Page 97 of Mafia King's Forbidden Obsession

He scoffs slightly and shifts his gaze towards Matteo, ignoring me. “Ezra has woken up from his coma.”

Ezra's awake. The words register, and hope begins to blossom in my heart. I instinctively cradle my stomach, thinking about how soon he’ll send someone to find me.

“Good,” Matteo’s voice pierces through my thoughts. “I thought for a second he might actually die from that rookie’s mistake.”

I look up to see him smirking down at me while taking out his phone from his pocket.

“Let’s give him a surprising wake up call, shall we?” he says, with a wicked smile, and lifts the phone to his ear.

Oh, no.

Chapter thirty

Ezra

I remember my last argument with Matteo fifteen years ago, before he left, when he took a deal without my knowledge.

“You fucking stole from me!” I growl.

“I did what I had to! A deal with the Americans could have helped our mafia!” Matteo runs both hands aggressively through his hair, his bloodshot eyes locked onto mine.

“But now it’s gone wrong,” I sneer. “You stole from me to make a deal with the Americans. Now it's gone south, and they’re looking for you. Don’t expect me to cover you.”

He flails his hands in the air before slamming them against my desk. “Don’t be a fucking coward, Ezra!”

The anger in me is barely restrained as I watch the heavy rise and fall of his chest.

“The Americans have more resources! Weapons! Men! Drugs! This cartel doesn’t stand a chance against them. They’re fucking ruthless, even to their own, and have no regard for contracts!” I yell, my breathing hard as I start to take small steps toward him. “This is why I warned you to avoid dealing with them.”

The room is silent until he speaks again. “Fuck you, Ezra,” he spits. I see the hint of resentment in his eyes, but I don’t care. He should pay the price for his actions.

“I’m not willing to go to war with the Americans. And your life at stake will not change that.”

After the fight, Matteo left. His whereabouts were unknown for a couple of days, but the Americans didn’t relent, and I knew it was only a matter of time before they turned to my cartel.

They would never believe that I had no hand in the deal. So I did the only thing any calculating man in my shoes would do. I exonerated myself, found Matteo’s location, and ratted him out.

The Americans took him, and since then, I’d heard nothing about him…I assumed he was dead.

Fuck.

The whiskey bottle sitting on the corner of my desk calls out to me, and I pour myself a glass. The liquid swirls as I bring it to my lips, but even that familiar burn does nothing to shake the knot of frustration lodged in my chest.

Raven…why would she leave? I truly thought she loved me. I’m starting to wonder if I was wrong in opening up my heart again.

Just as I take another gulp, a knock sounds on the door before it creaks open. I don’t have to look up to know it’s Elio. He’s been repeating the same action every hour since yesterday.

“Boss, you’ve been holed up in here since you woke up two days ago,” he says for the umpteenth time, promptly snatching the whiskey bottle and glass. “You should be resting and not drinking.”

I wave him off, bringing my eyes to the numerous papers scattered on my desk. “There’s no fucking time for that. Not with Raven missing and Matteo still out there.” My frustration boils over.

“Boss, you took a bullet to the chest,” Elio reminds me, his tone cautious as he returns the drink to its cabinet. His quick steps fill the air before he returns to me.

“Elio,” I snap, finally looking at him. “Just give me updates on what you’ve been working on.”

He clenches his jaw and then releases a breath. “I’ve been looking into likely places he might have taken her, but there’sno luck yet. None of the guards heard their conversation the day that she…” he trails, and I nod.

The day she collected the card from the bastard.

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