Chapter Fifty-Two

Matteo pressed the knife further into Frankie’s shoulder, eliciting a low grunt from him.

“Is this some new kind of greeting I’m supposed to know about?” Frankie teased, glancing down at the knife’s hilt with a sly smile.

That smile was anything but harmless. Frankie was a dangerous man. Anyone who caught even a glimpse of Matteo’s right-hand man—his skin almost entirely covered in tattoos and scars from countless brawls—would instinctively turn and flee. It was a reaction ingrained in people’s minds. Matteo had seen mothers shield their children’s eyes as Frankie strode past. He’d witnessed police officers suddenly become fascinated by scratches on their patrol cars just to avoid locking eyes with him. Even Genevieve, who had once shared a bed with a mafia boss, was intimidated by Frankie.

And Frankie thrived on that fear. It was his fuel. But there was one thing that unsettled him—one person who could truly scare him. That person was Matteo.

“We both know you don’t learn unless there’s pain involved,” Matteo growled, his voice low and threatening.

Frankie’s grin widened. “So, what’s the lesson today, Accardi? If you barge in without knocking, I get a knife stuck in my shoulder?”

“Keep your nose out of my personal life,” Matteo warned sharply.

Frankie’s eyes flickered with mock surprise. “Ohh, so it’s about your little chickadee? Was it that comment about condoms that set you off?”

“You know exactly what you did,” Matteo snapped, pressing harder on the blade. Frankie snarled but then pushed away, limping slightly as he made his way back to his desk. He pulled the knife free with a grunt, wincing but relieved to find no major damage. Matteo had chosen the spot carefully—no arteries, no muscles, just flesh.

Matteo sat down, interlacing his fingers, while Frankie rotated his shoulder, testing the injury. On the monitor in front of them, surveillance footage flickered between different parts of the club. Although they’d only opened an hour ago, the place was already packed. Tonight’s lineup included some big names, even a few professional wrestlers looking to try their luck at real money. Matteo hadn’t even had the chance to speak with Louis yet; after three weeks off, he was still trying to get his bearings.

Frankie jabbed the knife into the wooden desk, pulling Matteo’s attention back.

“I don’t see the problem. You needed some action, and I helped you out,” Frankie said with a shrug, then collapsed into the chair opposite his desk.

“You told her I was with another woman,” Matteo accused.

“Actually,” Frankie raised a finger, “I suggested you were in the bedroom—using body language. She just didn’t open the door. Though, I can’t blame her. Imagine seeing O’Brien’s ass,” he added with an exaggerated shiver.

Matteo’s patience snapped. *I don’t care if you communicated through charades. I don’t need your help. If you mess with her again, I swear I’ll put the knife somewhere more important.*

Frankie’s smirk vanished as he leaned forward. “You were sitting in the lobby, chain-smoking like some whipped fool. Even O’Brien noticed, man. That’s bad for business. You should be thanking me.”

“Look at you! You got laid. You’re welcome. Did you feel better? Your mood’s improved. Besides, now you know how she feels.”

“How’s that?” Matteo asked, rubbing his temples.

“She ran! A girl who didn’t care would’ve just gone back to her room. Or worse, pulled a Mallory and slept with another guy to make you jealous. She did neither. She likes you,” Frankie said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Matteo ran his hands through his hair, staring out the double-paned window overlooking the club. He spotted Louis coming up the stairs, phone in hand.

“Then again…” Frankie began, his voice lowering.

Matteo closed his eyes, bracing himself. Frankie wasn’t known for deep thinking, but when he did, it was like smoke filling the room.

“You stabbed me with a knife… And come to think of it, she wasn’t limping the next morning… Oh my God. You didn’t close the deal?!” Frankie exclaimed.

Matteo spun around, shooting Frankie a warning glare. “Watch it.”

“Come on, Accardi! What’s the deal with this girl? You need to get some release. Trust me, it’s not good for your health. You know the saying: ‘Use it or lose it,’ right?”

The office door swung open, and Louis stepped inside. “What the hell, Accardi? Why did I just get a call from my wife saying you’re screwing my sister-in-law?”

Frankie burst out laughing. “Don’t worry, Lou. The fucking is apparently in the past tense.”

“Get out, Frank,” Matteo growled. “And get that shoulder bandaged. Maurice’s gonna have enough blood to mop the floors tonight.”

Frankie saluted, shoulders shaking with laughter as he left the room. Louis shot Matteo a disapproving look.

“I had one simple request,” Louis said, approaching the desk. “I begged everyone going to the wedding to stay away from one person. And yet here I am, finding out you not only went behind my back but have been doing so for three weeks?”

Matteo sighed. “It wasn’t planned.”

“I hope not,” Louis replied, folding his arms expectantly. Matteo had to admit, Louis was fiercely protective of his new sister—more than he ever had been of Mallory.

“She came up to me at Valentina’s the night of my family’s funeral. Mallory put her up to it.”

Louis exhaled and leaned his head back for a moment before shaking it. “Of course she did. No wonder she wouldn’t leave me alone during the honeymoon.”

“How pissed is Jada?” Matteo asked, offering Louis a cigarette.

“Sleeping on the couch for a week pissed,” Louis said with a sigh.

“You’ve been back a day, and she’s already this mad? Sounds like little Louis didn’t please his lady enough times on the honeymoon.”

“She could barely keep up with me,” Louis smirked before his expression hardened into a more serious, fatherly look. “You know how she feels about this life. Her mom and stepdad did everything to keep Genevieve in the dark. They were thrilled when she moved to Boston. And now here you are—a mafia don—ruining everything they worked so hard to protect. What’s your endgame, Accardi? According to Jada, you two have already slept together. So what comes next?”

Matteo pondered the question. What *did* come next? For him, it was everything. An entire future. Her.

“I’m taking her on a date tomorrow,” he admitted quietly.

Louis raised his eyebrows in surprise. “A date? Like dinner and a movie?”

“Yeah. Like I’ve bought four different bouquets because I don’t know what flowers she likes. Like I’ve got six suits spread across my bed, unsure which one’s right. Like I’m debating whether to get a haircut or just leave it, afraid the barber will mess it up. Like I spent the whole day researching what to expect because I’ve never done this before,” Matteo rattled off, his voice tinged with nervous excitement.

Matteo had known Louis since they were kids. Though their worlds had always been divided by Matteo’s family business and the secrecy around it, they’d become close friends, sharing almost everything—except business. Matteo cherished having a friend to talk about girls with, watch football, joke about traffic, or complain about electric bills—normal stuff. That friendship had remained untouched until two years ago, when everything changed for Louis and Matteo brought him into the family business. Now, fate was twisting their relationship again—from friends and coworkers to something even closer, possibly family. This only strengthened Matteo’s resolve.

Louis sank into a chair as if his legs might give out. “Jesus.”

“I’m taking her to Carmela’s too.”

“Jesus, Accardi, don’t you think that’s a bit soon? Maybe you should wait until—”

Matteo slammed his fist on the table. “Why does everyone keep telling me to wait?”

“Because this is irrational!” Louis exploded, never one to mince words with Matteo. “You met this woman a few weeks ago, and now you’re taking her to a restaurant where every high-powered Italian in the city will assume you’re planning to make her your wife!”

Just then, a sharp, piercing alarm blared. Louis covered his ears while a heavy weight settled in Matteo’s chest. His eyes locked onto his keychain, where a small circular tag blinked red, emitting a high-pitched frequency. It was an alarm—one he was certain had never been triggered before. Goosebumps prickled his arms as he realized what it was: Leo’s panic button.

The room fell into tense silence, the weight of impending danger hanging thick in the air.