Chapter 5 - THE THORNED ROSE
Matteo marched up the grand staircase, his heavy boots echoing like thunder. He didn't even glance at Bianca as he stepped directly between us, placing his large frame in front of me and Leo.
"Who authorized your entrance into my home?" Matteo demanded, his voice dropping into that terrifying, low register that made everyone in the room hold their breath.
"Matteo, darling," Bianca said, shifting her expression into a smooth, practiced smile. "I came to discuss our engagement dinner next month. My father said—"
"Our engagement is void," Matteo cut her off sharply.
Bianca’s smile shattered instantly. "What?"
"Your father’s men opened fire on a public restaurant in Manhattan last night," Matteo stated coldly, taking a step toward her, forcing her to back down a stair. "They endangered my son. The treaty is broken. The Moretti family is now an active enemy of the D’Angelo syndicate."
"That was a rogue faction!" Bianca lied desperately, her voice rising in panic. "My father had nothing to do with that attack!"
"Your father provided the weapons," Matteo countered, pulling a black leather ledger from his jacket and tossing it at her feet. "We seized your family's warehouse at the docks two hours ago. I have the manifests, Bianca. I have the signatures."
Bianca stared at the ledger on the floor, her polished facade completely crumbling.
"Get out of my house," Matteo ordered, his dark eyes dead and unyielding. "If you or any member of your family sets foot on my property again, I will return you to your father in a box."
Bianca looked from Matteo to me, her eyes burning with a terrifying, unhinged hatred that sent a cold shiver straight down my spine.
"You're making a fatal mistake, Matteo," Bianca whispered, her voice laced with venom. "You chose a dead woman's ghost over my family. You've signed your own death warrant. And hers."
She turned on her heel, her red suit a blur of blood-colored silk as she stormed down the staircase and out the grand doors.
Silence fell over the foyer.
Matteo let out a long, heavy breath, running a hand over his face. He turned back to me, his gaze softening instantly as he looked at Leo, who was staring up at his father with big, curious eyes.
"Are you all right?" Matteo asked me gently.
"I'm fine," I said softly. "But... Matteo, she said her family was uniting with yours to end a war. Did you just restart that war because of me?"
Matteo looked down at his hand—at the black dragon tattoo covering his knuckles—then looked up into my eyes.
"I didn't restart the war because of you, Mara," Matteo said, reaching out to gently touch my cheek, his thumb brushing over my dimple. "I restarted it because they tried to hurt my son. And because I will never let a Moretti force me into a marriage built on blood and lies."
"She called me a cheap lookalike," I whispered, the words hurting more than I wanted to admit. "She said I'm just a ghost you're using because you can't let Clara go."
Matteo's hand paused on my cheek. He stepped closer, taking Leo from my arms with practiced ease, cradling the baby against his chest before reaching out with his free hand to take my chin firmly between his fingers.
"Clara was my wife, and I loved her," Matteo said, his voice raw, honest, and stripped of all mafia bravado. "But you are not Clara, Mara. Clara was gentle, soft, and hated my world. You... you stood in front of bullets to protect my son. You faced down Bianca Moretti without flinching. You have the fire of my uncle's blood in your veins."
He leaned down, his face inches from mine, his dark eyes burning into my soul. "I don't see a ghost when I look at you, Mara. I see the only woman who has made this dark house feel alive in two years."
My heart hammered wildly in my chest. The lines between boss and maid, cousin and stranger, fear and longing, completely disintegrated in that warm, breathless moment.
Before I could process the overwhelming wave of emotion, Bruno came sprinting up the stairs, his face pale and sweating.
"Don Matteo!" Bruno gasped, holding a tablet. "We have an emergency. The blood analysis results from the restaurant crime scene just came back from our private lab."
Matteo frowned, pulling back slightly from me. "What analysis?"
"The blood found on the glass near the back exit," Bruno explained, his voice shaking. "It wasn't from the Moretti shooters. We ran the DNA against our internal family database."
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Bruno looked up at me, his eyes wide with absolute disbelief.
"It belongs to Clara," Bruno whispered. "Don Matteo... your wife isn't dead. Clara is alive."
