I stare at him in the picture for longer than I should. A part of me feels a thrill at the prospect of figuring him out. It would be no easy feat to unmake a man like him.
Which makes me feel a little sick. First Valentina gets lulled into the madness of the mafia, and now I’m entertaining asinine thoughts about one of them?
They’re criminals, murderers. Every single one of them. And my job is to put them all away. Behind bars.
And yet there’s something about the look on Matteo’s face that calls to me.
I remember catching a glimpse of him at the wedding. A short one, before it all went to hell.
He had stood by his brother’s side, his lips in a firm line, his eyes taking in everything all at once. The suit he wore was definitely custom made for him. Not a seam out of place. It had clung to him like he belonged inside of it. He cut an impressive figure.
I’m still not sure why he stood out to me so much. All I know is that I’d stared at him for longer than I should have, wishing he was anyone else.
My thighs clench together almost reflexively. A dull ache beneath my breasts and thoughts of what it would feel to stare down a man like Matteo Vitale and I realize I’ve officially lost it.
I’m so horny.
The last time I had sex was way too long ago. Which is probably why I’m entertaining such stupid thoughts about aman who might as well be the devil himself. I need a distraction or at the very least a drink.
I shut the Vitale file before getting dressed and grabbing a jacket. Exiting the penthouse, I head down to the third floor of the hotel. There’s a bar there, and while I may avoid the restaurant and the more luxurious parts of the hotel, rhe bar is more understated.
The patrons there could be good looking enough to make this night and these horrendous past few weeks marginally better.
CHAPTER 2
Matteo
The popular statue of Lady Justice holds a sword and scales to display fairness, justice, and morality. I place a gun on those scales; that’s the extent of my morality. It’s what I was born for. It’s who I am. I don’t know how to be anything else.
I have no wish to be.
The ticking of the watch on my hand grows louder as I sit as still as possible, waiting for the man in front of me to make a decision. The conference room smells faintly of polished wood and expensive cologne.
Numbers don’t lie. Contracts don’t shift beneath your feet. The terms are clear and expectations clearer. There’s no ambiguity in a well-structured deal.
Unlike people. They’re usually much harder to predict.
“Mr. Vitale, I have to say, the projections are… ambitious.”
I close the file in front of me and meet his gaze, unimpressed.
“Ambitious?” I question evenly. “I offered you terms and I can assure you I have every intention of meeting each one of them.”
Across the table, Daniel Mercer, a graying man in his mid-fifties, shifts slightly in his seat. He’s the kind of man who hasbuilt his reputation on cautious decisions. My type of person to do business with.
I slide the document in my hand toward him.
“The logistics are already in place. Distribution is secured. All you’re doing is stepping into a structure that’s already functioning.”
“That’s exactly what concerns me,” he replies. “You’re asking for a significant investment without full visibility.”
Inwardly, my eyes roll. He thinks transparency equals control, but it doesn’t. It just means they’re being shown what they’re meant to see. What I allow to be seen.
“You’ve had access to everything relevant,” I say.
“Relevant to you, perhaps.”
I lean back slightly in my chair, fingers steepling as I study him.
