Chapter 5

Unspoken Desires - Chapter 5

Matteo

I get out of my car and casually make my way towards my parents’ place. Making sure no one senses the tension burning just beneath my skin.

All day, I’ve been trying to reach both my mom and Sophia. But neither of them is answering their phones - straight to voicemail.

Wedding planning shouldn’t take this long. A wedding dress, some bridesmaid dresses, tuxedos for me and the guys, a few white flowers along the aisle. Done. An hour, max.

No matter how much they fight me on it, I’ve decided, next time I see them, I’m turning on the tracking for both their phones. Hell, maybe I’ll ask a jeweler to hide a tracker inside their diamond rings.

I slow my pace a little. I promised my father I’d stay calm and grounded every time I came over to see Sophia.

I still can’t believe he won’t let her move into the penthouse with me. He’s protecting her - from his own son. Keeps saying I need to woo her, earn her love, and deserve her hand in marriage.

She’s mine. I just want to be with her.

Months of holding hands, candlelit dinners, public appearances, and forced celibacy. How does he expect me to survive this?

But somehow, Sophia’s done it.

Being with her, spending time with her… it’s made me lose interest in everyone else.

I step inside the foyer, letting the heavy door swing shut behind me.

My eyes instantly go to the second-floor landing. Since we officially started dating, every time I come over - every single time - she’s there, standing at the top of the stairs. Waiting. Watching. Smiling.

It’s her quiet way of letting me know she missed me.

But today… she’s not. The space is empty. Still.

Something tightens in my chest.

I force myself to stay calm, trying not to jump to conclusions. I can’t show weakness. I can’t give my dad a reason to say I’m not ready to be a husband.

I want to run to her wing. Tear through the hallways, kick in her bedroom door, and take her into my arms. But not yet. I have to see my father first.

He watches everything. He’s waiting to see if I can handle the pressures. If I’ll choose responsibility over impulse. If I’m really man enough to deserve her.

So I turn toward his study - jaw locked, hands clenched, every muscle in my body screaming to run upstairs.

———

I reach my father’s study, but I don’t go in right away.

His voice carries through the heavy oak door, sharp and vicious, like a whip cracking across raw skin.

“What do you mean burnt? How didn’t anyone notice? Our men are laying dead on a sidewalk and no one noticed? If anything happens to them, I will kill you all. Find them - NOW!”

A moment later, something crashes against the wall. Probably a glass but whatever it was, it must have shattered into tiny, helpless pieces.

I take a breath, square my shoulders, and open the door like I haven’t been eavesdropping.

He’s standing behind his desk, chest heaving slightly, hands clenched into fists. The shattered remains of a crystal paperweight glint across the floor near the fireplace.

I step in slowly, playing the role I’ve practiced: calm, controlled, mature.

Smug, even. Because if he’s the one throwing things, then I look good by comparison.

“Everything alright, Dad?” I ask, tone smooth.

He lifts his head at the sound of my voice; and I freeze.

It’s there. Just for a second. Beneath all the fury and frustration, I see it in his eyes. Not rage. Not authority.

Pain.

Something’s wrong. Really wrong.

And suddenly, none of my smugness matters.

Because whatever made him look like that… must be really bad.

Dad doesn’t sit. He doesn’t even blink. His voice comes low and sharp, like a blade pressed too close to bone. “Someone took them.”

He doesn’t need to say who - my heart stops.

“Your mom and Sophia. Right from in front of the bistro. No one saw a thing.” He says, his fury seeping through every word.

“Six of our men are dead on a sidewalk - and no one saw a fucking thing. Your mother’s Rolls Limo was found torched in Henderson. But them? Gone.”

My vision blurs. A low, dark haze swells in my chest: boiling, snarling, dragging something primal to the surface.

“Even the security cameras were tampered with. The getaway car avoided every traffic cam in the city. A planned hit, Matteo. Precision. Clean. No mistakes.” His jaw tightens.

I see red. Panic. Rage. Something deeper. All boiling up from the dark.

My fists clench so tightly I hear my knuckles crack.

“Familia?” One word. Guttural. Ripped from my throat like a warning growl.

Dad shakes his head once.

“No.” His voice is iron now, steady but weighted. “I already spoke to Luca and Mario. Our truce is intact. They offered to send help, but I asked them to keep it quiet. We can’t risk tipping off the wrong people.”

He looks at me dead on, like a man who’s been through this war a thousand times.

“We have traitors. This wasn’t random. Someone on the inside planned it, someone who doesn’t know about the secret truce between the Camorra and the Familia.”

A cold pressure builds in my skull, in my jaw, in my chest. The betrayal coils tighter than the rage. Sophia. My mother. Gone. Because someone thought they could attack us through our women.

I don’t breathe. I don’t move. I just let it all sink in.

Without another word, I turn. My feet move before my mind does - fast, violent strides, then a sprint.

I don’t hear my father call after me. I don’t care what he says.

“I will burn this fucking city to the fucking ground to find them!” I roar, my voice ricocheting off the marble walls. “But I will find them!”

Behind me, I swear I hear my father say - just once - like a man praying for a miracle. “Bring them back.”

Vincent

I had no reason to be driving around aimlessly. I just needed to get out and away from everyone and everything.

I also needed the air, the quiet, and some control.

