Romeo turns out to be quite a smart boy who just gets distracted very easily. It only takes him two or even one explanation to understand the rules, which helps him a lot. But every time I murmur something about the recipe or Dolce comes to ask for pets, Romeo immediately abandons everything to focus on something new. So I remind him, again and again, to come back to studying, and we spend the rest of the day like that until Romeo is done with his homework and I’m done with the pork loin and mashed potatoes.
“It smells so good!” Romeo is all but salivating, watching the dishes I place in front of him before looking up at me. “Are we gonna have dinner together?”
“Oh, no, I have to go,” I say with an apologetic grimace, and Romeo pouts.
“But you’re gonna be back, aren’t you?”
“Of course! I’ll help your dad put you to bed.” I give him a smile, but Romeo turns away, digging into his plate with much less enthusiasm. “Where is he, by the way? It’s time for dinner.”
I place my hands on my hips and look around as if expecting Matteo to show up out of nowhere. Not that I care about his nutrition, but I don’t want Romeo to think that I intentionally left him out. He showed up at the kitchen only once since we arrived, and even then he seemed to be so deep in his thoughts that he barely even noticed our presence.
“He’s probably busy with work.” Romeo shrugs, still swirling his fork through the potatoes. “He doesn’t like to be distracted.”
Yeah, that much I’ve noticed.
“Well, I’m going to ask him anyway.” I drop the kitchen towel on the table and turn to Romeo with a pointed look. “And you, my dear, stop playing with the food and start eating. It’s potato, not Play-Doh, I promise.”
He mumbles something in response, but I don’t even try to figure out what he’s saying and walk to the stairs. The weight of the day starts bearing on my shoulders, and as soon as I’m out of Romeo’s sight and hearing, I let out a deep sigh and allow my smile to disappear. God, it’s been one hell of a day, and it’s not even over yet. I forgot how draining this work can be-but I can’t let myself slip. I gotta keep going so Matteo doesn’t figure me out.
So I take a new breath and step onto the second floor, focusing on the door of his office. I wonder if I should try and listen to him again. No, better not risk it and just-
“Oh, careful!”
“Sorry.”
As soon as I reach the door, it suddenly opens right in front of me and Matteo walks out in a hurry and almost bumps into me. Goddamnit! It startles me, and I instinctively step back, trying to grasp what just happened. Matteo stands before me with his eyes tired and his hair in disarray, looking like a perfect example of a single man working from home.
“Oh, Liss, yes, I was looking for you…wait, what are you doing here?”
Shit. Is he suspecting me of something?
But Matteo frowns, trying to focus on me, and I can see in his eyes that his mind is still on his work. “Is everything alright?
“Yes, everything’s great. Romeo is downstairs, having dinner.” I gesture at the stairs before turning to look up at Matteo. Damn, he’s tall.
“We’ve already finished homework, so I told him he can play games if you let him.”
“Sure, sure.”
“Also, I prepared enough for both of you, so if you’re hungry you can join him.” God, how annoying it is to be so polite all the time! But I bite back my bitterness and keep smiling, clutching my hands behind my back. “It looked like Romeo wouldn’t mind company.”
“Oh, of course. Thank you.” Matteo frowns harder, processing my words, and rubs his face before looking me in the eyes. “Yes, uh, I mean it. I was too busy with work to talk to you earlier, but really, thank you for your help.”
Just look at how thoughtful we are, huh.
“It’s nothing.” I force my smile a little wider and wave a hand. “I’m just doing my job.”
“Well, you did much more than I expected.” Matteo smiles a little and looks around, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’d be happy to share dinner with you if you are-”
“Oh, no, I can’t.”
He blinks in confusion when I cut him off, and god, why does it look so cute?
“Thanks for your offer, Matteo, but I have plans for the night.
Remember, I told you about it?” I force myself to look away from him and glance down the hallway, trying not to look too impatient. “I really have to go.”
“Ah, sure. Of course.” He nods, frowning at himself, and reaches for his phone. “It’s already seven, isn’t it? I don’t want to keep you for longer.”
Thank god for that.
