Chapter 6 - WHAT MATTEO STOLE WAS NEVER MONEY
Luca did not threaten us.
That would've been easier.
He sent flowers.
To Ilvento.
White lilies.
The card read:
HISTORY IS MOST BEAUTIFUL WHEN LEFT UNEDITED.
I threw them away.
Richard retrieved them from the trash because they were expensive.
I threw them away again.
Gabriel increased security around me.
I objected.
We compromised on one plainclothes guard who stayed far enough away that I could pretend not to see him.
My contract rate paid the first half of my medical debt within two weeks.
The bills were mine.
A surgery from the previous year.
Emergency abdominal procedure.
Insurance had covered less than expected.
I'd spent months working double shifts because debt collectors are somehow more terrifying than mafia families.
Salvatore found this absurd.
“You almost died?”
“No.”
“You required surgery.”
“Yes.”
“And returned to carrying plates?”
“People enjoy eating.”
He stared.
“America is insane.”
“Your family owns three insurance companies.”
“Gabriel owns pieces.”
Gabriel sighed.
“Please don't involve me.”
For the first time, working with the Rossis began feeling almost normal.
Then Luca requested a meeting.
Not with Salvatore.
With me.
Gabriel said no.
I said yes.
We met at Ilvento during lunch service.
Public.
Cameras.
People.
Luca sat across from me.
“You're brave.”
“No.”
I took water.
“I'm working.”
He smiled.
“You think my father was evil?”
“Enzo?”
“Yes.”
“I never met him.”
“Salvatore will tell you he betrayed the family.”
“Matteo did too.”
Luca's expression tightened slightly.
There.
“Matteo hated him.”
“Matteo documented him.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
I leaned forward.
“One is emotion. The other has dates.”
Luca laughed.
“I understand why Gabriel likes you.”
My face stayed neutral.
“He doesn't.”
“Of course.”
Luca stirred his coffee.
“Do you know what Matteo stole?”
“Apparently not money.”
“No.”
Luca smiled.
“Legitimacy.”
I frowned.
“My father believed the Rossi organization needed to evolve.”
That surprised me.
“He wanted politicians.”
“Businesses.”
“Respectability.”
Luca nodded.
“He understood that power hidden in restaurants and docks had limits.”
I looked at him.
“And you continued his work.”
“Yes.”
No shame.
“Judges?”
“Influence is not always bribery.”
“That sounded rehearsed.”
“It should.”
He smiled.
“Matteo saw corruption because he was sentimental.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“He saw numbers.”
Luca's smile faded.
I continued.
“That's the problem with people like him.”
“What?”
“They don't care whether the story sounds beautiful if the arithmetic is ugly.”
Luca looked at me for a long time.
Then:
“Give me the notebook.”
“No.”
“I'll pay every bill you have.”
“No.”
“Five hundred thousand.”
“No.”
“Enough to never carry a tray again.”
I smiled.
“I like carrying trays.”
That was partly a lie.
My feet hated trays.
But freedom mattered.
Luca leaned closer.
“Gabriel will use you until he's finished.”
“Maybe.”
“And Salvatore?”
“Already tried buying me.”
“He does that.”
“I charged him hourly instead.”
For the first time, Luca genuinely laughed.
Then his expression became cold.
“If the evidence goes outside the family, people will go to prison.”
“Yes.”
“Businesses will collapse.”
“Maybe.”
“Employees lose jobs.”
“That matters.”
“Then stop.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you're describing consequences as though the person revealing the truth created them.”
His jaw tightened.
“Matteo taught you too much.”
“Probably.”
Luca stood.
Before leaving, he said:
“Ask Gabriel why he really comes to Ilvento every Thursday.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“He didn't choose that booth because of the wall.”
Then he left.
I hated people who ended conversations like television villains.
That evening, Gabriel arrived.
Thursday.
Eight.
Same booth.
I stood beside him with black coffee.
“Why Thursday?”
He looked up.
“What?”
“Why did you start coming here?”
His expression changed.
Barely.
But enough.
“Food.”
“Liar.”
“Tessa.”
“Luca said—”
Gabriel's face hardened.
“Never use Luca as a reliable source.”
“Then explain.”
Silence.
I waited.
Finally:
“Matteo told me about you.”
My stomach dropped.
“When?”
“A year ago.”
I stared.
“You knew who I was?”
“Not at first.”
“He described a waitress.”
“Where?”
“Here.”
My fingers tightened around the coffee pot.
“He said there was a girl at Ilvento who listened when old people spoke.”
My throat tightened.
Gabriel continued.
“He didn't give me your name.”
“So you started coming every Thursday.”
“Yes.”
“To find me?”
“To observe.”
I laughed bitterly.
“All of you love observing me without asking permission.”
“I know.”
“Did you recognize me?”
“Eventually.”
“When?”
“Six weeks before my father came.”
My anger sharpened.
“And you said nothing.”
“I didn't know what Matteo had told you.”
“So you watched.”
“Yes.”
The dried blood.
The exact tips.
The silence.
Everything rearranged.
“Why two hundred dollars?”
Gabriel looked genuinely confused.
“Because the service is good.”
Despite myself, I laughed.
Then stopped.
“You should've told me.”
“Yes.”
“I hate when you agree.”
“I've noticed.”
“Did Matteo tell you why he chose me?”
Gabriel looked toward the dining room.
“Yes.”
My heartbeat changed.
“Why?”
“He said you never treated him like a story.”
I stared.
Gabriel continued.
“You carried his groceries.”
“Argued with him.”
“He mentioned that.”
“I burned his peppers once.”
“He mentioned that repeatedly.”
I smiled.
Then Gabriel's expression softened.
“He said you listened when he spoke about Sicily without turning it into romance.”
My eyes filled.
“He said when people got old, everyone either ignored them or turned their past into entertainment.”
I looked away.
“He trusted you because you let him remain complicated.”
That was Matteo.
Exactly.
Gabriel looked at me.
“He wanted you involved because you were outside us.”
I nodded slowly.
Then:
“And you?”
“What?”
“Why did you keep coming after you found me?”
Gabriel held my gaze.
The answer took too long.
Interesting.
Finally:
“At first, Matteo.”
“And later?”
His voice became quieter.
“You.”
My pulse shifted.
I picked up the coffee pot.
“You need more caffeine.”
May you like
He almost smiled.
And for the first time, Luca's warning frightened me for a completely different reason.
