Page 120 of Mafia King of Lies

“I never meant for any of this to happen.” My voice is rough, raw. “I can’t make it right, I can’t bring him back to life. But what I do know is that I love you, Maria. You are my soul and heart intertwined. I can take your hatred. I can brave your anger. But I’m begging you—please don’t leave me. I… I love you.”

Seconds pass, and for a moment, I believe that she is going to remain quiet. But then I hear some shuffling and the subtle sound of the door clicking.

The click of the lock is the loudest sound I’ve heard in my life.

I scramble to my feet and wait for her to open the door. My heart rests on the floor, the anxiety choking me. She stands there with red-rimmed eyes and flushed cheeks.

“You love me?”

Her voice is barely a whisper.

I look at her.

“I… I love you, amore mio.”

There it is. I finally said it. And God, it hurts more than I ever expected. The words hang in the silence—louder than any gunshot I’ve ever fired.

“I thought after Beatrice… that part of me had died. That love—real love—was buried six feet under with her, left to rot where no one could ever touch it again. That those words would never tear their way out of my mouth… out of my heart. That part of me is dead, gone. I swore I’d never feel this again—never let myself feel this again. Not because I couldn’t. But because I didn’t deserve you.”

I take a breath that burns all the way down.

“But now it’s here. Ugly. Honest. Unstoppable. Not polished or perfect—just real. Just mine. Dragged from the darkest part of me and laid at your feet— like a wound ripped wide open,

like a prayer…and a curse all at once. A confession. A plea. A surrender. And maybe… a mistake. Because if you walk awaynow, I don’t know if there’s any part of me left that will survive it.”

The silence between us stretches, taut and trembling, from seconds into an eternity. But I don’t move—I can’t. I just watch her. Watch as her eyes scan my face like she’s searching for the man she once believed in. A thousand emotions ripple through them—rage, grief, disbelief, something dangerously close to hope—and I take it all. I take every silent scream behind her stare because it’s all I deserve.

I open my mouth to speak again—one more plea— but the words are quickly swallowed by her kiss.

And in that moment, I know: She’s the only mercy I’ll ever be granted.

35

MARIA

Matteo kisses me like he’s trying to erase every moment of pain between us.

His hands cradle my face, his touch rough and desperate, like he’s terrified that if he lets go, I’ll slip through his fingers. His lips move over mine with a hunger that steals my breath, swallowing every doubt, every fractured thought.

And for a moment, I let him.

I let myself drown in him. In his warmth, his scent, the way his body presses against mine like it belongs there.

Because the truth is, I want him. I want to lose myself in this—just for tonight. I want to forget what I know, forget the war raging inside my heart.

So I kiss him back. Hard.

His grip tightens, a low growl vibrating in his chest as he presses me against the door. Heat pulses between us, fierce and demanding, and when his hands slide down to my waist, pulling me closer, I let out a soft gasp.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to rest his forehead against mine, his breath ragged. “Maria…”

I close my eyes. If he says he loves me again, I’ll break.

So I kiss him before he can. I don’t want to think right now, I don’t want to feel. I just want his body against mine. But then he rips his lips from mine again and presses his forehead against mine.

“Maria,” he breathes. “We need to?—”

“No, we don’t.” I grab the back of his neck. “You can either fuck me right here, right now, or you can leave this room and never come back inside.”

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