I just had to bring her home now.
So after getting Alessandro, I called Frank to take me back out into the city.
Fuck sleep.
My girl needed me.
33
MATTEO
“Is the plan acceptable?” Santino asked, eyeing me in my office.
I nodded. “It is. I will speak to Alessandro and Bianca.”
“Do you believe it will cause a rift between you and your son?” Santino looked concerned as he stared at me.
“I… no. He loves another. It would free him to pursue her.”
“Rosalie,” he said.
I cast him a quick look. “Yes. Rosalie.”
“No worries. Evan told me all about it. He wants it to work out for the three of them and plans on bringing Alessandro into his relationship with Rosalie once they are reunited.”
I breathed out, relaxing. “Good. Good. I am happy for that. Do you approve?”
“I do.” Santino nodded. “Rosalie is the sweetest girl, and Evan loves her. He would do anything for her, including die, so his bringing in someone they both care for is not a surprise. I would never stop my son from his happiness. I am not our father.”
I swallowed. “I am glad.”
“Ask,” Santino said knowingly.
I chuckled at his intuition. “Was it you who burned down De Luca’s warehouse last night?”
Santino smirked. “And nailed a Russian to his front door? It may have been me.”
“Why terrorize them if your son is alive?”
Santino shrugged. “I never wanted my son to be wrapped up with the De Luca family, but I knew in my heart that they meant something to one another. I wanted my boy to carve his own path in life without my interference. Yes, I knew what Lorenzo De Luca was. I did not think he would join his father, since he seemed like such a carefree young man who wanted more out of life than a duplicate of his father’s. So imagine my surprise when he turned into the ruthless little shit he is.” Santino’s mouth turned down into a sour expression. “So yes, I will continue to fuck with him. Evan has loved Rosalie since they were very small, so for Enzo to ask for her hand when he knew Evan dreamed of making her his wife… it did not sit well with me.”
I scrubbed my hand down my face. “I understand the pettiness.”
Santino laughed. “Pettiness? Is that what we’re calling it?”
“It is what it is, brother.”
He smirked. “Perhaps it is.”
We were quiet for several long minutes before I asked the question that had been really bothering me.
“Will you build my coffin?”
He slowly looked over at me from where he sat. “I have already built it, little brother.”
I nodded, my throat tight.
“And our father’s?”
