Chapter 8

Unspoken Desires - Chapter 8

Matthew

We barely made it through the door of H2H when Damian rushed toward us.

“Matt.”

He pulled me into a tight hug. Quick, rough, the kind of hug guys gave when shit hit the fan.

“Good to see you too, brother.” I muttered, clapping his back.

Truth was, I missed them. Vincent and Damian weren’t just my best friends, they were the only people I could confide in and strategize with, without filtering every word.

In this life, you learned fast who you could talk to and who would use your words as weapons. But with them? I could lay it all out.

Vincent stepped in beside me, arms crossed, his face already tight with tension.

“You look like shit,” Damian said.

“Jet lag,” I replied. “And espionage. Take your pick. Let’s get to it.”

Damian nodded once, all business now. “Okay. Let’s see it all. I want to know everything before I call that motherfucker.”

We didn’t have to ask who he meant.

“You haven’t called him yet?” I asked, my voice rising. “Damian, this is serious. You need to warn them. Not for him, it’s for Sophia.”

He flinched like I’d slapped him. His jaw tightened. I could see it in his eyes - he knew I was right.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Okay. Show me what you found.”

I dropped my bag onto the desk and unzipped it, laying out the files, photos, and notes I’d brought back from Svetlana’s hideouts in both Lithuania and Berlin.

“These were in the safe house Svetlana used. We determined that this is her handwriting, it matches the sample records.“

I started pointing things out, tapping the documents. “Here’s the ledger of payments made to the Traitor and here’s the map of all the places Sareena visits. It has to be someone in the Familia. And here, look at this.”

I reached for the most disturbing sheet. The coded messages with references to both the Camorra and Familia, names replaced by titles. But before I could dive deeper - Buzz.

My phone. Vincent’s. Damian’s.

It was Maximus.

We all checked the messages at once. The blood drained from my face as I read the message.

“Shots fired at the Café across from Columbia Fine Arts. Was an ambush. Bratva. Gabriella was the target but she’s with me now. We’re hiding in vent crawlspace near back of location above wall safe. Send backup. Do NOT wait. Siren’s blaring.”

Damian’s face went pale. Vincent’s lips parted in horror.

I swore under my breath and reached for the other set of notes. “That fits in,” I whispered. “Here, they mention the Fatman’s daughter. Here.” I say pointing at the set of scribbles.

“It’s Mario. Mario is fat man and fat man’s daughter must be Gabriella.”

I shoved the pages toward them. “Look. ‘Fatman’s daughter’ - kill her to destabilize East Coast. When panic, block gun trade.’”

No real names. No real details. But it was clear.

“Fuck!” Vincent shouted, slamming his fist against the table. “They went after Gabby to keep us busy while they attack?”

We were already moving. Grabbing guns, keys, anything we may need.

“We need to move now,” I said, leaving everything on the desk.

Damian was already sending a message back to Max. Vincent typed furiously, sending messages to his dad and Uncle Mario.

Gabriella was the target, but only as a distraction. Her life meant nothing.

Gabriella

Maximus’s lips were fire against mine. Rough, needy and desperate.

My back was pressed to the wall of the crawlspace, knees tangled with his as his hands gripped my waist like he couldn’t get close enough.

I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to.

His tongue slid against mine again, slower this time. Dragging out the taste of his peppermint gum. His hands moved to my hips, and I arched into him, chasing the friction.

“Max,” I whispered, breathless.

He groaned against my mouth, the sound vibrating deep inside me.

I reached up, grabbed the hem of my shirt, and tugged it off. I didn’t think. I didn’t care. I wanted more.

I pressed his hand to my breast, dragging his palm across bare skin. His fingers twitched. He tried to pull away.

“Gabby!”

“Shhh,” I murmured, guiding his lips downward, aching to feel his mouth on me.

His lips grazed my skin, hot and trembling, and I moaned, head falling back, eyes fluttering shut.

Crash. Bang. The board behind me ripped away. Splinters flew. Light from the café spilled into the dark crawlspace.

Maximus flipped me over, shielding me from sight. My heart slammed against my ribs.

“What the FUCK?” Shouted Zio Luca from behind Max.

Before I could move, Zio yanked Maximus by the hair, dragging him out of the crawlspace like a rag doll.

“NO, STOP!” I screamed.

I scrambled, still half-naked, trying to cover myself when something soft hit me in the face. Zia Mia’s scarf.

I wrapped it around my chest, fingers shaking, just as I heard Max hit the ground hard.

