MILLIE
Mathias shifted his attention towards me, his body angling in my direction. Our gazes locked, and though I tried to veil my fear, his perceptive eyes seemed to unravel every layer of pretense. His expression was inscrutable, a testament to his mastery of concealing emotions. Could I hope for mercy, perhaps even a shred of compassion? I was well aware of the answer. Mathias, much like Gio, wielded authority over the sprawling network of the Outfit.
“I’ll signal the waiter and settle the bill,” he declared, his voice devoid of sentiment. “We’ll rise together. You’ll walk beside me, and we’ll make our way to my car. You will get in.” His words held a stark warning, a promise of consequences for defiance.
Swallowing hard, I managed a nod, my agency reduced to a mere formality. It wasn’t as if I possessed any genuine choices in this situation. Summoning a fragile smile, I offered gratitude as the waiter approached. The transaction was concluded, and Mathias rose to his feet, retrieving my coat from its resting place. He extended it toward me, his demeanor polite, his eyes, however, telling a different tale.
Standing, I allowed him to assist me with my coat, his touch sending a shiver coursing through me. My tremors escalated as he leaned in, his breath grazing my ear as he issued a quiet warning. “Don’t even consider an escape or anything reckless, Millie. I wouldn’t relish the idea of causing you harm.”
Another jerky nod was all I could muster as he released his grip on my shoulders, replacing it with a firm grasp of my hand. Together, we exited the restaurant, his watchful gaze scanning the surroundings. My pulse raced as I settled into the passenger seat of his Mercedes. The door clicked shut, and I drew in a shaky breath, attempting to quell the storm of panic that threatened to consume me.
Mathias assumed his position behind the steering wheel, merging the car into traffic. His focus was on the road, yet I knew he remained acutely aware of my every movement.
“You’re alone,” he stated, his tone carrying a matter-of-fact certainty.
“Yes,” I replied, the word hanging heavy in the air.
“Your decision to come back to Chicago was unwise,” he asserted, glancing at the rearview mirror with a vigilance that echoed my concerns. Perhaps he was right; maybe Gio’s caution had been justified. My actions had been impulsive, fueled by my need to safeguard my siblings.
The world outside blurred as we navigated through the city’s streets. War was on the horizon, an ominous reality that loomed over us. And here I was, the wife of the Capo, ensnared by the very organization that rivaled our own.
Amidst the turmoil, I attempted to rein in my anxiety. Chicago was my home once. Mathias had known me for a lifetime.
He wasn’t infamous for harming women, yet the prospect of being used as a bargaining chip sent waves of nausea crashing over me. I fought to maintain control, swallowing down the rising panic, a feat of willpower.
Mathias’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel as he spoke, his voice cutting through the tension. “You shouldn’t have returned. Not without considering the consequences.” His eyes flitted to the rearview mirror again, a gesture betraying his unease. It seemed his intuition was justified the possibility of pursuit hung in the air, a grim reminder of our reality.
Eventually, after a tense drive, Mathias veered the car off the road, jolting me from my thoughts, and abruptly slammed on the brakes. We found ourselves in a desolate area, near a set of train tracks. The silence hung heavily in the air, pregnant with unspoken tension. I shut my eyes briefly, my heart pounding audibly in my chest. It was a place that seemed like a backdrop for the worst kind of nightmare, a place where desperate cries could vanish without a trace a place where secrets and bodies could easily be concealed.
My grip on my knees tightened as my mind flashed back to the weapon hidden in my bag, a knife I had acquired just earlier that day. The bag rested innocuously at my feet in the cramped space. Yet, the path to it required me to lean down and unzip the purse. The stark reality hit me: if I dared to grab that knife and confront Mathias, it would take nothing short of a miracle to emerge from this car alive.
Reluctantly, I opened my eyes, stealing a glance at my bag. Years of self-defense training with Gio flashed through my memory. Against an inexperienced assailant, I might have had a fighting chance, but Mathias was a different breed the Boss. He could extinguish a life without flinching.
And then, as if to confirm my fears, Mathias leaned over me, a towering, imposing figure. His arm grazed my thigh, and I involuntarily recoiled, my head meeting the cold windowpane with an unintentional thud. “No,” the word escaped my lips in a trembling gasp.
His intense blue eyes locked onto mine, a hint of understanding softening their harshness. Still, he lingered, too close for comfort, as if awaiting something. Finally, he straightened, my purse in his grip. He had retrieved it from between my legs, a fact that sent a shiver down my spine. I hastily wiped away a stray tear, hoping my emotional turmoil wasn’t endangering a potential life within me. What had I risked? What had I done?
Mathias unzipped my bag, extracting the knife with calculated ease before securing it in a side compartment. He returned the bag to its spot in the legroom.
I remained pressed against the window, my heart racing in a turbulent rhythm.
“Millie,” Mathias’s voice was firm, drawing my gaze back to his eyes. Though not exactly gentle, they had shed some of their earlier menace. “You are Gio’s wife. No conflict alters that reality. And even if circumstances were different, you need not fear me or anyone else in Chicago. I give you my word.”
“Thank you, Mathias,” I whispered, my embarrassment mounting at my own reaction.
“No need for gratitude for respecting your autonomy,” he replied evenly.
My curiosity mingled with apprehension. “What are your intentions then?”
He regarded me with a detachment that sent a chill down my spine. “That, my dear, is the question. One option would involve using you as a pawn to exert pressure on Gio and the Famiglia.”
A shiver ran through me.
“Alternatively, you could serve as valuable leverage to blackmail him.”
The very scenario I dreaded. “Gio is the Capo. He wouldn’t jeopardize the Famiglia.”
Mathias’s smile was tinged with a cold edge. “Ah, but you, my dear, are more than just a pawn. I’ve observed the way he looks at you. There’s only one thing that could make Gio risk his coveted position and that’s you.”
The weight of the situation pressed upon me. If my existence led to Gio’s downfall or the erosion of his men’s loyalty, it would be unforgivable.
“I believe you’re giving me more credit than I deserve. The Famiglia will always come first for Gio.”
Mathias tilted his head, assessing me like an asset on a balance sheet. “I think you’re underestimating your value, perhaps for good reason.”
“No, I’m not. Gio won’t jeopardize the Famiglia’s stability. You don’t know him as well as I do.”
A subtle shift crossed his expression. “And therein lies the predicament. If Gio were to defy our demands, I’d have to find a way to sway him.”
“By hurting me,” I said quietly.
He nodded, a shadow of reluctance in his eyes. “By causing you pain. It’s not a role I relish, especially when it concerns women.” He paused briefly, as if battling his own reservations. “However, my loyalty lies with the Outfit.”
“There’s still Sebastian and the rest of the Famiglia. Gio has to consider their wishes.”
Mathias’s smile held a calculated nuance. “Gio has a knack for bending people’s perspectives to his will. He’s a formidable Capo, admired by his men. But they remain unaware of his vulnerabilities.”
And, as my heart clenched, I came to realize that I was his vulnerability.