Matteo

Giudice residence, Sicily, IT – February 14th, 2021

I'm sitting at the glass table in the courtyard smoking a cigarette and drinking my morning coffee when Andreea Calo steps outside through the dininng room. I've only been in Sicily for a week but I've already seen him more in the past few days than in the past year.

He's been officially reassigned from his position as bodyguard to 'housekeeper', which now I'm starting to suspect is 'glorified babysitter'. But I'll give it to my father; he doesn't only have me keeping an eye on Luca and making sure he doesn't get out of line, but he also has someone babysitting me. I haven't bothered mentioning it because I know he'll say Calo's a bodyguard.

"This came in the mail for you." He lets it fall in the middle of the table as he takes a seat across from me.

There's dark green wax keeping the envelope of the same color sealed.

"Who is it from?" I ask, motioning to the mid-howl wolf imprinted in the wax.

"It's from the Volkovs."

I think about Aleksander's Volkov funeral from two years ago. Then my mind takes me to how Valentina must've been there but I didn't know her back then. The wax crest breaks as soon as I pull the seal flap.

Two names are handwritten in the middle of the page.

Raisa Volkov and Sergei Pavlov

Oh fuck, it's a wedding invitation.

I pull back my focus to read it the entire invitation.

Vanessa and Kyril Levin request the honor of your presence at the marriage of Raisa Volkov and Sergei Pavlov, on March 6th, 1pm, at Pavlov Palace in Moscow, Russia.

Valentina's parents are Raisa's padrinos and they're inviting me to a wedding? In what universe?

This must've been Raisa's doing, for sure; Raisa who is marrying someone she cheated on. Did I know she had a boyfriend when I fucked her back in September? I suspected. Do I care? Not really, she chose to do it.

I double check to make sure there's no 2022 written anywhere.

"What is it?"

I turn the invitation around with two fingers for Calo to read.

"This year?"

I shrug. "Looks like it. It's in three weeks."

"She couldn't wait to marry Pavlov's kid huh." He laughs to himself.

"Who's Pavlov?"

"One of Kyril's capos who's in charge of laundering the dirty money through casinos. In other words, he's filthy rich."

"Wasn't her father just as filthy rich when he was the second in command?"

"Volkov used to be filthy rich, yes, but he wasn't involved in the legal aspect of things. He handled all of Kyril's dirty work under the table, and he had that reputation. Pavlov's different. He's a smart snake and must have at least double the money Volkov used to have. He's got a good reputation in New York."

"Never heard of him."

He smirks. "You haven't even scratched the surface, Matteo. In a few years you'll look back at this conversation and wish it stayed like this."

His words are unsettling, but the most unnerving part about his words is that I know he's right.

***

The Barone family is the first one to arrive in the evening for Aurora's birthday dinner.

She was pissed when our father told her she couldn't invite the thirty people she had on her list, to which she responded by calling him a hypocrite and a dictator. I distinctively remember because I silently agreed with her.

We raid the wine cellar and Paulo opens the oldest bottle he can find, filling my mother and Diana's glasses first when we return to the kitchen. My mother is in a rarely-seen good mood, talking about her daughter turning nineteen already.

Marco and I exchange looks. We both know she's only this affectionate with Aurora and if she's having a good day, maybe with Marco. Never with me.

It stopped bothering me since before I could remember, and I am just happy that at least my younger siblings get to feel what it's like to have a mother.

The Altieris arrive an hour later with my grandmother, fashionably late as usual but just in time to see the adults already tipsy.

Isabella throws her hands up as soon as she sees me and saunters over to where I'm sitting on the couch.

"Did you see that Raisa is getting married?"

"Yes, you got the invitation too?"

Everything goes quiet all of a sudden and all the heads in the room head turns to me.

"You were invited?" my father asks.

He's by the window smoking cigars with Paulo and Calo, and they must have really boring conversations if he can hear mine from all the way across the room.

"Yes, just got the invitation today."

One good thing about the current situation is that I now know that Calo doesn't report everything to him.

