Page 70 of Mafia King of Lies

“Matteo,” she begins, her voice soft and uncertain. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

I shift uncomfortably, unused to this vulnerability. “You don’t have to say anything,” I mutter, averting my gaze. “I just thought…”

But before I can finish, Maria closes the distance between us. Her hand reaches out, hesitating for a moment before gently touching my arm. The contact sends a jolt through me, and I find myself looking into her eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “This is… it’s more than I ever expected.”

I stand there, frozen by her touch and the raw gratitude in her eyes. This isn’t how things usually go between us. Our interactions are typically stilted, and formal—a carefully choreographed dance of polite distance. But now, with her hand on my arm and her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, I feel something shift.

“You’re welcome,” I manage, my voice gruffer than I intend. I clear my throat, trying to regain my composure. “I know it’s not Italy, but?—”

“It’s perfect,” Maria interrupts, her voice soft but firm. She looks around the room again, wonder etched on her delicate features. “I can’t believe you remembered my art.”

I shrug, uncomfortable with her praise. “Your father mentioned it. I thought it might help you feel more… at home.”

Maria’s eyes soften at my words, a small smile tugging at her lips. “It does,” she says quietly. “More than you know.”

We stand there for a moment, the air between us charged with a familiar tension. I’m acutely aware of her hand still resting on my arm, the warmth of her touch seeping through my suit jacket.

Not wanting to think too much of it, I grab her hips and pull her toward me. I lean in, slowly, giving her the chance to move away. She doesn’t. Instead, her breath hitches, her lips parting just slightly.

I close the distance between us, brushing my mouth against hers, soft at first—testing. But the moment she exhales, surrendering, I’m lost.

I kiss her deeply, my hand sliding up to cup the side of her neck, my thumb grazing her jaw. She melts into me, her fingers gripping the front of my shirt as if she doesn’t want me to pull away.

When I finally break the kiss, her eyes are dazed, her breathing unsteady.

“I have to leave for business tonight,” I tell her, my voice low. “But when I come back… we can talk.”

Maria nods slowly, her fingers still curled into my shirt.

I step back, letting my hand drop. But before I turn to leave, I notice something—her face is paler than usual, and there’s a slight fatigue in her eyes.

I pause, studying Maria’s face more closely. The color of her skin and the faint shadows under her eyes concern me. It’s subtle, but noticeable to someone who has been observing her as intently as I have these past weeks.

“Are you feeling all right?” I ask, my tone softer than I intended.

Maria blinks, seemingly surprised by my question. She forces a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m fine,” she says quickly. “Just a bit tired, that’s all.”

“Get some rest,” I murmur, brushing my knuckles against her cheek. I press my lips to her forehead and leave her with one lasting kiss.

This is the first time I’m tender with her without thinking too much of it. The actions are like second nature.

“I will text you when I land.” And with those words, I leave her and head to my room to pack.

She watches me go, and something stirs in my chest—a flicker of something I thought was long dead. I wait for the panic to set in. It never does. And that terrifies me.

21

MARIA

Sleep clings to me like a heavy fog, my body weak from the past few days. Matteo has been gone for days, but true to his word, he texted me. The messages were light—teasing, almost. He’s still keeping me at arm’s length, but for the first time, I think he’s trying.

My stomach twists violently, another wave of nausea forcing me still. The bathroom has become my second home, the cold porcelain of the toilet bowl an unwelcome comfort. Something is wrong with me—but what?

The door slams open, a sharp burst of sound shattering my half-asleep haze. “Maria!” Ginny’s voice cuts through the fog, dragging me back to reality.

Crap, I forgot she said she was coming over today.

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