Page 94 of Ruthless God

I looked up and up, coming to the familiar face of a man.

“Hey,” the man said, smiling at me. I didn’t trust his smile one bit. Too…oily.

I blinked, trying to think where I had seen him.

He must have realized I didn’t recognize him because he said, “I’m Marco. Massimo’s cousin. We met at your wedding.”

He let out a light laugh.

I shot him a cautious smile. “Hi, it’s nice to see you again.”

He grabbed the empty seat Matteo had just occupied moments before. I looked back to the window. Matteo was still talking on the phone.

“It is nice. Tell me, what are you doing here all alone?”

I shook my head. “I’m not alone. I’m here with Matteo.”

He narrowed his eyes as if thinking hard about something. “Not Massimo?”

I shook my head. “Massimo is traveling.”

He stilled. That was the only way I could describe his reaction. I didn’t know what to make of it.

“And where exactly is he traveling to?”

“New York,” I answered before I thought better of it. Marco might be Massimo’s cousin, but I didn’t think they trusted each other all that much. Maybe I shouldn’t have said where Massimo had gone.

It didn’t matter because it looked as if all the color had drained from his face.

“Are you okay?” I asked, afraid he might pass out on me.

“Did they say why they were going to New York?” he croaked out.

I shrugged. I knew Massimo was going to attend Lina’s wedding, but I felt like I had already said too much. “Massimo doesn’t discuss his plans with me.”

“So? You’re his wife. I’m sure you have some inkling,” he said, his voice on edge.

Before I could answer him, a cold voice came out. “You’re in my seat.”

I let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Matteo. Marco stuttered something incomprehensible as he quickly got out of his seat. “Matteo.”

“Marco,” Matteo said. I was right. Massimo and his brothers didn’t trust Marco, and I would do well to remember that.

“I was just leaving,” Marco said.

He walked quickly out of the restaurant before Matteo could respond.

I watched as Matteo glared at the other man’s retreating back.

“You don’t like him much.”

“I don’t trust him. What did he want with you?”

I shook my head. “Nothing much. I think he was just saying hi.”

“The fucker doesn’t just say hi,” Matteo said, shaking his head.

“I told him Massimo was in New York,” I confessed. “Do you think it’s okay?”

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