“Oh, so before, you were too busy dying to let me know I’m barely dressed?” She looks at me incredulously.
“It’s pretty much the only thing that kept my heart going. Plus, running through all the ways I plan on teaching whoever touched you a very valuable lesson has been added incentive to survive.”
“And what lesson is that?” Her lips push together, suspicious irritation twisting her barely there scent.
“No touching what’s mine.”
“And you are?”
“Matteo De Luca.”
She pales, and before she can make herself sick with worry about inconsequential things, like how she’s already inside the home of a De Luca, I open the doors and pull her out of the elevator.
6
Layne
Of course, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Beta is a De Luca. Out of all the people in the world I could have helped, it had to be him because, clearly, I don’t have enough gangsters in my past.
The big difference between Rocco and Matteo, aside from their designation, is that Matteo is no wannabe gangster. He is the real deal.
After Jana’s warning, I spent time familiarizing myself with who’s who in this zoo. Being ignorant is not only a choice, it’s a dangerous one. It only took me a handful of hours of reading news articles to determine the main players. The Albanians and the Irish deserve more of my time, but as Jana said, this area and a lot of the surrounding cities fall under the rule of the Italians—otherwise known as Cosa Nostra.
The Italian Cosa Nostra is embedded in global history as much as their counterparts—the Irish Mob, the Russian Bratva, or the Japanese Yakuza. More often than not, one Family rules absolute back in the motherland, but Kings and Queens don’t getinvolved in the day to day. They have appointed representatives, who are as dangerous and driven as they are. Here, the Gambrillos rule on behalf of the Cosa Nostra. The Gambrillos include another family, De Luca. They might have different names, but they share their Mafia heritage and syndicate pedigree with those in Sicily.
Like Jana warned, the Italians own this town, which is why I haven’t stepped a foot out of the zone marked safe. At least, until now. Not once in the past few weeks did I even look outside of the neutral zone, and now I was standing in the house of one of the key players in the criminal world, wearing his jacket after saving his ass.
I know exactly what’s going to happen next; it’s like a Hollywood script. He even alluded to it already.
Before I can open my mouth to plead my case about letting me go, he squeezes my hand, not even keeping up the facade of limping anymore, dragging me deeper into the lion’s den.
Because that’s what I walked into.
The home ripples with energy, and it’s hard not to get caught up in the lethal seduction and the blatant displays of power and strength. They don’t hide their wealth, either. They unashamedly rub it in the face of every person who walks through their home, with expensive artwork and prize collectables hung or displayed like trophies everywhere.
Matteo squeezes my hand again before guiding me past a Banksy original, hanging opposite a tableful of relics that look like they’ve come straight out of a museum and straight into a sunken living room with the biggest black leather sectional I’ve ever seen. I honestly want to start rolling around on it, like a kitten in heat, covering myself in their scent. It literally calls to me like a siren’s song.
“Matteo, you’re back…” A voice pulls my attention away from all the things I want to do, to the shadows past a doorway.
I forget to swallow, hell, I barely blink or move a muscle when the shadows fall away from the Alpha who spoke.
He is obnoxiously good looking, and I’m happy with him believing he is at the top of any goddamn pyramid, because by god, I believe him. If lethal is your thing, that is.
His hair is black like night and glossy, it looks a lot like polished ebony. His jawline is sharp enough to cut glass, and his cheekbones are to die for, but all the romantic descriptions stop when I look into his eyes. If eyes could stop traffic, his would be the ones to accomplish it. A vibrant blue—nearly electric—that holds hypnotic, god-like properties. As I look into their depths, I have no hesitation saying he has little to no fear too.
He stares at me as much as I do him. I’m pretty amazed I got it so right with the apex predator thing, because this Alpha doesn’t think he is the top—he is the top. The way he has all my senses and reactions starting to blitz out should have me running for the hills. But I know, as clearly as I know my own name, that if I run, he won’t stop chasing me.
I’ve never felt as much like actual prey as I do at this moment. Instead of laying off and giving me a break from his intensity, from the captivation of his gaze, he adds even more fuel to the fire when he stalks closer. Slowly.
“You never mentioned you were bringing a guest with you. Such a fucking stunning one too.”
Matteo chuckles softly. “Not just a guest.”
“How so?” the Alpha growls without breaking the way he’s trapped me with his eyes.
“She saved my life.”
The scoff that bubbles out of my mouth snaps the strange but sizzling hold the new guy has over me. And as soon as it breaks, I manage to take a step away from him and Matteo. The distance helps clear my head, and one step turns into two, but before I can take another, I walk smack-dab into something.
