Chapter 6

The café was silent, except for the soft hiss of burning tobacco. Smoke curled from Ricardo’s cigarette, wrapping around him like a veil. His black eyes didn’t blink, neither did they soften. They watched Mateo the way a hawk watched a mouse, steady, patient, already knowing the ending.

Mateo kept his head bowed, but he could feel the weight of that stare pressing into him. Every muscle in his body was tight, but his face stayed calm. He had learned long ago that panic only dug the grave faster.

Ricardo took another slow sip of espresso. His voice was calm, almost gentle, but it carried a threat in every word.

“Mi hijo,” he said softly, “you’ve always been the one I trusted. When others failed me, you stood tall. When others lied, you stayed loyal. That is why I ask you again…” his eyes narrowed, they were dark and piercing. “who do you serve?”

Mateo lifted his gaze just enough to meet his. “You, señor. Always you.”

Ricardo tilted his head, studying him. “Always me.” He repeated the words as though tasting them. “Strange, then… that my men spread rumors about something else. That your name is being spoken beside a De Luca.”

The name landed heavy in the room. Lorenzo’s family name. The family they were sworn to fight.

Mateo didn’t move. His chest rose slowly, then fell. “People will always spread rumors. Lies spread faster than truth.”

Ricardo smiled, thin and cruel. “Yes. Lies do spread. But rumors begin somewhere and I do not believe in smoke without fire.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His voice dropped low. “So I give you this chance, Mateo. Look me in the eye. Tell me what happened on that pier.”

The silence that followed felt endless.

Mateo’s hand tightened into a fist at his side, his nails digging into his palm. He forced his breathing to stay even.

At last, he spoke. His voice was steady. “One of your men came for De Luca. I was there, watching from a distance, as you ordered. I was not supposed to interfere. But the fool drew too much noise. Shots fired, witnesses could have heard. I had no choice but to end him. Quickly and cleanly.”

Ricardo’s eyes flickered, unreadable. “To end him? Or to save De Luca?”

The words came like a blow to Matteo. 

Mateo’s jaw tightened. “I don’t save De Lucas,” he said coldly. “I erase problems and that man became a problem.”

Ricardo tapped his cigarette against the ashtray, watching the embers break. “You’re quick with your tongue, Mateo. Too quick.”

“I’ve learned from you,” Mateo answered.

“Then you should know quick words often hide slow truths.” Ricardo leaned closer, smoke spilling between his lips. “Tell me, when that bullet flew, when Lorenzo De Luca should have been a corpse, why was it you who stood in the way?”

Mateo didn’t blink. “Because your man was sloppy. I fixed his mistake.”

Ricardo’s smile curved, sharp as a knife. “You fixed it? Or you chose him?”

“I chose loyalty,” Mateo said flatly. “Loyalty to you.”

“You lie well,” Ricardo murmured.

Mateo’s heart raced, but he kept his face hard. “I don’t lie.”

“Oh, you do.” Ricardo’s thin smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “I raised you too well not to hear it. Your voice is calm, your eyes steady. But your heart….” he tapped a finger against his chest…“beats like a trapped animal.”

Mateo forced a small shrug. “It beats because I stand accused by the man I call father.”

Ricardo’s eyes narrowed at the word. “Father. Do not mistake me for your blood. I made you, yes. I took a starving boy from the street and gave him a name, a purpose, a weapon to hold. But family? That word is not free.”

Mateo bowed his head. “Then call it loyalty. That is what I give you.”

Ricardo studied him for a long moment, letting the silence weigh heavy between them. Then he spoke again, his tone sharper now.

“If I were to send you now, to kill a De Luca in his sleep, would you do it?”

“Yes,” Mateo answered at once, without hesitation.

“Even Lorenzo?” Ricardo’s tone cut like a blade.

Mateo’s jaw twitched. The pause was short, less than a second, but enough.

Ricardo saw it. He always saw it. His smile thinned. “Ah. So it is true. The rumors are not all lies.”

Mateo’s hand curled tight on his thigh. “I hesitated because you asked about him by name. That man….” he began, his voice low, “.....is reckless, but he is not stupid. If he dies too loud, too messy then war begins. You taught me to weigh the cost before swinging the blade. That is what I did.”

Ricardo leaned back, dragging on his cigarette. “You speak well. Clever words. But clever words can still hide betrayal.”

Mateo’s jaw flexed. “If I wanted him dead that night, he would be dead. No hesitation. You know that.”

“And yet…” Ricardo’s voice softened, dangerous in its calm. “You didn’t finish him.”

“The order wasn’t given,” Mateo shot back. “You’ve always told me, never move without your command.”

Ricardo tilted his head, smiling faintly. “So now you hide behind my own lessons. Clever, indeed.”

Mateo said nothing.

Ricardo stood slowly, smoothing the front of his jacket. “So here is what we will do. If you are loyal, you will prove it. Not with words. With blood.”

Mateo’s stomach tightened. “What do you want me to do?”

Ricardo smiled, sharp and thin. “Two nights from now, there will be a gathering. De Luca’s men will drink, laugh, forget to watch their backs. You will be there. You will choose one and you will end him.”

Mateo’s throat went dry. “And if I don’t?”

Ricardo’s eyes gleamed. “Then you are already dead.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Mateo bowed his head, hiding the flicker of fear in his eyes. “It will be done.”

Ricardo stepped close, his hand pressing to Mateo’s shoulder like a father blessing a son. His voice dropped low, almost intimate. “Do not fail me, mi hijo. I have given you everything. And I can take it back.”

He let the words hang, then released his grip. “Go. Prepare.”

Mateo bowed once more and left.

*******************************

Outside, the night air hit him. He walked down the narrow street, his boots echoing off the stones, but his thoughts were louder than his steps.

Ricardo did not trust him. Not fully and now he had been given a task that tied his hands. Kill a De Luca. Spill blood to prove loyalty.

But which De Luca?

The answer already burned in his chest. He knew what Ricardo wanted. He wanted Lorenzo’s head on a silver plate.

Mateo clenched his jaw as he turned into a dark alley, pulling a cigarette from his coat though he never lit it. His hands shook too much to hold the flame steady anyway.

He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes.

He had sworn his life to Ricardo. Without him, he would have been nothing. A street rat, forgotten, dead before fifteen. Ricardo had given him purpose, shelter and power.

But then there was Lorenzo. The man he should hate, the man he should have let die. Yet something about him had cracked through the armor Mateo had worn his whole life. A dangerous pull. One he couldn’t name, couldn’t control.

Now Ricardo had forced his hand.

Kill a De Luca. Or be killed himself.

Mateo pressed his palms into his eyes and let out a low, shaky breath.

“Damn you, Lorenzo,” he whispered. “Damn you for making me choose.”

He has to choose between Loyalty and Temptation and Matteo already knew the one he would go for.