Page 31 of Mafia King of Lies

I offer a sweet, pointed smile. “Good. Now, bring my husband a bottle of water. Mine should be sparkling—room temperature.”

I clap once and turn away, feeling victorious.

I pause when I see Matteo holding my notebook. My breath catches.

I storm over and rip it from his hands. “Excuse you.”

Shutting the book, I press it to my chest. “Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to dig through people’s things?”

“You’re actually really good.” He ignores my irritation, his eyes piercing through my soul. “Quite good, I might add.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks, and my fingers tighten around the notebook. “Stop touching my stuff, Matteo. It’s not yours to snoop through.”

I drop into my seat and buckle my belt, refusing to meet his gaze. I can only hope he didn’t flip through it. No one has ever seen my sketches—I never allowed anyone to. They were deeply personal.

Matteo leans back, watching me. “It fell to the floor, and I accidentally saw the drawing. I was just curious—I didn’t mean to.”

He tries to engage me again, but I keep my mouth shut and my eyes locked on the window.

What do you see, Matteo? What are you thinking?

But I don’t ask. I don’t want to know.

My parents are no longer on the tarmac, and the jet begins to roll out.

This is going to be a long flight.

And an even longer life with this man.

10

MATTEO

“Can you not stare?”

After almost seven hours of flying, those are the first words my wife says to me as we begin our descent to JFK. Her tone is sharp, laced with irritation. “It’s weird and creepy.”

“I’ve been called worse.” I close my files and fasten my seatbelt, giving her a slow, amused smile. “Try a little harder, kitten.”

Her scowl deepens. “Don’t call me that.”

My brow lifts. “What? Not a fan of your new name? Funny, I didn’t think you had it in you to put a woman in her place like that.”

“I didn’t take you for the kind of man who lets women disrespect his wife,” she shoots back. “There should have never been a need for me to do that in the first place. If you hadn’t indulged her, she wouldn’t have stepped out of line.”

“Indulged her?” I let out a short laugh. “How, exactly?”

“You didn’t tell her to back off,” she huffs, frustration burning in her voice. “She was flirting with you, and instead of shutting it down, you answered her.”

I blink. “Maria, indulging her would’ve been bending her over this table between us. Did I fuck her? No. I simply responded.”

Her jaw drops slightly before she snaps her mouth shut. “Must you be so… so crass?”

I smirk, enjoying her discomfort. “I’m telling you the truth. But if it bothers you, I’ll take note of it and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

She eyes me suspiciously. “Is that meant to be an apology?”

I shake my head. “No, because I’m not sorry. But I will make an effort to ensure women know their place around me.”

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