Page 4 of The Lies We Tell

The boy standing next to his father’s chair snorted softly, and Matteo swept him with an appraising gaze. Tomaso Antonetti was young, barely nineteen if he was a day, and the only male heir Salvatore had managed to produce. Illegitimately, if the rumors were true. Matteo was inclined to believe they were.

Tomaso’s hair was bright blond, whereas Salvatore’s was black, aside from the peppering of gray at his temples. The kid had his father’s nose and mouth, though. And, apparently, his arrogance.

“Did you have something you wanted to add, boy?” Matteo replied, noting the flash of anger in the kid’s eyes.

“My time is too valuable to waste on someone as insignificant as you.”

The kid’s voice was thin and squeaky, like his balls hadn’t dropped yet, and Matteo chuckled. “Then why are you here in this meeting? You probably have schoolwork you should be doing.”

Luca barely managed to swallow a laugh, and Matteo fought hard to keep the grin from his lips.

“That’s enough,” Salvatore barked. “I agreed to this meeting as a sign of good faith, but I won’t have you come in here and insult me and mine. I don’t—”

“Excuse me, Father. Have you… Oh,” a female voice said from behind them.

Tessa, Matteo assumed, unless Antonetti had more illegitimate children running around. He very likely did, but Matteo had never heard of him claiming one of the girls as his own. Salvatore Antonetti made it clear he had no use for girls except to trade them like chattel.

Something he had attempted to do by agreeing to marry his daughter to the youngest Gallo son. Not that she’d make it to the altar since they’d killed him along with the rest of his family two weeks ago. The papers hadn’t hesitated to run with the story that the whole thing was a murder-suicide.

Matteo had spent months slowly chipping away at Gallo Industries. It made perfect sense that with everything he’d built crumbling beneath him, Nero Gallo would shoot every member of his family while they slept and then put a gun to his own temple. The papers didn’t need to know it had been Gallo’s niece who’d pulled the trigger.

She deserved her revenge just as Matteo deserved to sit on Sicily’s throne. And he would, as soon as he got rid of Salvatore Antonetti.

“I’m in the middle of a meeting, Tessa,” Antonetti replied, voice dripping with disdain.

Matteo bristled at the tone. It was one he knew all too well from his own father.

“I see that,” Tessa replied. Her soft, lyrical voice had an edge of forced sweetness that made Matteo want to grin. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. The caterer wanted to know if you had a chance to look over the final menu for the New Year’s Eve party.”

Antonetti shot Matteo a look, and the scowl deepening his features smoothed into a smug smile. “I haven’t yet. Do you have a copy?”

Matteo shared a glance with Luca as Tessa moved into the room behind them. Another power play from Antonetti. Making them sit here and wait while he handled this mundane business for a party they weren’t invited to.

Turning back to Antonetti, Matteo’s heart stuttered in his chest. Tessa was rounding the edge of the desk and setting a piece of paper in front of her father. Everything he’d ever heard about Antonetti’s only daughter had been unkind. Obviously all of those assholes were blind.

She was stunning, with thick black hair hanging in loose waves down to her waist. A waist that flared out into very generous hips, making Matteo’s mouth water at the sight of them. The image he was conjuring up of running his hands and then his lips and then his tongue over the curve of her thighs and swell of her hips and stomach made his pulse pound.

She was wearing a pair of loosely tailored slacks and an oversized cable-knit sweater. He wouldn’t mind the opportunity to peel it off her and pay homage the curves that were surely underneath. A woman with a body like a goddess deserved to be worshipped like one.

When Matteo caught her eye, she raised a single challenging brow. It only served to make his cock painfully hard.

Antonetti made a few quick notes on the paper and slapped his pen on the desk, drawing Matteo’s attention again. He held eye contact while he handed the paper back to Tessa and dismissed her.

“Tessa,” he said once she’d reached the door. “Don’t interrupt us again.”

“Yes, Father.”

The door closed with a soft click, and the room was silent again, save for the ticking of the grandfather clock against the far wall.

“My apologies,” Antonetti said at last. “Parties have so many moving parts. Where were we?”

“You were explaining to me why you are wasting your time hiding a man who is ultimately useless to you.” Matteo cocked his head while Antonetti’s jaw tensed. “It’s a little odd. Isn’t it a little odd, Luca?”

“It’s very odd,” his brother agreed.

“So tell me,” Matteo said, turning to face Antonetti again. “Where is Drago?”

“I’m done playing these games with you,” Antonetti snapped. “Drago is under my protection. He works for me now.”

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