Page 53 of When We Fall: Part One
Matteo chuckled. “No. Not tonight.”
“Well, then I’d say we’ve met, and I should go,” Fox said, making to stand.
Matteo held his hand up. “Not so fast. I want to talk.”
Fox settled down in his seat again. “OK. Talk.”
“You’re so very much like your father.Santino.”The name fell from his lips like poison. “Even look like him. Except for your eyes. You have your mother’s eyes.”
I glanced quickly at Fox to see him tighten his hands into fists.
I sent up another silent prayer that we’d get out of here. Based on our interactions, I’d never feared my father before, but I could see how he could trick people, how he could lure them in like a spider before ripping the life from them.
There was only one way out of that room: through him and his men.
I’d take it if I had to. Fox needed to survive.
NINETEEN
FOX
Coming here with Anson had been a mistake. I knew it when I was beating the women off me at the bar, and the feeling had only grown over the past hour.
I couldn’t remember if I’d turned off my GPS tracking on my phone or not, but I really fucking hoped I hadn’t because if I came up missing, Enzo and the guys needed to know where to find my body. If there was even a body left to find. Knowing Matteo De Santis, he’d probably harvest the good parts and sell them to Everett Church before feeding the rest to his dogs.
Anson was on edge. I knew he didn’t want to hurt his father, but I could see the wheels spinning in his head. He was planning on the steps to take when this shit went south.
He wasn’t alone in that respect.
“Tell me this,” Matteo said. “What would you do if tonight were the last night of your life?”
“I’d fight my way out and take a few fuckers with me,” I said fiercely.
Matteo smirked at me. “Truly? You think so?”
“I know so.”
“I admire the fight the most, Constantino. It’s how you really get to know someone. How you plot, plan, and overcome is the true mark of a man.”
“Is that what you did?” I asked, knowing I was about to push some very big buttons. “You lost what you loved, so you became a madman and a monster?”
Instead of coming out guns blazing at me, he let out a soft snort and shook his head.
“Do you believe monsters are born or created?” he asked.
I noted Anson sitting forward, eyeing his father. I felt bad for him. While I knew he wanted a good relationship with the man, I was having trouble processing any of it. I assumed Matteo was the sort of man to put a bullet into your head without the commentary. In this instance, he seemed to be all ears. If I were making a guess, I’d say Anson was surprised, too.
“Created by circumstance, I suppose,” I answered.
Matteo nodded. “So by that line of thinking, you’d agree I had to become what I am due to my circumstances and survival.”
“I suppose so.”
“So then, how can one blame a monster for being a monster? Should we not blame the one who forced them into it?”
“Where are we going with this?” I demanded. “If you want to get philosophical, fine, but just so you know, I’m walking out of here in ten minutes, so make your story quick.”
Matteo let out a soft chuckle. Anson shot me a warning look to cool it. I was always cool, but the thought that I’d not make it home to my Rosie was making me a little pissed off. The idea that she’d wait for me gutted me.
