“When is he coming back?”
He shrugs. “I can’t say for sure, miss.”
“Okay, thank you. I understand. I’ll stay put and I won’t cause any trouble.”
My lips pull up in a smile at the cautious disbelief in Roscoe’s eyes. But he shouldn’t worry. I really will stay put. I need to come up with a plan and assess the situation first before making any moves.
If Matteo thinks he’s going to turn me into some sort of princess locked up in a tower, he’s got another think coming.
Right now, though, I’ll focus on pulling myself together.
CHAPTER 17
Matteo
I’m in the mood to punch something.
But that will mean acting even more out of my character than I have in the past couple of weeks. I’m pretty sure my brothers think I’m possessed.
We’re currently in Salvatore’s study, waiting for the Don to show up.
Raffaele has been staring at me like I’m his new favorite toy while Elio keeps sneaking amused glances in my direction. When Salvatore walks in, he completes the trifecta with the rage in his expression.
“You’re not walking out of here until you explain yourself,fratello,” he states, sinking into his chair behind the desk.
I arch an eyebrow. “What are you going to do, break my legs?”
“That’s tempting,” Raffaele drawls.
“We just want to know what’s going on with Lindsay Beaumont,” Elio starts. “You’ve been acting weird, Matt. First, you rush out on a meeting to find her when she goes missing. And then you go to the hospital to see her when her father was shot. I thought she was the enemy. I’ve never known you to lie in bed with women who want to take our family down.”
My jaw tightens. “I’m not lying in bed with her.”
We had sex once and since then have traded kisses that made the world stop. In no way does that count as lying in bed together.
“Really?” Salvatore’s eyebrows rise. “Where is she now?”
There’s a beat before I reply. “My house.”
Elio lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head like he can’t believe it. “You like her, don’t you?” he says. “All these women throwing themselves at you, and you don’t even spare them a glance. You spend years talking about how love makes men weak, how feelings get you killed… then you go and fall for the enemy.”
His grin widens, amused now. “And not just any enemy. A gangster prosecutor. Do you know she told Sal she’d shoot one of our men herself and write it off as suicide?”
I stay silent, which only makes him laugh harder.
“Actually,” he says, leaning back in his chair, “now that I think about it, she’s exactly your type. Violent. Mouthy. Crazy enough to pull the trigger without blinking.” He smirks. “Still… Lindsay Beaumont? Damn. Of all the women in this city, you had to fall for the one most likely to put a bullet in you.”
“You know you’re the soft one out of all of us, right?” Elio adds casually.
“Actually,” Raffaele cuts in dryly, lifting his drink, “you’re the soft one, Elio.”
Elio scoffs. “Fuck you, Raf.”
Raffaele shrugs. “Just saying.”
“I didn’t fall for her,” I grit out.
“But you’ve slept with her,” Raffaele prods.
