Mateo Caputo (Unseen Underground 2)

“You made a decision.” He leaned forward, sucking up all of the air in the confined space. “You stole from Lorenzo, and the only way to get you out of there was to claim you as mine.”

“You don’t have to be mine though.” A thought occurred to me and I turned completely in the seat. “We can pretend. He’ll forget after a while and then—”

“No.” His word was final, his eyes lighting with fire. He thrust open the driver’s door, and I scrambled out after him.

This couldn’t be the end of it. So, Mateo told a white lie, it didn’t mean it had to be the end of the story. “I could disappear. I could run away. They’d never find me.” I rushed the words out as I caught up to him at the front door. I didn’t think twice about following him inside. “Mateo—“

“You can leave now.” I stumbled back at his words, my breath whooshing out of me. “Thanks for tonight.”

“Ma—”

“You’re welcome,” a new voice said, and I moved to the side to see around Mateo. An older woman shuffled forward, taking the stack of cash from him. “They did all of their homework and went to bed with no problems.” She smiled at me as she exited the house silently, and I realized she must have been a babysitter. Did that mean Cardo and Chiara were here?

“What…” I was so confused. I still didn’t know where we were, and I was starting to lose my damn mind. I followed Mateo down the short hallway and glanced around the room he’d walked into. A modern kitchen, complete with all the appliances you could ever dream of. “Where are we?”

“My place,” Mateo said easily, pulling open the refrigerator. He grabbed a bottle of water and downed it in one then walked around the kitchen, messing with different things and setting up a coffee pot.

Had I disappeared into a new universe?

“I…don’t understand.”

Mateo huffed, leaning against the counter opposite me. “What don’t you understand, Luna?” He crossed his arms causing his shirt to tighten across his chest. He was sex personified, standing with his legs crossed at his ankles, his hair a stylish mess.

“I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“Let me break it down for you.” He lifted his hand in front of him and extended a finger. “You stole from the Beretta Mafia—for what reason I still don’t know.” He stared at me pointedly then lifted a second finger. “Said Mafia boss was about to chop one of your hands off. That’s what he does when you take something that’s his.” I swallowed. Lorenzo had pulled his knife out and it had been so close to my arm when Mateo had told him to stop. “The only way to stop it was to claim you,” he told me, bringing up a third finger. “But here’s the thing.” He pushed off the counter, dropping his hands at his sides. “I couldn’t just say you were a friend, or a girlfriend.” He tsked. “Nope. That wouldn’t have been enough to keep the hand attached to your wrist.” I couldn’t look away as he sauntered toward me.

“But—”

“So, I said what I had to say. I told him you were my fiancée.” He rounded the counter that separated us. “And Lorenzo? He doesn’t take being lied to lightly.” I grasped onto the counter as he stopped a foot away from me, so close, but so far away. “Whic

h means, what I said to him has to be the truth.”

“But what if…” I licked my lips, trying to formulate a plan. “What if we went back to him and said we decided not to get married after what happened?”

“No.” He placed his thumb and finger on my chin, staring into my eyes. “This isn’t just your ass on the line now, Luna. It’s mine too.” My shaky hand reached out, and I hooked my finger between the gap of two buttons on his shirt. “We go back on what we said? I’m out. And if I’m out, I can’t provide for the kids.” He stilled. “Now do you get it?”

“I…” My chest heaved, and I tried not to get distracted by his heady musk scent. “I get it.” I fisted his shirt, needing something to center me and the realization. We had no choice, not if we both wanted to survive.

“We get married,” he started, not moving closer to me. “The quicker the better. It’ll prove to Lorenzo that he can trust us.” He paused, the silence stretching between us.

I still had so many questions. So much I didn’t understand. Like… “You’re in the mafia?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Lorenzo helped me when no one else would. I was sixteen with a baby at home that my mom didn’t give a fuck about.” I hated the sad look in his eyes as he spoke. “I had no choice but to drop out of school. And Lorenzo was there to help me. He’s my family.”

I wished I had someone like that to help me. But then…I blinked. I did have someone like that. Mateo was that to me. He’d stepped in when no one else would, and he didn’t even know why.

“They owed someone money,” I whispered. He tilted his head to the side, but didn’t say anything as I tried to find the rest of the words. “For as long as I could remember, I’ve been cleaning up their messes.” I stared at the painting on the wall behind Mateo, too scared to look into his eyes as I opened up to him. I’d never told anyone what I was about to confess. I’d never trusted anyone like I did Mateo in that moment.

“They’d run up bills with the local dealer. Then they’d come knocking.” I snorted. “Of course, they couldn’t pay them. So…I did. I did whatever I had to do to pay them back, normally by working for them.” I swallowed, feeling tears fill my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “It’s easier not to get caught when you’ve got a nine-year-old kid working for you.” I let go of his shirt and wrapped my arms around my stomach, wanting to keep myself together. “So when the dealer was in the apartment when I got home, I knew they’d done the same thing.”

I blinked, hating the tear that slipped free and tracked down my cheek. But Mateo was there, ready to catch it.

“I knew they didn’t have any money to pay him. They’d already stolen my laptop that I used for schoolwork and sold it. Along with most of the furniture.”

“Anything to feed their habit,” he murmured.

I nodded, agreeing with him. “Exactly.” I cleared my throat, looking back at him. “So you see, I had to steal that bag. If I didn’t then he would have…” I trailed off, not wanting to say the words.