Page 33 of Betrayal of the Mafia Rebel
"You brought a Bellanti into my kitchen," Matteo says. His voice is dangerously soft.
Fabio doesn't stop walking. He pulls me directly into the center of the room, standing right in front of his older brother. He uses his frame to block Matteo's direct line of sight to my chest, keeping me slightly behind his shoulder.
"I brought my woman into our family's house," Fabio corrects him. The volume is low, but the threat is deafening. "She gave us the dock intel. The terminal was hot. She is the reason we knew about the shipments."
“We are actively at war, Fabio. She is a liability." Matteo stares at Fabio. "Her family just assaulted our walls. Sealed intel got out from inside. We're actively in siege, Fabio. She's a liability."
"She's mine."
Matteo's jaw clenches. He looks at Dante, who stands silently by the door. Dante simply crosses his arms and leans against the wall, refusing to intervene. He accepted the claim back in the SUV.
Matteo looks back at Fabio. The two massive men stare each other down. The tension in the kitchen is a physical weight, pressing against my eardrums. Decades of grief, rage, and brotherhood hang in the balance.
I step out from behind Fabio's shoulder.
Fabio immediately tries to push me back, but I stand my ground. I refuse to hide behind him. If I'm going to live inside these walls, I won't do it as a cowering prisoner.
I meet Matteo's cold stare.
"My family put a tracker in my bag and a fake broadcast on your network to get me killed," I say clearly, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. "My bloodline wants me dead just as much as they want you dead."
Matteo doesn't blink. He absorbs the information, every line of him recalculating.
"She is an asset," Matteo finally says, turning his gaze back to Fabio. "We put her in a secure room. We debrief her. We extract every piece of intel she has on their infrastructure."
"No," Fabio says.
Matteo frowns. "What do you mean, no? She knows their security protocols."
"I mean no." Fabio steps forward, closing the distance. He towers over the steel island. "She's not an asset. She's not a prisoner. She's not a piece on your strategy table, Matteo. She's done bleeding for her last name. She's done surviving alone."
Fabio reaches back, his hand wrapping around my wrist. He pulls me forward, tucking me firmly against his side again.
"She goes upstairs with me," Fabio dictates. "She stays with me. You don't debrief her. You don't interrogate her. If she wants to give you intel, she'll give it to you. But nobody forces her to do a damn thing. Are we clear?"
Matteo stares at his younger brother. He searches Fabio's face, looking for any sign of hesitation.
He finds none. Whatever Matteo is reading off Fabio, it leaves no room to argue.
Matteo slowly exhales. The rigid tension leaves his shoulders. He picks his radio back up from the counter.
"Clear," Matteo says quietly. He looks at me, offering a single, respectful nod. "Welcome to the compound, Catalina."
The relief hits me so hard my legs give out under me.
Fabio catches me instantly. His arms sweep under my knees and behind my back, lifting me off the ground before I can even hit it.
I gasp, grabbing onto his wide shoulders.
"I can walk," I protest weakly.
"You're freezing and exhausted," Fabio grunts, adjusting my weight against his chest like I weigh nothing at all. "You're done walking for the night."
He turns away from Matteo and carries me out of the kitchen.
We move through the limestone mansion. The architecture is stunning. Vaulted ceilings. Wood paneling. Antique rugs over hardwood floors. It smells of old money and lemon polish, with a thread of gun oil under it all.
We pass guards in the hallways. They all avert their eyes. Word travels fast in a compound this size.
