Playing With The Mafia Prince

Chapter 3: Matteo Delluci

My hand shot out and grabbed Lucas’s arm before he could head over to the Boss’s office. Mel was a good guy, but he didn’t like trouble. He’d know how many problems these bastards would be able to cause him.

He’d have no other choice other than to fire Alex.

“Don’t,” I warned.

Lucas raised his brows at me. “Give me one good reason.”

“Look, you really don’t want to do this-”

“Oh, but I do. He punched me.” Lucas touched his face, his fingers coming back sticky with blood. He didn’t look like he was in pain, though. He was probably used to this sort of thing. “I deserve retribution for this employee’s assault.”

“You provoked him,” I said incredulously. “You’ve been sitting there trying to get a rise out of both of us since you got here, Lucas. Come on, this isn’t middle school. This is a guy’s life you’re messing with.”

The blond smirked over my shoulder at Alex. “It’s over for you, bus boy.”

“You’re a sick f**k,” I whispered.

I couldn’t believe someone could be so genuinely awful. I mean, sure, we heard rumors that these guys weren’t the people to mess with, but I’d always figured they were more bark than bite. This was just a whole other level of nastiness.

Did money really dehumanize people to that extent?

By the time Lucas came back out of the office, one of our co-workers had brought Alex a glass of water, which he was gratefully sipping on. I felt his shoulders trembling slightly beneath my fingers.

The boys that had come with Lucas were divided; some of them were staring impassively between Alex and Lucas, others with a wicked delight that made my stomach churn.

Alex rose slowly off of his bar stool when he saw Mel coming towards him. Mel’s somber expression made my heart drop.

“I’m sorry, kid. You know the rules. I’ll write you a check in the office, and you can leave your apron in the kitchen.”

“But, sir-”

Mel gave me a long look that told me everything I needed to know.

He couldn’t do anything about it. I was studying to be a lawyer, and I knew what sort of lawsuits and legal issues a rich family like Lucas’s could cause this small business.

I also knew that the ‘justice’ system was more likely to side with the money than the innocent.

So I did nothing as Alex removed his apron and placed it carefully on a hanger in the kitchen. He handed Mel his employee card, shook his hand, and it was over.

Alex, who’d been working here for three years and depended on this job to pay his bills, was no longer an employee.

Mel told everyone to get back to work, and they did so obediently. Lucas and his dogs ducked out of the place after one last smirk in our direction.

“I’m going to kick his ass,” I hissed under my breath.

Alex chuckled softly. “With those noodle arms?”

“I’ve got more muscle than you!” I protested, rolling my eyes.

He picked up my arm, looking down at it with disbelief, his fingers skimming along my skin. It made me shiver. He noticed and did it again, trailing his fingers slower, more deliberately.

“What are you gonna do?” I took his hand off my arm.

“I’ll find another job. What else can I do?”

My chest felt tight. I wished there was some way I could help, but there was nothing that someone like me could do. I didn’t have any money to offer him. I didn’t have any influence.

I massaged my aching temples.

Alex had been by my side since I’d stumbled into this place looking for a job last year. He’d stood by me on my worst days, and it seriously sucked that I couldn’t do the same for him.

“This isn’t your fault or anything. You know that, right?” Alex used my chin to bring my eyes up to his.

He was a few inches taller than me, something that he could never stop throwing in my face, so I had to crane my neck slightly to look at him.

Isn’t it my fault, though?

I didn’t say it out loud, but he must’ve seen the guilt in my eyes, for he said, “You had nothing to do with this. That was between that d**k and me.”

I nodded, if only to get him off the subject. I could tell he was feeling worse about it by the minute, hating the way he lost control. I wanted to say it wasn’t his fault either, but I had to go take care of the customers that had come in.

I knew nothing I would say would make him feel better, anyway. Alex was like that. He liked to blame himself a lot. I suppose I’m not one to talk, though.

The rest of my shift went by all too slowly. I finally dragged myself out, having just enough time to tame the wild curls on my head before I had to head to my next class.

Political Theory.

I gulped at the thought of what Matteo had in store for me, but I’d be damned if I ran away from confrontation like a coward. Alex insisted on walking me from work to the lecture, although I knew it was very inconvenient for him.

