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She’s unlike a lot of the girls I’ve come across in my life. Although, I’m beginning to wonder if I was always the problem. Never giving anyone a chance since I knew I would be moving soon. I had always adjusted to not making friends because of that reason. Knowing I won’t leave New York City anytime soon is making me realize I might need to change my outlook on relationships.
Izzy’s bubbly personality is more similar to Enzo’s than Matteo’s. He seems to be the odd ball out, personality wise, when it comes to the siblings. Although he comes off as cold and calculated at first impression, I'm beginning to realize there are many layers to Matteo.
Since he and Enzo left for that meeting this morning, Rocco was left to babysit me. I also met Izzy’s guard, Eddie.
Rocco let me know a few minutes ago that Matteo was on his way back to pick me up to go shopping. It’s weird having someone be a messenger for me. If he would give me back my phone, I’d be able to communicate like a normal person. I wonder why he hasn’t yet. Does he not trust me?
I finish getting ready in my last pair of clean black leggings and a sweatshirt before slipping on my black combat boots. Maybe it’s a good thing Matteo’s bringing me to pick up a few things. I still plan on paying him back somehow but need to figure out how to make money here first.
A knock draws my attention to the door. Opening it, I find Matteo on the other side dressed in the same thing he left in, a perfectly fitted black Armani suit with a black shirt unbuttoned at the top, teasing me with the dark ink on his chest.
“You wear a lot of suits,” I say.
He smiles while glancing down at his ensemble, like he forgot what he was wearing before taking in my outfit. “You wear a lot of tights and sweatshirts.”
Touché.
“Well, you’re already wrong. These”—I pull on the fabric of my leggings—“areleggings. Not tights. I’m surprised, Matteo. You seem like the kind of guy that would know his way around a woman’s wardrobe.”
Stepping into me, he wraps his hulking arms around my waist. “Apparently not therightwoman.” It probably shouldn’t make my heart skip a beat, but it does. It actually skips several as he plants a peck on my lips, so light it makes me crave so much more.
“C’mon. Let’s get you some more of thoseleggingsyou seem to love so much.” I laugh as he pulls me out of my room.
Matteo has Rocco and another guard I just met, Tito, drive us to Fifth Avenue.How many guys does he have working for him?
Rocco parks the G-Wagon on a side street, and we all get out. “Keep an acceptable distance back. Make sure you both keep your eyes oneverything,” Matteo orders the two solidly built men. Matteo is jacked, but in a proportional way. His body is that of a Greek god, whereas Rocco and Tito have the bodies of bodybuilders on steroids. Add their height to it and they come off as pretty damn intimidating. They’re not quite as tall as Matteo, but they still tower over my five-foot-seven self.
Wrapping his hand around mine, Matteo leads us down the sidewalk, past multiple high-end stores like Louis Vuitton and Chanel. Glancing over my shoulder, I notice Rocco and Tito doing exactly what Matteo ordered. They’re following us about twenty-five feet back and have their sights on. . . everything. They scan the road, the sidewalks, even inside the windows of passing stores.
Furrowing my brow, I turn back to Matteo, who also looks like he’s scanning the area. “Is there something I should be aware of?”
Without looking at me, he asks, “What do you mean?”
So this is how it’s going to be. “Don’t play dumb, Matteo. I heard you back there. Why do you need Rocco and Tito to keep an eye oneverything? And why do you look like you’re preparing for an ambush at any second?”
His gaze moves to me, and I divert mine to the sidewalk, taking note of my surroundings so I don’t walk into something.
“Elena and Giuliana now know that you and I are married, which means Giuseppe Silvestri knows we’re married.” He stops us and turns me toward him. “Giuseppe Silvestri doesn’t trust my family, so he most likely will not be happy about that information.”
I nod. “Because of the port. But you haven’t even taken over Angelo’s yet. Maybe this Giuseppe guy won’t even care.”
He breathes out a small laugh as he shakes his head. “That’s not how things work. If anything, Giuseppe is probably more skeptical now since I haven’t done anything about the port yet.”
“And why do you have it out for him again?” I sayagain,as if he’s told me before, but he hasn’t. All I know is there’s some tension between Matteo and Giuseppe Silvestri, but I don’t understand why.
He squares his shoulders, straightening his spine as his mouth turns down into a frown. “That’s a story for another time. But it’s part of the reason I’d prefer you not to work anymore and why I always have guards on you and my sister.” He runs a hand through the stubble on his face.
“The world we live in is dangerous, Luxtyn.” He continues with a low voice as he conveys the gravity of what he’s saying. “Putting a ring on your finger means I’ve selfishly put a mark on your back. I can protect you, and Iwillprotect you, but you have to be willing to let me.” He pauses, waiting to see if I’ll have a response, but I don’t.
“I respect that you want to work, but I have more than enough money for the both of us. Your safety is my concern, and with you having the DiMaggio last name now, I have to make sure you’re taken care of. That means working is out of the question. If you want to find things to do, I can help, but please. . .” He releases a drawn-out breath. “Can you let me provide for you and to keep you safe?”
Independence has always been important to me, but the sincerity behind Matteo’s words makes me not want to argue. I might not know much about the Mafia world, but from what I’ve learned, I know it’s dangerous. Maybe I should just stop arguing for once.
I give him a small nod, and he lets out a deep breath, as if he’d been holding it while waiting for my response. The sound of a doorswooshingopen behind me pulls his attention over my head.
“Mr. DiMaggio, please come in,” the voice of a woman sounds from behind me. Turning around, I take in the blonde who’s smiling a little too eagerly at my husband.
“You’re not Liana,” Matteo grumbles, and if I knew no better, I’d say he’s not happy to see this woman who seems to be eye-fucking him directly in front of me.