"You're not going." My father firmly says then, as if I had asked for permission.

Not that I wanted to go in the first place, but hearing him order me around like this doesn't sit right with me.

"If I want to, I'll go. I didn't ask for permission."

"No, you will not. You will not step foot in Russia."

Everyone in the room looks uncomfortable, but I'm just angry that he would embarrass me like this in front of everyone.

"Dinner is ready." My mother tries to ease the tension and extends her hand towards the dining room.

The converastion slowly picks up again. Isabella frowns, silently asking what just happened.

"Don't you just love family gatherings?"

I follow her through the archway, all the way to our table.

"We've met every month this year so far, and I fear that might continue into the future."

Vinnie sits down next to me. "There are fifteen people at this table. There's a birthday every month."

"And Easter." Isabella says.

"We need in person courses back." Marco agrees.

"What do you think about Raisa inviting you to her wedding after she cheated on her husband with you?" Isabella changes the subject to what she conisders the most thrilling conversation to have right now.

"Would you have actually gone?" Vinnie incredulously asks before I can even think of an answer for her.

I look at Isabella. "I don't think anything about it because I don't care what she does with her life," then I acknowledge Vinnie "and no, probably not."

"Valentina must be going." Isabella concludes. "Should I feel offended that I wasn't invited?"

I zone out of the debate that ensues after this.

Matteo: Are you going to Raisa's wedding?

The reply comes one minute later.

Valentina: Ofc i am

Valentina: I don't really have a choice do I

Matteo: Funny

Valentina: How so

Matteo: I don't have a choice but not to go

Valentina: Someone telling you what to do? In what world

Matteo: Why don't you want to go

Valentina: Could you imagine sitting through an entire weekend in which you have to cater to Raisa's will?

Matteo: Okay true

She's typing something but then decides against it. I'm about to continue the conversation by asking her how she's been when a new message pops up.

Valentina: I heard you ended it with ariana

Matteo: Yea

I'm not surprised she knows; Isabella probably told her as soon as I announced it in the group chat that same day.

Matteo: Are you happy to know that?

Valentina: Haha

Matteo: Are you

Matteo: ?

Valentina: Maybe

Valentina: A little

My pulse picks up and I smile.

Matteo: Why?

"What are you smiling at?" Isabella asks and leans over to read off my screen.

I pull the phone away from her prying eyes.

Too late.

"Valentina?" she asks in disbelief, and a little too loud at that.

Once again, the table goes quiet. Fuck, Isabella needs to learn how to be more discrete.

"We're talking about the wedding. She's going."

I can see my father shaking his head in disapproval even when he's at the other end of the table.

"Is that the Russian-"grandma Angie starts just as I stand from my chair, grabbing my glass.

"I'm going for a smoke."

"Sensitive subject?" my father pushes in a cold, mocking tone that irks the shit out of me.

Isabella looks shocked at the dynamic, arm over the back of her chair as she looks up at me. "What is going on?"

"I am texting a friend who happens to be Russian, and my father thinks I'm fucking her." I grit out.

"Matteo!" my grandmother exclaims, her face contorting in disappointed shock.

Aurora looks ecstatic at the drama going down, Vinnie and the rest of the guys do not look surprised at all (if anything they look pleased), and the rest of the parents look worried. I can't bare to look at Isabella.

"You should've just had a party in a club, like normal people." I say to my sister as I push my chair back.

"In case you don't remember, our father said no to the idea." She looks at him to prove a point, and I can tell on her face that she's about to lay into him. "No public parties until restrictions are lifted."

"Then you should've had it in your apartment and lie about it like the rest of us."

"And miss out on this family drama?" she fake laughs and raises her glass. "To Italians having sex with Russians!"

"Aurora!" my mother screeches.

Eddie bursts out laughing and Marco follows suit, which is my cue to leave the room.

I escape into the courtyard and walk over to the table I was sitting at this morning.

I don't even get to light my cigarette when the door to the dining room opens, so I whip around, ready to give my father a piece of my mind now that we're away from prying eyes and ears.