I chattered his ear off the whole way there, trying to distract him from his thoughts.

“And then he was all like, ‘Suzie’s tongue is in my ear,’ and I was all—”

“Suzie’s tongue is what?”

I turned around with a laugh to face Dev. Her nose was wrinkled, brows furrowed in a way that made it clear she was rethinking our friendship. She held her hand up before I could explain myself.

“I do not want to hear about your kinky extracurriculars.”

“It wasn’t even me,” I grumbled.

Her attention had been diverted, however. Dev looked at Alex with a small sad smile.

“I’m sorry about what Lucas did.” She seemed the most earnest I’d ever seen her with him.

They were constantly bickering and teasing one another, so it was a surprise to see her this way. Alex waved her apology off airily.

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“He’s my step-brother.”

“That doesn’t mean s**t to me.”

And so the arguing began again. I excused myself, though I doubt either of them heard me. When I got into class, I looked around with no small amount of trepidation, looking for any sign of a trap Matteo might've set for me.

He wasn’t even there.

Luckily, he had no other companions in this class either. Well, other than the group of girls that were always crowding him, but they were far enough from my seat.

I felt my whole body loosen with relief as I took my spot. The pervert who always sat to my right perked up immediately. No doubt he began thinking of ways to make the lecture uncomfortable for me.

I suppressed a groan.

We were about halfway through the class when the double doors of the hall were sent flying open. Everyone looked back and my stomach clenched painfully at the sight of Matteo standing in the doorway.

Oh no.

“Mr. Delluci,” Dr. Conteh, the professor, said in that nasally drawl of hers. “Do you think my class is such a joke that anyone can just barge in a half hour late?”

I almost nodded encouragingly.

You tell him, professor.

It was so rare to see anyone, student or faculty, put Matteo in his place. But then he gave her a self-deprecating smile and walked in, letting the door swing shut behind him. I could practically hear the swooning.

“My apologies, professor,” he said easily, respectfully. “Your class is way too important for me to ever think that. President Whitlaw and I got a little carried away in conversation, but he wrote you a note to inform you of his regret.”

Gasp.

He walked down to her desk, not rushing, like he had all the time in the world, and he dropped off a little note he was holding.

Dr. Conteh, who had paled at the mention of Columbia University’s president, picked the note up quickly and inspected it. She seemed satisfied by its contents and nodded towards Matteo.

“Take a seat, Mr. Delluci, and please try to be more punctual next time,” she said, but her tone was much softer now.

“Of course, ma’am.” His grin was fluid and practiced.

I could feel my blood boiling. This stupid, privileged, little—

“Can I sit here?”

I looked up at him, feeling a mixture of annoyance and something else that I didn’t want to admit just yet. I looked up and down the lecture hall.

Sure enough, this was the only empty seat in sight.

I moved my backpack off of the seat wordlessly, deciding that I didn’t want to risk Dr. Conteh’s wrath since her class had already been interrupted once.

When he sat down, I was all too aware of his arm touching mine, of his smell.

No, no, no, Emma. Bad News. Very bad. Terrible.

Fortunately, I was soon distracted by the pervert sitting on my other side. Seemingly sensing competition, he had decided to up his game from just leering at me. He, very intentionally, threw his eraser, which he wasn’t even using because the notes weren’t on paper, into my lap.

Then the pervert actually tried to reach for it.

I grabbed him by the wrist before he could, my grip as tight as I could manage, and satisfaction flared within me at his wince. I took the eraser out of my lap and got up to throw it in the trash.

The rest of the class went on as it usually did, with Matteo and I being just about the only participants in discussions. By the end, I tried to make a run for it, only to have Matteo block my way.

“I’m sorry, what was your name?” He asked, his smile friendly and interested.

People stared. And I don’t mean sneaky little glances out of the corner of their eyes. No, they full on stopped what they were doing and gaped at us.

I couldn’t blame them.

I’d honestly do the same if I saw the leader of the biggest fraternity, the man frequently referred to as the King of New York, talking to a scholarship nobody.

I doubt any of them had seen me around anywhere other than the library or maybe out on a run. It’s not that I didn’t like going out, partying, all that, I just didn’t have the time.