I go down to grab my bag and bid goodbye to Romeo, who runs out of the dining room to wave a hand at me. Matteo lingers by his side as well, and I would be touched by such a sweet scene if it wasn’t for the memories of my brother resurfacing in my mind. All of a sudden, I can’t look at Matteo without a pinch of anger in my chest, so I hurry out of the house with a quick goodbye before my thoughts find a reflection in my eyes.
God, I hate this. I hate that Matteo is standing right in front of me, safe and happy, while my brother-
No. I shake my head and turn on the engine, taking off with more speed than usual. I can’t let myself dive deep into these thoughts, I
shouldn’t get distracted. Right now, I have to focus on the present-and especially on the road leading back to my apartment building.
I take the fastest route, avoiding the endless traffic of Chicago’s downtown, and get home in less than twenty minutes. I drive into the basement parking lot, but instead of going up to my apartment I grab another car key from the inner pocket of my bag. My second car is waiting for me in the nearby parking spot, and I quickly climb inside and pull an old hoodie and sunglasses on. Okay, now it’s time to start the game.
I get out of the garage and take the already familiar route to Burnham Park. I don’t know why Giovanni likes it so much, but he knows the specifics of the Mafia world better than me, so I don’t question him. I arrive at the park a few minutes too late. Cursing under my breath, I grab my phone and barely keep myself from running out of the car. I should be as inconspicuous as possible, but the urge to hurry is too strong.
Goddamnit, where is he? I walk through the park, forcing myself to look casual and ignore the tight feeling in my stomach. Every time I show up here I can feel the weight of my plan that much clearer-but it’s the only thing that can soothe my desire for revenge.
Finally, a few minutes later, I catch sight of a lonely man with Italian features and a relaxed posture sitting on one of the benches, and it punches a breath of relief out of me. So Giovanni is still here.
God, isn’t that a weird name for someone working with the Mexicans to take down the most powerful Italian family in Chicago? I think about it sometimes, but well, it’s none of my business. As long as he keeps me in touch with the Mexicans and provides me with what I want, I don’t care who he is or what his motives are.
Without rushing or looking around too much, I straighten my shoulders and walk to the bench, taking a seat on the opposite side of
Giovanni. He doesn’t even look at me, but I hear him clearing his throat and fidgeting to check our surroundings.
“You’re late,” he says quietly, only for me to hear it. Thankfully, I don’t hear any frustration in his voice, but I know well how skilled Mafia members are at hiding their true emotions.
“Romeo kept me busy. I didn’t want to show them I was in a hurry.”
Giovanni hums, and I can’t read any reaction in the sound. “How was the first day?”
I clear my throat and pretend to check my face in the reflection on my phone, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “They both seem to like me. It won’t be long until I put our plan into action. Do you have what I need?”
“Do you have what I need?” Giovanni says back with a low note in his voice, reminding me about my place, and I purse my lips. Okay, okay,
god, no need to get so agitated.
I unlock my phone and, with a few taps, connect to his phone to send the report. It’s not big-today is only the first day, after all-but it’s more than he has anyway. Giovanni scrolls through his phone for a few seconds, and I hear a satisfied hum.
“Good,” he murmurs, hiding his phone back in the inner pocket, and when I glance at him I see that he’s taken something else out instead.
It must be what I was looking for, and my heart immediately tightens with a rush of nervousness and excitement. Giovanni holds out a tiny medicine bottle with colorless liquid inside. Ethylene glycol. A perfect substance for poisoning a clueless man who, by his own will, let me into his home.
“Pour it into his cup,” Giovanni instructs me in a quiet voice, keeping his eye on our surroundings while taking my hand to put the bottle in without anyone seeing what’s in my grip. “Don’t waste time. Don’t hesitate. Get it over with sooner rather than later, understand?”
As soon as I squeeze the bottle in my palm, images of Matteo flash in my mind. Meeting me at the doorstep of his house this morning, laughing with Romeo at breakfast, holding the door for me when I was carrying the bags into my bedroom. I can’t stop my heart from beating faster in response to these thoughts-but I can ignore them and focus on the only thing that truly matters.
“I won’t,” I mutter under my breath and hide the bottle in my jacket. “I’ll do anything to make him pay for what he’s done to my brother.”