Chapter 11 - THE ARCHITECT
I found Matteo in the library later that afternoon.
The room smelled of old paper, leather, and woodsmoke from the massive fireplace.
He was sitting at a large mahogany drafting table in the corner, not his usual executive desk.
He had his sleeves rolled up, revealing strong forearms.
He was sketching.
I stood in the doorway, hesitant to interrupt.
He didn't look up, but he spoke.
“The charcoal is messy, but it clears my head.”
I stepped into the room.
“Grace said you used to study architecture.”
Matteo paused, the charcoal hovering over the heavy paper.
He finally looked up.
His dark eyes were tired, but the severe, icy edge of the mafia boss was gone.
“A long time ago,” he said.
He gestured to a leather chair near the fire.
“Sit with me, Emily.”
I sat down.
The fire crackled, casting warm light across the dark room.
Matteo wiped his hands on a cloth and walked over, sitting in the chair opposite mine.
“How is Sam?” he asked.
“Packing,” I said. “He’s confused, but he’s happy.”
“I've arranged an apartment for you both on the estate grounds. The carriage house. It’s quiet. Close enough to the main house for you to see Leo every day, but private enough that you won't be bothered by our... business.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
I looked at my hands.
“Matteo, I don't know how to repay you for this.”
Matteo leaned forward.
He rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together.
“You don't repay me, Emily. You saved my brother’s legacy. You saved the only innocent thing left in this family.”
He looked at the fire.
“I was going to marry Sloane because I thought it would stabilize the family. I didn't love her. I didn't trust her. But in our world, marriages are often just treaties.”
He turned his gaze back to me.
It was so intense it made my breath hitch.
“I spent ten months walking past you in the hallways. I saw you carry laundry. I saw you help my grandmother when no one else was looking. I saw you be invisible.”
He reached out and gently touched the back of my hand.
His fingers were rough from the charcoal, but incredibly warm.
“You aren't invisible anymore, Emily.”
My heart hammered against my ribs.
“I’m just a girl from Chicago trying to take care of my brother.”
“And I am just a man trying to keep his family alive,” Matteo said softly.
He traced a line across my knuckles.
“Antonio is back. He’s taking over the family businesses. He wants it. He knows how to navigate the Outfit.”
I stared at him, realizing what he was saying.
“You're stepping down?”
Matteo nodded.
A weight seemed to physically lift from his shoulders.
“I don't have to be the boss anymore.”
He looked toward the drafting table.
“I can build things again. Instead of breaking them.”
He looked back at me, his eyes searching my face.
“If I start building something new... I want to know if you'd want to see it.”
It wasn't a proposal.
It wasn't a sudden, melodramatic confession of love.
It was an invitation.
A quiet, genuine question from a man who had finally put down his armor.
I looked at his hand resting over mine.
I turned my palm up and interlaced my fingers with his.
“I’d like that,” I said softly.
Matteo smiled.
May you like
A real, devastatingly handsome smile.
“Good.”
