Hunted By The Mafia Prince

Chapter 5: Dad

Sienna stares me down. “So, this is Emma?” She tilts her head and eyes me. “I imagined she’d be a little… taller.”

I ignore her, turning my attention back to Matteo as Gianna and Milena line up beside me.

He’s watching me through narrowed eyes. I can tell he still doesn’t believe me, but I must’ve said enough to put doubts in his mind. He’s not the kind of man who can just brush off the idea of having kids. Back when I knew him, family was the most important thing in his life.

And people don’t change overnight.

Gianna must be following a similar trail of thoughts, for she says, “If you know you f****d her without protection, how can you be so quick to ignore the possibility that she got pregnant? Are you really gonna take a risk like that when your kid’s life is hanging in the balance?”

Matteo’s silent.

She sighs in irritation. “God, men always have to be so dramatic. Just make a decision already. No need to draw out the suspense. Either shoot us or believe us.”

“All in favor of option one?” Theo asks.

Every single person in the venue raises their hand, with the exception of Aria, and, surprisingly, this Sienna girl. She merely continues to stare at us, her features cold and inscrutable.

A long moment passes before Matteo finally asks, “Where’s your proof?”

For the second time tonight, my chest lifts with hope. I scramble to think of anything to provide him with, trying not to let my eagerness show.

“I have their pictures on my phone.”

Lucas scoffs. “Right, ‘cause the internet’s not a thing. You totally can’t pull up a picture of a random kid.”

Milena shakes her head. “You’ll get it when you see them.”

Matteo exchanges a look with his brothers and Sienna, then he turns back to me. He starts walking over, and my heart thumps in sync with every step he takes. By the time he reaches me, it’s fluttering uncontrollably inside of me.

He doesn’t let me reach for the phone myself, no doubt worried I’d try to pull out a weapon, or call for backup.

His hand— warm, heavy with rings— touches my side, and I can’t look away from him. Being so close after all this time, after everything that’s happened… it feels surreal. He makes quick work of finding and yanking my phone out. He turns it on.

And then everything just stops.

My lock screen is a picture of the twins on their first day of school. They’re smiling brightly at the camera— or, at least, Miles is. Liliana’s giving a little smirk.

They’re fraternal twins, but they don’t look much alike, aside from the golden eyes they both inherited from Matteo. Miles has my unruly dark curls, but Liliana shares Matteo’s soft, wavy hair texture. She has his darker skin-tone as well, whereas Miles is pale like me.

I used to have mixed feelings about their resemblance to Matteo, but now I’m grateful for it.

Matteo’s eyes flare with surprise at the sight of them, then with something else. He blinks a few times, like he thinks his eyes might be playing tricks on him.

Lucas and Theo grow concerned due to his utter silence, and they walk over, casting me suspicious glances.

“What’s going on—” Theo starts to ask, but then he cuts himself off when he looks at the screen. “Shit.”

“s**t,” Lucas echoes.

I look at Matteo’s face and find him glaring at me now. His jaw flexes. His knuckles turn white around the phone.

He’s furious.

Beyond furious.

Shit.

***

I don’t know what to do with my hands. I keep them by my sides, but that feels too awkward. I try setting them in my lap. That doesn’t feel good, either. I place them beneath my thighs. Now they’re gonna go numb from all my body weight pressing down on them.

I sigh.

“But, seriously, I mean the absolute badassery that this girl has,” Gianna rants. “Did you see that little hairflip she did?” She whistles. “Hot damn.”

I shoot her a dirty look, even though I know she can’t see it. She’s sitting in the passenger seat running her mouth, while Milena, looking as awkward as the Pope at a strip club, drives us home.

Gianna hasn’t shut up about that Sienna chick since we got in the car. I haven’t stopped wondering about her either, although for entirely different reasons.

I can’t help but be curious about who she is to Matteo. It’s absolutely ridiculous for me to wonder about that, not to mention none of my business, but still.

Meanwhile, Matteo’s been glaring out the window, murder written in bold letters all over his face. He’d forced me to sit in the back with him because he didn’t want to let me out of his sight. I understand the sentiment, but being in such close proximity to him isn’t exactly soothing my overwrought nerves.

“And that dress she was wearing,” Gianna continues. “I mean, s**t, she should not be allowed to wear the color red. With that tan skin, and those mesmerizing dark eyes, and—“

“Shut the f**k up already,” Matteo says harshly.

Gianna scoffs and turns to look at him. “Excuse me, Mister. You don’t order me around like that.”

He leans forward, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I’m about three seconds from sending your head through that windshield. So, unless you want to be roadkill for the other cars on this highway, I suggest you quit testing my patience.”

For the first time since I’d met her, Gianna makes the wise decision and shuts her mouth. She knows as well as I do that he’s not bluffing.

After all, Gianna’s no stranger to Matteo and his ways. She’s known the man even longer than I have. She grew up in his world, a part of the Famiglia, until she decided to leave it all behind and run away with Milena and I.

The rest of the drive passes in a tense silence.

When we finally arrive, Matteo has his hand on his gun. He frowns at the sight of my house, his eyes scanning the perimeter. I get why it may look suspicious to him.

We live in the suburbs of the state of New York. It’s close enough to the city to be able to get to and from work conveniently, but it’s not so close that we would be within Matteo’s reach. I’d decided to move here to avoid stumbling on the Dellucci family or any of their goons.

We get to the door and I hesitate.

I feel like I’m making a big mistake. Bringing Matteo here, to my home, back into my world— it feels wrong. I thought I’d be done with this s**t years ago, after I’d sent him and his people to jail.

It’s funny, really.

You’d think a person would be rewarded for doing the right thing, but for me, it’s the opposite. Every day since then has been one punishment after the other.

Matteo makes an impatient noise beside me, and I exhale a slow breath. I slip my key into the lock and twist it, my other hand pushing down on the doorknob.

The door swings open with a creaky reminder that I need to oil the hinges.

I step inside, and I’m greeted by the sounds of shrieking and loud TV. I make my way to the living room with Matteo hot on my heels.

The twins are standing on the couch, trying to get out of Alex’s reach. Liliana’s holding the TV remote, and when Alex tries to grab it, she tosses it to Miles, then the process repeats itself.

“Put the darn volume down,” Alex groans. “The neighbors are gonna file a noise complaint.”

“Gi Gi and Millie won’t mind,” Miles assures him.

“We have other neighbors than those two!”

“Well, we shouldn’t,” Liliana says sternly, like it’s Alex’s fault. “All the others need to go away.”

Alex tries to take the remote again, but Liliana ducks under his arm and jumps off the couch, clutching the remote to her chest. She slips between Alex’s parted legs and starts running over in my direction when she sees me.

Without breaking stride, she calls out, “Hi, Mommy!” Then she glances over her shoulder and sees Alex getting closer, so she amps up her speed, hurtling past me to where Matteo’s standing.

Liliana’s so preoccupied with her little adventure that she doesn’t fully register Matteo’s presence, nor the fact that he’s a stranger to her. All she sees is a tall, broad figure that can block her from view, so she goes and hides behind his legs, using him as a shield.

Alex comes to a screeching halt beside me. The blood drains from his face as his eyes meet the hard ones of the mafioso standing in our living room.

Then Miles, still back in the living room, calls out, “Dad, come back. Garfield’s starting!”

I wince.

No idea how it’s possible, but the anger in Matteo’s expression doubles. In a deadly calm voice, he asks, “Dad?”

My life has just reached a supreme level of fuckery.