A Hunger for the Forbidden(50)



“And what does that have to do with us?”

“Well,” Angelo continued, “it can have a lot to do with you. Assuming you want to take steps to unify the company.”

“We need to unify,” Alessandro said, his tone uncompromising. “Otherwise, we’ll just spend the next forty years tearing everything apart. Like our fathers did.”

Matteo laughed, a black, humorless sound. “You are my cousin, Alessandro, but I have no desire to die in a warehouse fire with you.”

“That’s why this has to end,” Alessandro said. “I have a proposal to make. One that will see everyone in the family with an equal share of power. It will put us in the position to make the company, the family, strong again. Without stooping to criminal activity to accomplish it.”

Alessandro outlined his plan. It would involve everyone, including their sisters, giving everyone equal share in the company and unifying both sides for the first time.

“This will work as long as this jackass is willing to put some of the extra shares he’s acquired back into the pot,” Alessandro said, indicating Angelo.

“I said I would,” Angelo responded, his acquiescence surprising. Equally surprising was the lack of venom and anger coming from the other man. Or maybe not. Matteo had to wonder if Angelo had met a woman. He knew just the kind of change a woman could effect on a man.

“There you are,” Alessandro said. “Are you with us?”

Matteo thought of the fire. Of the last time he’d seen his father. Of all that greed had cost. This was his chance to put an end to that. To start fresh. The past could never be erased, it would always be there. But the future could be new. For him. For Alessia. For their child.

He had too many other things in his life, good things, to waste any effort holding on to hatred he didn’t even have the energy to feel.

He extended his hand and Alessandro took it, shaking it firmly. Then Matteo extended his hand to Angelo and, for the first time, shook his hand. “I guess that means you’re one of us now,” he said to Angelo. “I don’t know if you should be happy about that or not.”

“I’ll let you know,” Angelo said. “But so far, it doesn’t seem so bad.”

“All right, where do I sign?”





CHAPTER ELEVEN


MATTEO WAS EXHAUSTED by the time he got around to driving back to his palazzo. Dealing with Alessandro, going to his grandfather’s house, had been draining in a way he had not anticipated. And yet, in some ways, there was a weight lifted. The promise of a future that held peace instead of violence. The first time his future had ever looked that way.

And he had Alessia to go home to. That thought sent a kick of adrenaline through him, made him feel like there was warmth in his chest. Made him feel like he wasn’t so cold.

He left the car parked in front of his house with the keys in the ignition. One of his staff would park it for him later. And if not, he didn’t mind it being there in the morning. But he couldn’t put off seeing Alessia, not for another moment. He needed to see her for some reason, needed affirmation of who he was. To see her face light up. To have someone look at him like they didn’t know who and what he was.

Alessandro and Angelo didn’t know about his past, but they knew enough about the family to have an idea. Alessandro certainly hadn’t escaped a childhood with Carlo without gaining a few scars of his own.

But Alessia looked at him like none of that mattered. Like she didn’t know or believe any of it.

That isn’t fair. She should know.

No, he didn’t want her to know. He wanted to keep being her knight. To have one person look and see the man he might have been if it weren’t for Benito Corretti.

He would change what it meant to be a Corretti for his child. He would never let them see the darkness. Never.

A fierce protectiveness surged through him, for the first time a true understanding of what it meant for Alessia to be pregnant.

A child. His child.

He prowled through the halls of the palazzo and found Alessia in a sitting room, a book in her hands, her knees drawn up to her chest. She was wearing a simple sundress that had slid high up her thighs. He wanted nothing more than to push it up the rest of the way, but he also found he didn’t want to disturb her. He simply wanted to look.

She raised her focus then, and her entire countenance changed, her face catching the sunlight filtering through the window. Her dark eyes glittered, her smile bright. Had anyone else ever looked at him like that?

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