Chapter 2 - The Shadow of the Past
The rain had turned into a steady, gray drizzle by the time Matteo escorted us out of the diner.
He didn't drive a standard car. Parked at the curb with its hazard lights flashing was a sleek, matte-black bulletproof Mercedes Maybach, flanked by two identical SUVs. A pair of armed bodyguards stood near the passenger door, their dark umbrellas shielding the wet pavement.
When Rosie saw them through the diner window, she dropped her towel.
“Holy mother of God, Mara,” Rosie whispered, grabbing my arm as I zipped Theo’s blue windbreaker. “Who is that man? Is he FBI? Is he the mob?”
“He’s... an old friend, Rosie,” I lied, my throat tightening. “I need to take Theo home. I’ll call you later.”
“Be careful, honey,” she said, her eyes wide with worry as she looked at the armed men outside. “People like that don't just show up by accident.”
She had no idea how right she was.
As we stepped outside into the chilly New York air, Matteo’s primary enforcer, a hulking man with a scarred jaw named Dante, opened the rear door of the Maybach.
Theo looked up at the towering vehicle with wide, amazed eyes. “Mommy, is this a spaceship?”
“It’s a car, buddy,” I said, scooping him up into my arms.
“Get in,” Matteo said, holding the door open.
“I have my own apartment, Matteo. I have my own life,” I hissed under my breath, trying to sidestep him. “I’m taking the subway.”
Matteo didn't argue. He simply reached out, his strong hand gripping my elbow with a firmness that left no room for debate, and guided me into the leather-lined interior of the car. He slid in beside us, pulling the heavy door closed, sealing us off from the noise of the city.
The interior was silent, smelling faintly of leather and expensive cologne.
Theo sat between us on the wide seat, swinging his little legs back and forth, staring at the digital control panels embedded in the doors.
“Sir?” Theo asked, turning his head to look up at Matteo.
“Call me Matteo,” the mafia boss replied, his voice unexpectedly gentle as he looked down at the boy.
“Matteo,” Theo repeated, testing the name on his tongue. “Why are your car doors so thick? My uncle Sal’s car doors are just regular metal, but these sound like bank vaults.”
A faint, sad smile touched Matteo’s lips. He reached out, his large hand resting gently on Theo’s dark curls. “Because sometimes, people try to break in, Theo. And I have to make sure the people inside are safe.”
My chest tightened. Every instinct screamed at me to pull Theo away from him, to protect my son from the darkness that followed Matteo like a shadow. But looking at Matteo’s face—seeing the way his eyes tracked every movement Theo made, the way his jaw softened when Theo smiled—I realized something terrifying: Matteo wasn't just a threat. He was a father who had just discovered he had everything to lose.
“Where are we going?” I asked sharply as the Maybach pulled away from the curb, seamlessly blending into the heavy traffic of the Queensboro Bridge.
“To my penthouse on Fifth Avenue,” Matteo said without looking at me, his gaze still fixed on Theo, who had started playing a game on the built-in tablet.
“I’m not living in your fortress, Matteo. I have a job. I have an apartment—'”
“Your apartment was a converted basement with a rotting floorboard and a lock that wouldn't hold against a stiff breeze,” Matteo interrupted coldly, his eyes finally shifting back to me, hardening like steel. “You lived there because you were hiding from the ghost of a husband you thought was dead. But I am very much alive. And my son will not sleep another night in squalor.”
“I raised him just fine!” I snapped, my temper finally snapping. “He is happy, he is healthy, and he didn't need your money to do it!”
“Quiet, Mara,” Matteo said, his voice dropping into that lethal, commanding register that used to make entire boardrooms stop breathing. “We are not discussing this in front of him.”
Theo looked up from his tablet, sensing the sudden tension in the air. “Mommy, are we in trouble?”
I forced a tight, reassuring smile, pulling him close against my chest. “No, sweetie. Mommy and... and Matteo are just talking about grown-up things.”
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“Okay,” Theo said innocently, before turning back to his game.
The rest of the ride was conducted in absolute silence.
