Chapter 28

Matteo’s POV

My head felt like it had been split open and stitched back together with blunt wire when I opened my eyes for a second.

I groaned and rolled onto my side when the chandelier above me came into view, my body stiff, my neck protesting immediately.

As I adjusted my weight, the leather creaked beneath me. And that’s when I realized I was on the couch.

I opened my eyes slowly, the ceiling coming into full focus inch by inch, and that was when it hit me completely.

I was still in my clothes.

The same charcoal suit from yesterday’s board meeting, wrinkled now, jacket discarded somewhere on the floor, tie loosened but still hanging around my neck like a noose. My shoes were gone, but that was the only mercy I’d been afforded.

“What the fuck…” I muttered, placing a hand over my banging head.

I pushed myself upright, every movement sending a dull throb through my skull.

The room smelled faintly of whiskey and citrus cleaner. My memory came back in jagged flashes as I tried to stand up. Marco’s voice, the stairs blurring, the kitchen light. And then her.

I froze.

The image of Zara standing there with a glass of water flickered through my mind uninvited. The way she’d caught me when I had stumbled, the way our eyes had locked.

I clenched my jaw and stood abruptly, shoving the thought aside, raking through my hair.

My phone buzzed violently on the coffee table, with tired hands, I grabbed it.

12 missed calls. 8 messages.

All from my father. Theo Ferraro.

I exhaled slowly through my nose at the sight of it, thumb hovering before opening the messages.

“You embarrassed this family. The Angelo's deal fell through. Explain why?. You had one job, Mattteo. One!!. Call me. Now!”

My jaw tightened until it ached and in anger I slammed the phone onto the couch and ran a hand through my hair, pacing the length of the living room.

The deal hadn’t just fallen through, it had detonated. Months of groundwork, leverage, and negotiation, all gone because someone couldn’t keep their mouth shut.

Because someone had underestimated the Angelos. And because my father, always my father, was watching from afar, waiting for the moment I slipped.

I stopped pacing, feeling frustrated more than ever.

“Fuck,” I snarled, slamming my fist into the nearby table. The impact cracked through the room, sharp and satisfying for half a second then pain exploded up my arm.

I hissed in pain, pulling my hand back and then I saw it. Blood streaming down my fist. Bright red streaks ran across my knuckles, dripping onto the floor.

As I panted, I stared at it for a moment, with my chest rising and falling hard.

“Perfect,” I muttered.

I hurried up to the bathroom, turned on the sink, and shoved my hand under cold water. The sting grounded me, anchored me back into my body but didn’t do much in making me any better.

I grabbed the first aid box from beneath the sink, wrapping my knuckles with practiced efficiency.

I cleaned up afterwards, changed into a fresh suit, and ignored the faint ache in my head that refused to go away. By the time I stepped out of the house, I was composed again, mask firmly back in place as expected.

A couple of hours later, I hopped right into my car and headed straight to the office. By the time I walked into the conference room, my patience was already razor-thin seeing that they were waiting for me.

Six men sat around the table. Some even avoided my gaze while others watched me carefully, like prey gauging a predator’s mood.

“Sit,” I said flatly as I walked and then they did. I dropped my phone onto the table alongside my other work materials for the day.

“Who wants to explain why the Angelos pulled out at the last minute?” I asked. Just when I did, silence filled the room, as they all stared at one another.

Slowly losing my patience, I leaned forward, palms flat on the table. “I’m not asking twice.”

Rico cleared his throat. “There were… complications.”

I looked at him slowly. “Define ‘complications.’”

“They wanted revised terms. More control over distribution routes.”

“And?”

“And we said no. Amongst all other reasons.”

I stifled a laugh, humorless staring at him. “You said no.”

Rico stiffened. “We discussed it.”

“No,” I snapped. “You decided. Without me.”

He bristled. “We thought it would weaken our position.”

“And now?” I asked quietly. “Where’s our position now?”

No one answered, instead they all had their heads bowed.

“What other reasons aside from that, if I may ask,” I said, pretending like I had no clue whatsoever about why the deal had been called off.

“The video,” another board member cut in.

I perked up to my feet, straightened, and began pacing, the sound of my shoes against the floor the only noise in the room. Slowly hating the fact that I was reminded of that fact.

“And neither of you thought it wise to find a way to have that damn video taken down, or even find the culprit who had posted that?” I continued.

Rico scoffed under his breath and I stopped. Rico Marco, my right-hand man in the Italian branch. Handles day-to-day operations, logistics, and enforcement. Has been with the family long enough to feel entitled to an opinion. Knows the inner workings of deals, routes, and alliances. Someone whom I once trusted without question

“What was that?” I asked angrily.

“Nothing,” he responded quickly and then I stepped closer. “Say it again.”

“I feel it’s because—-” He stood. “Maybe if you hadn’t been distracted, this wouldn’t have happened.”

The room went still and I turned to glare at him fully this time. With so much anger swirling in my veins as I watched his lips move.

“Distracted?” I repeated softly with an arched brow.

“You’ve been off your game Sir,” Rico pressed on, emboldened by something I couldn’t yet identify. Even from just staring at him. “You missed key calls. You delayed decisions. That deal was shaky from the start.”

I was in front of him in two strides, but I held back. With my teeth and fists clenched remembering how bad it would be when I punch him in the face.

“Sit,” I ordered but he didn’t.

“I said sit the fuck down.”

Instead, he laughed nervously and then looked at me straight in the eyes “Or what?”

The air shifted and I leaned in close enough for him to smell the whiskey still lingering faintly on my breath from last night. “Or you’ll walk out of this room unemployed and lucky.”

“You wouldn’t—”

“I just did.” The words fell cold and final between us.

Rico stared at me. “You’re firing me?”

“Yes.”

“For questioning you?”

“For forgetting who you work for.”

His face flushed. “This is bullshit.”

“Get out,” I said calmly. “Before I make this uglier than it needs to be.”

He hesitated and I straightened. “Security.”

Rico grabbed his jacket, muttering curses under his breath as he stormed out. The door slammed behind him, echoing like a gunshot.

And then I turned back to the others.

“Anyone else feel the need to test me today?” I said. But no one spoke.

“Good,” I said. “Then listen carefully.”

I circled the table slowly.

“The Angelos deal is not dead. It’s wounded. And that means we have a chance, one chance to salvage it.”

“How?” someone asked quietly.

“We go hard on it,” I replied. “We give them something they didn’t expect.”

“What’s that?” Marco asked from the corner.

I met his gaze. “Me.”

“I’ll handle the Angelos personally,” I continued. “But if I find out anyone in this room acts without my approval again—”

I let the sentence hang without saying anything else and they fully understood. The meeting adjourned shortly after, but the knot in my chest didn’t loosen.

As I walked back to my office, my phone buzzed again. I stared at my screen and realized it was no one other than..My father.