Page 90 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

“Bullshit,” Matteo says. “You don’t believe that, and neither do I. Don’t ever fucking compare yourself to him.”

“He’d have had a gun. He could have defended himself. I had, what? Two shoes?”

“You managed to stab one of them.”

“It didn’t do Molly any good.”

He falls silent for a long time and I don’t need to ask what he’s thinking. I know. He’s thinking Conor would have fucked it all up, and he might be right. I keep playing all the different ‘what-if’ games when it all crashes over me, but I’ve never shared my thoughts with anyone in the family. It hurts everyone too much.

So I keep everything to myself. I’ve never shared any of it, not even with Patty. He worshiped Molly. And I love my brother, so upsetting him by rehashing something he wasn’t anywhere near—and yeah, he’s blamed the fuck out of himself for Molly because he was too young to be with us—isn’t high on my list of things to do. Quinn and Niall were angry and full of teenage emotions and talking about it sparks that all over again. My aunt gets upset to the point she can’t do anything, and Dad?

He shuts down or rants.

Matteo is the first person who’s listened quietly, calmly, and let me talk. And…and I soften a little, deep inside, because of that.

There really is more to this man than I ever thought.

“Did you ever find out why they targeted her?” he asks. “Or get any intel?”

“Her father broke up a sex-trafficking ring those assholes ran out of the Grand Canal Dock in Dublin. They got revenge by taking his daughter.”

“What happened to her?”

My shoulders slump. “She was never found. It keeps me up most nights, wondering what happened to her, where she went, if she’s still alive. But as hard as everyone tried, we couldn’t find her. It’s like the Earth swallowed her up.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “Butamore mio, you need to stop beating yourself up. It doesn’t do anyone any good, and trust me, it doesn’t bring anyone back. You were only eighteen. You didn’t know how to?—”

“But I should have! When we were in Dublin on that summer break, I’d found out my father was going to choose Conor over me. It just made things that much worse that I’d let Molly get taken. After that, I figured my chances at leading the family were nil.”

I sound like that’s all I care about. It’s not. Far from it. But it’s all I’ve got.

“I get it. I do. But that’s not how things turned out,” Matteo says. “You and Conor are on the same level. You have the same amount of power.”

“After Molly was taken, the decision was for both of us to support Dad. But since Dublin, Conor’s battled me, looking for a shot to take me out.” I let out a bitter laugh. “I guess he finally figured out how. All he needed to do was kill a cartel lieutenant and boom! His competition gets married off, and the thorn in his side removed.”

“I don’t think you see it clearly, Heaven,” he says with a smile. “Stepping in was my decision. Because of you. Conor got himself a world of trouble by killing Santos. Your brother’s an egotistical asshole with something to prove. He’s too stupid to do something that strategic. And it’s not even strategic. There are too many variables at play. No way did your family know I’d take the offer. You weremydeal breaker, no one else’s. If Declan hadn’t agreed, I’d have walked. You give Conor more credit than he deserves.”

His words floor me. I thought I was nothing more than a pawn, something to palm off on this man so my brother would be safe. And though he doesn’t say anything for me to think differently, there’s a note in his voice, a quiet fierceness that says he wanted me. Chose me.

I’ve seen the things this man has. The power. While I’m not privy to the day-to-day of his world, even in this short time I’ve seen the difference in how people treat me. He wants to merge with us because I know Hell’s Kitchen and the ties our family have made hold more power than we do as players on the mafia board.

What’s the thing people say about New York restaurants? If you removed all the dishwashers and bus boys and all the under-the-table payments, the entire system would collapse. We’re not quite as important, but we’re similar. Small, but with a power greater than the sum of its parts. The big names, bigger than Dad, would struggle without the grease from the Mulligans.

A man as smart and as ruthless as Matteo would see that. Does see that. So, he chose me.

But it strikes me he didn’t have to. Dominguez is frightening enough, dirty enough, wild enough that to protect Conor, me and my brothers, Dad would have given Matteo half the business without giving me up. But offering me to Matteo means Dad keeps the business in the family. It cuts into the power Matteo could take.

And he chose me.

At least, I think this is what happened.

I want to ask him, but I don’t. I’m already in emotional overload and sitting with this sudden understanding is enough. And I can see Matteo in a slightly different light now.

“You have this look on your face like you had some kind of epiphany, Heaven.”

“I’m just thinking about what you said, in choosing me.”

“And what is it you’re thinking,amore mio?”

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