I had to work my ass off to maintain the GPA that had gotten me a free ride into this school and to make enough money to send back home.

The word fake ran through my mind as I took in Matteo’s all too perfect and charming expression.

He was good looking—there was no doubt about that. But the row of straight white teeth he had on display and his dimples did little to hide the fact that his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

I didn’t smile back.

“Emma.” I tried to cut past him, but he intercepted me again, making me sigh in frustration. After the interaction with Lucas earlier, this was the last thing I needed.

“I’m Matteo Delluci.”

I know. Everybody knows. Just because I’m invisible to you doesn’t mean you are to me.

He held out his hand for me to shake and I took it in spite of myself. His palm was warm against my skin, rough and calloused. It was the hand of someone who used it a lot, worked hard, not what I imagined some rich frat boy’s hand would be like.

He wore lots of rings too; there were silver ones with large stones on them and smaller, thinner ones. Matteo’s grip was firm, but unlike the other men I’ve shaken hands with, he didn’t try to squeeze the life out of me to show his dominance.

Still, something about his touch had me jittery.

I pulled away from the brown-skinned man, taking a step back.

I just wanted to go home. Take a shower. Get some pizza or something.

“Where are you off to?” His tone was engaging and polite.

I wonder how long it took him to nail that attitude. My mom would kill for me to act that way. Speaking of, I reminded myself to call home tonight to check in. It’s been a few days.

“Why? You wanna know where to send your dogs off to?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

Matteo’s smile did not falter. It remained firmly present, like it was plastered on his face with super glue or something.

“No, I wanted to see if maybe you’d be on my way.”

I sighed. “Look, I don’t know what you want, and to be very honest, I don’t have it in me to care. If you’re trying to provoke me or do something similar to what your bitches did with Alex earlier, then get it over with already.”

“What?” He asked, his eyebrows drawn together, almost making me believe that he was genuinely concerned. “Why would I be trying to provoke you?”

His eyes, the color of an old copper penny, were wide at my accusation.

“You know, I’m starting to think you’re worse than Lucas. At least he doesn’t beat around the bush or pretend like you do.”

Matteo’s smile turned into one of amusement. God, nothing gets to this man.

“What makes you think I’m beating around the bush? Maybe this is my way of making amends for the other day.” He took a step closer to me, and I hated the way my body reacted to it.

“I honestly don’t know what Lucas has done to offend you, but I promise I had nothing to do with it. The other day, I didn’t want things to escalate that much.”

He looked sincere. It did make sense when I thought about it. From what I’ve heard about Matteo, he didn’t sound petty enough to be bothered with this kind of thing.

So I nodded.

His phone dinged from where it was in his pocket. Matteo didn’t pull it out to check it, didn’t even break eye contact, but he gave me another bright smile, wished me a good day, and left.

Just like that.

I caught him winking at a couple of girls on his way out. I scoffed. Then sighed.

Antonio’s pizza place was calling my name.

I ordered the pizza before I went into the residence hall’s joint bathroom. I figured I’d give it time to get here while I was showering. My mind was surprisingly blank as I stood beneath scalding hot water.

It was a relief to my aching joints, but it did nothing to soothe the heavy weight on my shoulders. I went about my business slowly, trying to linger in the shower, to avoid having to go out and face the world again. Alas, as with all good things, my shower had to come to an end.

I staggered out, wrapping a towel around my body, and doing my best to ignore the girl who shot me an unfriendly look as she walked in.

Looking into the mirror, I started to condition my curls. I wondered if being in my second year of college had made me look more like an actual college student.

My reflection gazed back at me with the same wide dark eyes that I’ve always had, the same bow-shaped lips, which were probably the best thing my mom passed onto me, and the same slightly large nose. My normally pale cheeks were flushed from the heat and humidity of the shower.

I’d always hated the way I resembled my dad when I was younger. I’d never wanted to look into the mirror and have a memory of the man who had gone and gotten himself killed when I was seven because of his gambling debts.

I didn’t want to be a walking reminder of him to my mom, who had to work herself to death every day to pay his debts and feed my sisters and I at the same time. As I grew older, however, I’d lost that resemblance.

By now, there was hardly a trace of him left in me.

I sighed, making my way down the residence hall towards my dorm room. Pizza time.