It's not him though. It's Paulo. I haven't talk to him one-on-one in a long time, maybe since that day at the restaurant after I became a made man.

He fishes the half-smoked cigar from his pocket and comes to claim the chair across from me that Calo sat in just over to one of the chairs facing the inner garden. "How are you doing?"

"Good."

My phone vibrates in my pocket but I resist the urge to take it.

"That's always the dishonest answer." He points at me. "How are you handling New York?"

My shoulders relax. I know that what he's really asking is how I'm handling life after being sworn in.

"It took some time to get used to the long shifts."

"Cocaine always helps." He says, completely serious and obviously uninhibited because of the alcohol.

I frown. "Are you making a joke right now?"

He laughs. "No."

He takes a long drag of his cigar and we spend the next couple of minutes staring at my mother's Frangipani trees.

"Standing up to your father, not many people have do that." He starts.

Oh, so we're going to go there then. Fine.

"Because they'll get whacked if they do." I say.

This makes Paulo lean in over the table, face stern. "Lorenzo might lead with a dominant iron fist, but he is a fair man."

"Pft." is all that comes out of me. "Fairness is not the reason people don't step out line. There's a difference between being feared and being respected."

"You think people fear him? They admire hi-"

"I can't respect someone who doesn't respect me."

He looks offended that I would even think that. "He does respect you, Matteo."

"He thinks I'm soft. And you know how he feels about weakness."

Paulo smirks in a knowing way. "He thinks everyone who has ever felt an emotion is weak. And he used to be soft once."

"I must've not been born at that time."

Paulo's eyes sadden as he slants back in his chair. "Yeah, you were not."

"So what happened? Was it because my grandfather died?"

He busies himself with drinking from his glass, responding with a tilt of his hand.

"I heard you handled the embezzlement situation back in New York." He slurs out the last two words, but still not drunk enough to not be smart and change the subject.

The legal phrases they use to cover up executions will never fail to amuse me. And Paulo being drunk makes it even funnier.

"I did." I take another sip from my glass as I nod, trying to remain serious.

He nods, closing his eyes. "Good. Good."

"Does Vinnie know?" I ask then, because I've been wondering this for a while. Drug trafficking and even hiding a body is one thing. Killing someone is a different kind of beast.

"Yes."

My body shudders.

"He hasn't said anything."

"Good. It means you don't talk business all the time."

"We never talk business."

His eyes crinkle. "Your father and I used to be like that at the beginning."

He says it like it's a way of life and I get the animalistic urge to hurt him for it.

"Does he know about Sofia?"

The look in his eyes changes as his face falls and his jaw clenches.

"No."

"Were you the one who did it?"

His silence is all I need.

Vinnie's own father killed the girl he thinks is avoiding him. How more fucked up can this get?

"I feel guilt-"

"She called the police because she wanted to get back at him." I interrupt. "She didn't snitch on anything and no one went to prison."

He gives me the same speech my father gave me.

"You didn't have to kill her though." Is my conclusion. "You can't go around taking people out when you can't control them."

He shakes his head, eyes empty save for the trace of remorse in them.

"I didn't do it."

I pull my head back. "Then why do you feel guilty?"

"Not only am I lying to my son, I am also lying to my friend." He pauses. "I helped her flee Sicily." He says then.

"Cazzo, Paulo, I didn't want to know that!"

Although the only emotion I feel right now is relief. Relief at the thought that Sofia isn't dead just because she called the police, and that Vinnie won't have to go through finding out about it. With time, he'll forget about her.

Judging by the look on Paulo's face, it is what he hopes as well.

"What happens if my father finds out?"

He defeatedly shrugs. "I don't know."

"What would he do to someone who's not you?" I counter.

He shrugs and downs his drink, then sets the glass on the table. The cigar between his ring covered fingers has gone out a couple of minutes ago.

"We already talked about this."

He slurs more of his words now, and he looks almost miserable at this point that I nearly feel bad for him. I've always seen him as this buff guy who has a neck tattoo and could crush somebody's skull with his bare hands.

