Chapter 10

Unspoken Desires - Chapter 10

Matthew

Everyone gathered at H2H. Well, almost everyone. Max wasn’t here. And whether anyone wanted to admit it or not, we needed him.

Every single one of us knew this operation wouldn’t work without him. He wasn’t just muscle, he was the precision blade. His tactical skills were unmatched. He was lethal, and loyal to a fault.

But Mario? He wasn’t budging. None of us knew why. Correction. I didn’t know, and neither did Damian. But we were sure Luca and Vincent did. They were staying silent, letting Mario fume and blocking us from bringing in the one guy who could tilt the odds in our favor.

The translators were bent over the files I’d brought back from Lithuania. The old documents, scribbled notes in messy Russian, fragmented codes and names we hadn’t yet decoded.

I caught Damian pulling out his phone. A second later, mine buzzed.

Damian:

“Hey Max, what happened? No one’s saying anything, but we need you on this. Tell us, maybe we can help.”

The typing bubbles popped up fast.

Max:

“I let Gabriella push me, and I couldn’t help myself. Capo caught us making out. She was shirtless. I’m fucked. Don’t care about the Familia. Gabby needs to be okay.

Mario said some nasty shit to her. I had to break up with her.”

I couldn’t stop myself.

Me:

“At least he didn’t catch you two fucking.”

The reply came instantly.

Max:

“Fuck you, Matt. Don’t disrespect Gabby ever. I don’t fucking care who you are.”

Fair. I deserved that one.

Damian:

“You guys still haven’t done it, have you? Just let them know you haven’t touched her like that and get your ass here. We need you on this.”

Me:

“Fuck, no wonder the Bratva are outsmarting us. Our best men all have blue balls. I have been on a hunt and got more action than you both combined. Pretty sure Vin isn’t getting any either. After the mission, I am getting you guys some whores.”

Max:

“Fuck you, Matt. I would never do that to Gabby. I’ve been trying to keep my distance until Mario agreed.

You remember how she gets. Being cramped in the crawl space, I couldn’t control myself. But I should have. I’m not discussing a second of our time together with anyone. Ever.”

I was mid-reply when Luca reached over and yanked the phone right out of my hands.

“I need you to pay attention,” he snapped, cutting through the low murmur of voices around us. “This is fucking serious. More serious than…”

He looked down at the screen. At the open thread. Then he went silent. Frozen.

A beat later, Mario looked up. His eyes narrowed when he saw Luca holding my phone. He strode over and took it straight from his hand.

He read the texts. Slowly. Carefully.

For half a second, just half - relief flickered across his face. Then came the anger. The kind that never really leaves him. Maybe he is the one that needs to get laid.

“He will never get my permission to date my daughter,” Mario said, voice low and cold. “Luca and I have already made arrangements. She’s to marry the son of our Chicago ally. He’ll be their future Capo. Gabby will be his wife.”

The room went dead quiet. No one moved. No one spoke. Because we all knew - Gabby and Max loved each other.

———

Three hours later, the pieces were finally starting to come together. The tension in the room was heavy. Quiet, but calculated. The kind that comes just before a war ignites.

Camorra had a traitor. That much was clear. But this wasn’t just betrayal. This was strategy. A traitor pulling strings from inside, gathering support from within all three organizations. The Camorra, our own Familia, and the Outfit in Chicago.

The defectors weren’t just trying to walk away. They were staging a full-blown coup.

Their plan was brutal in its simplicity: break the hierarchy from within. Kill the people closest to the Capos, the ones whose deaths would fracture us emotionally and operationally. Once chaos hit, they’d strike.

This morning’s ambush? It wasn’t random. It was meant to kill Gabriella and Maximus. A gut punch we weren’t expecting, even though the signs were all there.

Gabby was Mario’s only daughter.

Max, Luca’s personal enforcer. His shadow. Our secret weapon. Two hits. One strike. That is definitely a message.

Luca broke the silence, his voice like gravel. “What did Matteo say when you told him?”

All eyes turned to Damian. He didn’t look up. Just stared down at the floor, jaw tight.

My stomach dropped. “You didn’t call him?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

He shook his head once. No excuse. No explanation.

“Dio santo,” Luca muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Vincent stepped away from the table, pacing toward the far wall. I could see his mind working, rapid-fire. Calculating damage.

Mario didn’t say a word. But I could feel his judgment radiating like heat from across the room.

This was bad. If Matteo was blindsided, if he didn’t know about the plans, if he didn’t move to protect his own people - Then we might already be too late.

Sophia

It’s been three days since they took us.

The limo drove us to some unknown location, in a deserted area, then stopped in front of a housing complex that looked like a cement block.

Four masked men yanked us out and dragged us into what can only be described as a cement cage; bare walls, one toilet, a sink and a tiny little window so high up we could barely reach it.

That’s it. No food. Just water from the faucet that only worked when it felt like working.

Constance has kept her composure throughout this ordeal. That cold, unreadable mask she wears so well never slipped, not even once. She wasn’t going to let them see fear.

Me? I kept thinking about the times I was in Yonkers. As awful as that was, it felt like a five-star resort compared to this. At least there, I knew what the rules were. At least I could breathe.

Yesterday, we heard something outside. It was loud, fast, chaotic. For a second, we thought it was them, finally coming to tell us what they wanted. But they didn’t come to us.

We heard muffled screams and a huge steel door slamming, but then quiet once again.

We tried screaming. Connie and I both. We yelled until our voices were raw, hoping whoever was here could hear us. Nothing. The silence was its own kind of answer.

I looked over at Connie, who was sitting on the floor with her back pressed against the cold concrete wall. Legs crossed. Hands resting neatly in her lap.

She looked like she was waiting for a meeting to start, not wasting away in some makeshift prison.

But I knew better. Up close, I could see the tremble in her fingers. The way she blinked just a little too long. The way her eyes kept drifting to the sink like she was counting every drip. She was holding it together for me.

“We’ll get out of this, Mom,” I said softly, dropping down beside her.

Her eyes met mine. For a second, she didn’t say anything. Then her lips curved into a small, tired smile and her eyes filled with tears.

She pulled me into a hug, arms tight, like she was trying to make up for every moment she hadn’t held me close over the last year.

When I finally pulled back, her voice came low and certain.

“They will come for us.”

And for the first time in days, I let myself believe it.