Chapter 4

MATTEO’S POV

PALAZZO LUMINOSA

13 :42 P.M

I walk into Luminosa, one of the biggest hotels in town and I own it. Not a flex, but it’s hard to keep up when my face is branded on every billboard for miles. I try keeping it private, but some things are just too known to be hidden.

“Brother,” Dante Scarpelli calls out, heading towards me.

A smile sprawls across my face at seeing my brother. At thirty-five, Dante is my right-hand man, fierce and more active in the family business than I am. While he oversees planning meetings and being the Underboss on the streets, I play the role of the enforcer of the unit, punishing anyone that endangers this family.

“Dante.” I respond, kissing him on both cheeks.

I might be three years older than him, but he is the tallest Scarpelli brother, and in terms of emotions, he shows less too.

“Everyone is in the boarding room, and they don’t seem very happy.” He explained.

Well, if I wasn’t busy making a woman cum, I would have been here earlier. Besides, I loved tasting my fingers, licking off her sweet honey off every piece of my skin.

I wished I had more time with her, I would have worshipped her body.

Still in thoughts, I get startled when Rafe wraps his hands around me and kisses me on my cheek, making a popping sound.

“Earth to you, Fratello,” he says teasingly.

Blinking, I roll my eyes at his theatrics. “Go get yourself laid, asshole,” I groan out fixing my grey suit.

Holding a hand over his chest and feigning to be hurt, Rafe says, “Ouch! You bruise me, Matteo,”

Laughing, we heard towards the boarding room where all five pillars of the Mafia Family are seated.

Rossi Ferrante, the hit man, Leone Salvatore, obsessed with being the next Don of this family, which wouldn’t happen. He controls the business in two other states. Flavio Mazzone, my adviser, and my father’s best friend. Aside from my brothers, he is the only other person in this family I trust entirely.

To the farthest corner of the table, Cisco Cattaneo, is sitting, nursing a glance of expensive Scotch in his hands, his face a bland expression. He makes sure our illegal goods are transported safely from Mexico into Los Angeles. He knows what he is doing, reason why he is our Dealer.

Sitting next to Cattaneo is Angelo Bianco, and he is the cleaner of the family. If you want a person to disappear, he is the person to call. If you’ve got dead bodies you want taken care off, well, he takes his jump very seriously, and his cleaning services leaves no trace back o any of us.

Ever.

“Don!” They all greet me standing up in a show of respect.

While I hate being called Don, I can’t disappoint my family, so, I nod my head, accepting their greetings.

I slide in the main chair, facing my family, and my brothers sit, each taking a place at my side.

We discuss everything from shipments to business and at the end, they bring up what I’ve been trying to avoid all evening.

“There is talk all over the streets,” Cisco Cattaneo says, knocking back the rest of his whiskey.

The rest of the men agree, nodding their heard at the same time.

“About what?” I asked, pretending not to know what people have been saying. It’s not new to me.

“People talk, Matteo, pay less attention,” Dante says creasing his brows at me.

Ferrante clears his throat before speaking. “That you are incapable of keeping a woman at your side, Scarpelli. It’s not good talk. Other families would die to have what you have build. You need an heir to carry on what you have started.”

I didn’t realize my hands were fisted until my fingernails started biting through my flesh almost drawing blood.

“Giana Salvatore would be a good wife for you, Don. You just need to say a word and a wedding would be conducted,” Leone adds, his body leaning into the table.

He is a very ambitious man, so is his daughter, but I have no intention marrying her.

“I don’t want Giana,” I bark out slamming my fists on the table with full force.

Leone’s eyes flicker a little before he regains his composure.

“Well, it’s not about what you want, Scarpelli. A vote has been casted and unless you have a woman you want to present to this counsel, it is stated that you are to marry Giana Salvatore.” Cisco Cattaneo spits out.

I turn to face Flavio Mazzone for help but his quiet countenance proofs that he can’t help me.

“There is the charity party Leone Salvatore is hosting on Saturday, you both would be introduced then if you come with your arms not wrapped around a woman’s own,” Flavio says.

I see red. Standing up from the table, I scrap the chair backwards and it topples over. Ignoring it, I step over it and walk out of Luminosa.

I have fucking five fucking days to fine myself a date? I don’t even have a woman I am fucking right now because my head has been so deep in running Motarrio Club so much that sex has been the last thing running through my mind.

“Fuck me!” I cuss out loud.

***

MONDAY

STANBURY COLLEGE

07:00 A.M

I walk into my first class of the day, and the chattering of happy students subsides as they spot me walking to stand behind my desk. It is a very heavy morning, yet the class is parked with students. A perk for being a good teacher, I guess.

Outside the mafia world, I am Professor Quinn. I use my middle name and there are bickering that I am Matteo Scarpelli, or a doppelganger. No one has ever dared ask me openly because they fear I might cut them into pieces and through their dismembered parts away where they will never be found.

Well, my only requirement to the school before accepting this job is that my professional life be kept aside from my several businesses. Stanbury accepted my terms and that's how I became a History Professor in their establishment, this year being my fifth year with them.

I am in a deep explanation on the French Revolution when I see a shadow from the corner of my eyes entering my class, panting, drenched from the head to toes and shaking.

“Oww Chuummmm! Tssszzzz! Tszzzzz! Tsszzz!” she sneezes over and over and annoyed, fully attentive now, I turn to glance at who had disturbed my glance.

At first glance, it was wet locs of drenched red hair, and that petite body. When our eyes meet, I knew exactly that it was the same mystery girl I had saved in my club.

“Double fuck me!” I cuss beneath my breathe.