Getting a glimpse of him in this state feels like a revelation. He's slouching in the chair with his head in his hands makes him look weak, helpless as his underboss façade starts to crumble.

I don't say anything because the gravity of his situation speaks for itself.

He eventually comes back to himself, straightening his back and putting his mask back on.

"What about girls?" he asks, and I've been waiting for this question since he arrived in a good mood.

There's been numerous family occasions where alcohol has been involved since I broke up with Allison. And he's never once failed to inquire about my relationship status.

"What about girls?" I reply.

I take a sip of my drink and light another cigarette as he does the same.

"You broke up with the Milanese." He playfully says.

"We were never together."

He nods as he laughs with reminescent eyes. "I'm sure you've had to explain that many time before."

"Yes." I exhale and smile, happy that the tension is gone.

My hair brushes against my eyebrows as I shake my head. "If I'm honest, I thought you were going to give me the speech about how it would've been a profitable marriage."

"Intellect lasts longer than beauty and material possessions."

He takes my glass to drink from it, head wobbling a little as he does so.

"The best thing you can do, if you want to live a good life, is to marry someone because you love them." I've seen Paulo Barone this drunk before, but never this honest. "But you already knew this."

"My parents are not the right example for it."

He opens his mouth but decides against it.

I deflect by checking my phone. There's a message from Valentina waiting that I completely forgot about.

Valentina: Because I didn't like seeing you kiss her

"I'm going to leave you now. I think it's safe to go back."

"Matteo."

Isabella is standing in the doorway, shoulders slumped.

"Yes?"

She has the decency to close the door after loudly talking all night. I don't say anything as she strides over to me, looking like she's going to be the one to do the talking.

"Since when do you casually talk to Valentina? What is going on between you? Are you going to fuck and dump the last true female friend I have?"

I stop her by placing my hands on her arms. "Isabella. I'm not going to fuck and dump her."

"But you want to have sex with her." She states it like a fact.

Which it is.

For fuck's sake, I cannot catch a break today.

"You do. You'd get with that chair if it had a pulse."

My lips pull in a thin line and I let go of her. "You know that's not true."

"Do you like her?"

"Yes. She's my friend."

"No, that's not what I mean. Do you like her, as a friend?"

"I do."

"Then don't fuck her."

My heart races as I ask. "What if I do?"

She angrily exhales through her nose. "What would your dad say?"

"Does it look like he can control me?"

"A little."

"Fuck off."

"Oh come on, I'm the one who's mad here." She points her finger at me but her eyes are soft. "Listen to me. If you like her, fine, I can accept that." She motions to my phone as she continues "But if the thing you're pursuing is the thrill of saying you fucked Valentina and then dump her when you get bored with her, I am not okay with this."

"I would never do that."

"You did it with Ariana."

"That was different."

"Different how?!"

"What I feel for Valentina is not what I felt for Ariana."

"How do you feel about Valentina then?" she continues pushing, and she does this sometimes; she asks me rapid fire questions to get to the bottom of the truth.

"I like her."

She takes a step back. "That's not enough."

"Isabella. I have no intentions with Valentina whatsoever, believe me. I just enjoy, fuck, I just enjoy talking to her. Being with her."

Her mouth opens. "Oh shit, you like her."

"That's what I'm saying. That's all I can say, really. I don't know."

She props her hands on her hips. "Matteo, I swear-"

"I promise you; I won't fuck her and dump her. I don't want anything from her, and I'm not pursuing the thrill of saying I had sex with her." It's the thrill of being in her presence that's enough for me.

"Okay." She squints. Then she perks up. "And she hasn't mentioned anything about it to me yet, so it must not be as bad as I made it in my head."

I don't let the pang in my chest show on my face.

"See? Everything's normal."

She nods towards the dining room. "More or less. Your mother has been filling everyone's glasses."

I let out a laugh. We're okay.

"Come on." She hooks her arm around mine. "It's safe to go back inside. And I promise I'll be more discreet."

---

Next chapter will be up December 28th!

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