All Chapters of Matteo’s obsession : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Russo's povThe whiskey left a burning sensation in my throat and I inhaled softly. Tonight was Sir Bianchi’s birthday and everyone will be at the club.“Don…” came a quiet knock on the door.“Have you retrieved the phone?” I asked without receiving who was behind the door.“Not yet, sir, but I have a development.” The guard said.“Enter.” I said, not taking my eyes off the view of the city.“Good evening, Don,” the guards bowed his heads. I gave him a languid wave of my hand. “Get to the point.”“I did not find Mark's phone but I know who has it.” I instantly knew who he was talking about. “Valentina.”“Yes, sir. But that's not all.”“There's more?”“Yes, sir. Apparently, one of Mark's associates has his eyes on the phone and contacts Mark for it. I managed to apprehend him and had him make an arrangement for the phone. Tonight at the club by 8.”“Valentina will be here with the phone in person?”“Yes, sir.”I thought hard for a second. I don't want Valentina to be involved in my w

Valentina's povI didn't cower or move my face from his.My chest heaved with strong feelings of anger and pain from seeing my boyfriend being shot to death, despite the terrible things he had done.We stared at each other for what seemed like minutes, and Don Russo did not look like he would be giving up anytime soon.I clenched my chin as his words repeated in my head. “Death? Or a life of hell with me?”I wanted neither! I wanted to get the hell away from here and return to my mother.“I need a glass of whiskey,” I managed to say through my parched throat.He seemed taken aback by my response but he eventually straightened up, eyes still fixed on me, and then gestured to one of the guards with his fingers to get what I asked for.“Now can you let go of my arm,” I said to the guards still holding me down and watched as they all looked to Don Russo for his permission.“Take her away from here,” he finally turned away from me. “And clean up this mess.”The guards pulled me up and led

Valentina's povThere was something degrading in the way I stood naked before him, even though I still had my panties on. It all seemed too raw, too intimate, and his filthy words made me press my thighs together to ease the emotion building up down there.I had no problem stripping for a bunch of sex-hungry rich men down at the club but I wasn't used to performing shows for just one viewer and it seemed wrong, to the very last letter.My breasts suddenly jiggled, unintentionally I must add. And he stared at them, hard, as though there was a movie playing somewhere in the valley between my breasts.I was only trying to free myself from the knot he had tied at my ankles and my entire body seemed to respond even to the slightest movement. I felt ashamed to stand that way before him. But with the way his eyes dragged lazily down my body, I could tell he liked what he saw, and it gave me a slight confidence boost.I could feel the cold blunt edge of the pen knife sliding up my right arm

Russo POVThe silence in my office was quite suffocating, the only sound I could hear was the ticking of the wall clock on the far right of the room. It's surprising that I have never paid attention to that sound from the clock before, I guess it needs a pin drop silence to be heard.I sat at my desk, placing my hands beneath my chin. I stared at the glass of whiskey on the table before me. I poured that whiskey a while ago but I have not had the stomach to take it yet. I leaned my head to the right taking a closer look at the glass, I could see flashes of the chandelier lights above through the liquid.Don Bianchi’s assassination was more than just a loss, it was an insult to me and my world, not that any man can't die.Don Bianchi wasn't just any man he was a beacon to admire in the mafia world and also a close ally, the audacity at which the assassination was carried out, at a very secure place, was challenging my authority also, it makes me look weak. Whoever orchestrated it did

Russo’s POVThe kind of smoke in the room was choking, one that annoyingly stuck to clothes and was bad for the lungs. There was a light murmuring of voices accompanied by sounds of clinking glasses which echoed off the walls. I straightened my spine leaning back in my chair, feeling the smoothness of the leather, I scanned the faces of the men gathered around the long table. Each one of them was a don in his own right, a ruler and protector of his territory. Suspicion was obvious on each of their faces.The assassination of Don Bianchi had sent shockwaves through our world, we were all gathered to discuss the way forward, the aftermath. I looked at my glass of vodka on the table untouched, the ice was melting slowly. I was running out of patience, but this meeting was too necessary. If I have learned anything in this business, it is that silence and observation could be as effective as violence. We started the conversation with the usual meaningless pleasantries and condolences