“You fucking touched my niece?” Luca roared, cocking his arm back again.

“Zio, STOP!” I cried, jumping down from the crawlspace. I was barely covered, barefoot and my entire body trembling. But I didn’t care.

I shoved myself between them. “I did this, okay? I started it! Max tried to stop me, I didn’t let him. I wanted this, Zio.”

Zio froze, his fist hovering inches from Max’s jaw. His chest heaved. Veins bulged at his temples.

“She’s innocent, Capo,” Maximus said, voice thick with shame. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of her.”

Zia Mia stepped forward, calm and commanding as ever, placing a hand on her husband’s shoulder.

“That’s enough, Luca. Your niece isn’t a child anymore. You won’t lay a hand on that boy. Not now. Not ever. Let them get dressed. We have bigger problems, like making sure Mario doesn’t find out.”

Luca’s jaw clenched. He looked at me… then growled at Max.

“Come,” Zia Mia said firmly. “They need a moment.”

Zio huffed, yanked his jacket straight, and followed her out. Slamming the door behind them.

I turned to Maximus, my chest still heaving, scarf barely staying in place. I reached for him, needing to feel his arms around me.

But he stepped back. “No, Gabby. We can’t do this anymore.” His voice was flat. Cold.

“The Capo’s already pissed. And your dad? If he finds out…” He shook his head. “I knew we should have stayed apart until we spoke to your parents.”

He turned, grabbed his shirt.

“Max.”

He didn’t even look at me. Just walked out. And I, I collapsed to the floor. Naked. Humiliated. Crying.

Because he was gone. Because I had ruined everything.

Vincent

We stormed past the police tape not caring who tried to stop us. We practically owned all of them. Half the uniforms here were on our payroll. The others were too scared or too smart to stop us.

Damian didn’t even slow down. He beelined straight for Dad. His eyes wild. Matt peeled off toward a cluster of officers near the side exit, already asking questions, demanding to see the security footage and the witness statements.

I just stood taking it all in, catching a glimpse of Maximus.

He was standing in the corner, like a fucking statue. Bloody lip. Bruised jaw. One eye already swelling shut. But he wasn’t doing a damn thing. Just staring off into the distance. His expression was vacant and useless.

I took a step toward him to ask him what the hell happened, but didn’t get more than a few steps in. Gabriella.

Mario had her by the arm, dragging her out from the back office like some criminal. Her face was blotchy from crying, scarf wrapped tightly around her chest, eyes blank.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Aunty Julia coming in past the police lines. She doesn’t stop, doesn’t even look at anyone, just walks to Gabby and takes her in her arms.

Uncle Mario starts to say something, but Aunty Julia just yells at him to ‘Fuck off’, and walks away with Gabby.

Max finally looks up and I can see the pain in his eyes.

“Aunty Julia.” But I barely got the words out. She didn’t acknowledge me. Didn’t even look up from Gabby. She just kept her arms wrapped around her daughter, shielding her from the world, and from us.

She whispered something only Gabby could hear. Gabby nodded numbly and let herself be led out, like she didn’t have any bones left.

But before they disappeared, I saw it, she passed Maximus. Staring at him with pleading eyes. He just stood there.

Tears were clinging to the corners of her eyes. And he…. He let her walk past like their love didn’t matter.

That was it. I lost it. I marched straight up to him, fury boiling through my veins. “What the fuck happened, Max?”

He didn’t look at me. Not right away. His jaw clenched. His fists stayed at his sides.

“Answer me.” I yelled.

“She wanted it,” he muttered, voice raw, “and I let it happen.”

I grabbed his collar. “What does that even mean?”

Before he could answer, I heard my name. Loud. Commanding. Final.

“Vincent.” Dad’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

I turned, still gripping Max’s shirt, but I let go.

Dad stood near the shattered pastry case, his jacket off, sleeves rolled, shirt stained with something red I prayed wasn’t blood.

Damian and Matt were already heading toward him. So I followed.

My father didn’t waste time. His eyes swept over the three of us, face tight with rage.

“This is now a war,” he growled, voice low and deadly, “It has now entered our home.” He looked around the wreckage; shattered glass, splintered wood, blood smeared on the tile.

“They attacked Gabriella. In our Familia protected café.”

He looked at each of us like we were to blame. Like we hadn’t moved fast enough.

“It’s personal now.”

No one said a word. Because he was right. And we all knew what came next. More blood.