelf. I grab it, twisting the cap with one hand.
