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Standing, I gesture to the empty chair next to Enzo. “Of course. Please, take a seat.”
We both take our seats while Fausto remains standing by the door next to Rocco.
“No Mauricio today?” I bring my attention back to Mancini who pauses for a moment before responding.
“Not today,” he answers tightly, as if trying to dissuade me from asking further questions. It’ll work for now, but I make a mental note of it. “Are you ready to go over the contract?” he asks as he hands me the document from his briefcase.
“I am,” I say, taking the contract from him. “I must say, this is the first time I’ve ever received a hand-delivered document.”
There are only three reasons someone would hand deliver a contract: one, they have zero access to technology, two, they’rehiding that document from someone with access to said technology, or three, they trust no one.
Mancini laughs, responding without a beat of hesitation as he takes out a copy for himself. “Call me old school.”
I let out a light chuckle. “You might be old, Mancini, but you’re notthatold.” I furrow my brows. “So, tell me. What’sreallygoing on here?”
I feel my brother’s eyes boring into me.
Mancini’s gaze remains on mine as he sits back in his seat, crossing one leg over the other. “I came here to sign a contract, Matteo, not to participate in an inquisition.”
“And I’m here to make sure I know exactly what I’m marrying into.” My tone is stern, rigid.
After a few tense moments of what feels like a showdown between us, he finally relents with a smile on his face. “Of course, Matteo. Please. . .” He holds out his hand for me to proceed. “Continue.”
I clench my teeth slightly, making sure it’s undetectable but enough for me to refrain from saying what I want to say to this man.
Bringing my gaze down to the document, I study it. “Is everything in the contract as we discussed?” Everything should be straightforward. There’s not much to contracts like these. You have the name of the couple to be wed and the conditions. No need for wasted words for such an easy arrangement.
“I am a man of my word, Matteo.”
I’m silent for a few more moments while I scan the contract until a name pops up that I don’t recognize. Heat floods my face as I take in the abrupt change Mancini tried to sneak in on me. “I just have one question, then.” Snapping my gaze to his, I can already tell he knows exactly what I’m referring to. “Who the hell is Luxtyn Stockwell, and why the fuck am I marrying her instead of your daughter?”
5
MATTEO
“Ahh shit,” Enzo mutters under his breath as he readjusts his position, now sitting up tall in his seat, waiting for my signal to get rid of the old man.
“Let me explain before you go on the offense,” Mancini says, holding up his hands, his bushy brows raised to his hairline.
“Please do.” I lean back in my chair and continue to hold Mancini’s gaze. If this bastard thinks he can pull one over on me, he has another thing coming. I’ll fucking kill him now and figure out another plan to take down the Silvestris later.
“Matteo, you and I are not enemies. I’m here to help you, but I need your help in return.”
I notice Enzo’s knee bouncing out of the corner of my eye, but I stay focused on Mancini, trying to figure out what the hell he’s talking about.
“There’s a girl. A girl I need you to protect.”
“Does she happen to go by the name Luxtyn Stockwell?” I mock.
The relaxed and confident Mancini that walked into my office not so long ago has disappeared and has been replaced with a much more serious, might I even say, concerned Mancini. His body tightens, the tension prominent in his demeanor. Whoever this girl is, she must be important, but what the hell does he expect me to do? I can’t marry some insignificant no-name. And why the hell would I even care to help this girl?
“Luxtyn Stockwell is the daughter of an old friend of mine.” He clears his throat and runs a hand over his goatee. “And possibly mine, as well.”
“Oh fuck,” Enzo mumbles.Right fucking there with you, brother.
With a sigh, Mancini continues. “I do not have confirmation that she is my blood. It’s just a suspicion. One I believe to be accurate.”
“So what the hell is the purpose of this?” Enzo spits out. His outburst is unprofessional, but I would also like to know the answer to his question.
