Page 66 of Vicious Intentions
“I’m glad that I could be of service,” he says, then clasps his other hand over mine. “It will come to you, Matteo. Your vision to restore theCosa Nostrato its former glory will come to fruition. Despite the adversities you’ve faced, you’ve risen above them all. Look at you now. You will rise again and be the leader we need. Of that, I have no doubt.”
Don Moretti’s belief in me, above all else, leaves me a little flustered, unsure of how to react.
“Carlo really did a fucking number on you, son, for you not to be able to take a compliment at face value.” Moretti frowns.
I clear my throat and say my goodbyes to Don Vitale instead of discussing all the ways my father has ruined me with Moretti. If I start listing them all to him, we’ll be here all night.
When I walk out of the swanky Tribeca building, I spot Rocco across the street, still laughing his ass off at Niccolò. I jaywalk to the other side and find Rocco in tears while Niccolò looks like he’s about to murder him.
“I hope that meeting was worth it,” Niccolò groans through bared teeth.
“Oh, God, you should have seen your face!” Rocco continues to laugh as he wipes tears from his eyes. “You looked like you were about to keel over and die when the Old Fox suggested you marry one of his daughters.”
“You wouldn’t be laughing so much if he looked at you as a good candidate for a son-in-law,” I say, trying to come to Niccolò’s defense.
“Hey, I don’t need Don Vitale’s daughters when I’ve got a real woman at home.”
I smirk at his statement, since I’m pretty sure I know who he is referring to.
“Does Pietra know you’re calling her your woman?” Rocco instantly pales, his laughter falling victim to sudden death on his lips. “I didn’t think so,” I say, smirking. “Pietra isn’t the kind of woman to fall head over heels for just a pretty face, Rocco. You might convince her to your bed, but marriage is a whole different story.”
“Who said anything about marriage?” He chokes out the word.
“Those fuckers right there!” Niccolò blurts out, pointing back at the apartment building we just left. “Can we go, please? I need to hit something.”
“Hit him,” I tilt my head toward Rocco. “It’ll make you feel better.”
“Har har. Fucking har,” Rocco mutters. “So glad you’re back to your old self, Matteo. I missed you.Not.” He grumbles as he eyes the street before crossing back toward his father’s penthouse apartment. Niccolò and I are about to get into the car when we hear Rocco shout after us. “If it helps, I hear the Vitale girls are hot! Just saying,” he calls, with a goading shrug.
“Remind me why we’re friends with him again?” I ask, but Niccolò doesn’t see the humor in it.
“Let’s just go,” he says, cursing under his breath and slamming the car door behind him. Knowing Niccolò needs a minute to himself, I don’t say anything to add to his already volatile state. “He’s right, you know,” he utters halfway through our ride home.
“Who is? And about what, exactly?”
“Rocco. An arranged marriage to one of Vitale’s daughters could be beneficial to us.”
“How so? I don’t see it,” I retort, bored, pretending to fix my cufflinks.
Niccolò arches a brow at me, calling me on my shit.
“Thefamigliasare more inclined to follow a married Don. You and I both know that.” My frown is immediate.
Niccolò is not wrong, but I have more pressing concerns than finding a wife. If push comes to shove, I’ll let Vitale make the match. I have no real use for a wife, but if it helps me get what I want, then so be it. Sacrifices have to be made, and I’ve made more than my share already. But then again, what’s one more to add to the list?
“I’ll give it some thought.”
Niccolò nods and doesn’t bring the topic up again.
As I recall what we discussed in the meeting, my mind begins to drift from one brother to the other.
“Where is Rafe tonight?”
“At the safe house.”
This time, my frown turns into a scowl.
“And who put him there?”