Since my father recovered from his leg surgery, things have been different. He’s back on his feet and still running the Familia, but both him and my uncle are trying to pull me in more. Wanting me to learn the business and take more of an active role.

I know what that means. Responsibility. Eyes watching. No room for mistakes, or distractions.

The highway was busy with traffic, horns blaring and people yelling profanities at each other.

Spring in New York was honest, sharp in a way winter never was. I switched lanes, tires humming beneath me, and let my mind settle.

I was just flipping through radio stations when my phone function lit up on the dash. Lessia.

I answered without hesitation. “Yeah?”

She didn’t waste time. “Hey Vin… I need to tell you something, and I didn’t want to text.”

Her voice was tight, like she was holding her breath.

“I just got a call, from an old friend I used to know in Vegas. His name’s Cesare.”

Name’s familiar. Tactical guy, good with bombs. I kept my tone neutral. “And?”

“Well, I used to date him. When I was undercover there, until he got sent away on a secret mission. He didn’t even tell me, just vanished one day. I found out later that Matteo had sent him to spy on someone. He only knew me as Karen, a university student who worked part time for a temp agency covering administrative jobs.”

The silence between her words hit harder than the words themselves. Like she was justifying her actions.

“He doesn’t know who I really am,” she repeated again, quickly. “I never heard from him again, until today.”

I didn’t say anything right away. Just let the weight of it settle. A guy from the Camorra, thinking he’s reconnecting with an old flame.

She went on. “He called me like nothing ever changed. Wanted to know how I liked Vancouver. And if Canada was as cold as he thought. He also wanted to know if I would consider moving back and if I wanted to help him with something. Something about a shift of power in Vegas.”

“You said, Matteo sent him away for a job, but he doesn’t know what happened with us in Vegas? That’s kind of strange. He must not be in the inner circle.” I say, secretly happy this guy is a nobody.

“You gonna go?” I asked, tone flat.

“No. Of course not.” She was quick to say it, too quick maybe. “I made up some excuse, told him I’d call back after work. Wanted to let you know incase the information about a shift in power means anything for us and the truce.”

“Hey Less, don’t call him yet. Just keep him on the line. I’ll check with dad and uncle. But, I just pulled up to my destination, let me give you a call back. The guys are waiting.” I say and hang up. Not giving her a chance to speak.

I didn’t like it. Hearing her talk about calling an ex boyfriend, I didn’t like it at all.

Damian

I paced the office at H2H, back and forth across the same stretch of marble, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

One minute, I was about to make love to my fiancé. The next, I was sedating her.

I never should’ve told her what Matt said on the phone. But I did. I told her everything. That’s on me.

She started asking questions, and before I knew it, she was spiraling.

Not because she was scared for herself, but for Sophia.

“Matteo worked with Svetlana before,” she said, voice shaky, fingers trembling. “What if he’s trying to hurt Soph?”

I told her it didn’t make sense. That Matteo loves Sophia. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. But she wasn’t hearing it. She was too far gone, caught in her own head, trapped in the worst-case scenario game.

Her breathing got shallow. Her pulse was racing. She wasn’t coming back on her own. I hated doing it, but I gave her a sedative.

Thankfully, she got through to Sophia before I had to step in. And thank God, she picked up.

Sophia and Connie had just finished brunch and were heading home. She had a birthday dinner planned with Matteo.

Sareena winced at his name but didn’t say anything. She chose not to tell Sophia what Matt found. Said Sophia should enjoy her day.

After that, she barely spoke. Just sat there, lost in thought. I stayed close, hoping that would be enough.

It wasn’t. So now I’m here.

The ringing phone snaps me out of it. It’s Gino, so I answer.

“Hey Gino, what’s up?” I ask, trying to hide the chaos still playing out in my head.

“Damian, I’m taking Alexandra to Tuscany, then we’ll travel through Italy for a few weeks. I wanted to let Bambina know, but she’s not answering the phone,” he says.

Perfect. With Gino away, I won’t have to stress him out about his granddaughters being watched by traitors and the Bratva.

He was finally slowing down and started taking care of his health. His Doctor Bambina, made sure of it.

A trip to Italy would be good for him and it keeps him out of the way.

“She’s asleep,” I say. “She had a rough day. But I’ll let her know. When do you leave?”

“Later today. Just heading to the airport. Planned it last minute.” He says. “We’ll probably be gone a month or two, but I’ll be back in time for Sophia’s engagement party. You’ll let her know? Also, tell her Alexandra’s packing all my medications and already called the pharmacy for a two-month supply of everything I’ll need.”

That makes me laugh.

Not only does he have an overprotective granddaughter; who also happens to be his doctor - he’s got a very overprotective wife, too.

We talk a little about work, the usual logistics. He makes me promise to keep him involved in the decision-making before he finally lets me off the phone.

The old man still can’t relinquish control.

I hang up and drop my phone on the desk.

One less thing to deal with. But it doesn’t solve the bigger problem: traitors, Bratva, and too many unknowns.

I lean back in my chair, about to call Matt and Vincent to check where they are when the office doors swing open.

They’re here. Matt walks in first, with Vincent right behind him.

He looks like a damn caveman.

Hair all over the place, beard thick and messy, like he hasn’t seen a mirror in weeks. Clothes are wrinkled and dirty. But his eyes are locked in. Focused.

Still has that fire. Whatever he found, it has to be serious.