Accardi (Genevieve and Matteo) by Allison Franklin novel Chapter 130

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty

“Damn, Boss,” Greg groaned as he picked up his mangled cafeteria tray. “I wasn’t done with my sandwich yet.”

Matteo gave Greg a look that said he wasn’t in the mood for jokes. Greg threw his hands up in surrender before he went to grab napkins to wipe the blood from the table. Matteo clocked each guard as they grouped together to try to figure out how to handle this situation. Matteo had warned them all that he

might need to take one man out to prove his dominance but what he hadn’t counted on was Frankie’s vendetta being so bloody. Which… was an oversight

on his part.

“I have to say I don’t think Michele has ever gotten his own hands dirty like that,” Philip observed, his eyes on the man laying lifeless on the floor.

Matteo flexed his knuckles. “I know he hasn’t. Some of us use our birthright like a shield. The Accardis like to lead by example. Now. Back to our

discussion.”

“What happened to my daughter?” Philip questioned, his eyes defiant but softening around the edges as if Matteo had cracked his resolve.

“I would tell you, but it was discussed in a meeting between the three families.”

“You son of a bitch.”

“Son of a dead bitch, which is why I don’t give a fuck about your loyalty to Michele. Did you know? Did you know he had my mother killed?”

Philip sat back and tapped his knuckles against the table. “I knew he was thinking about it. He was trying to think of ways to break you. He needed the

money.”

“Chatty now?” Greg asked as he started wiping the blood away from Matteo’s side of the table.

“It’s nothing he doesn’t already know. Isn’t that right, Accardi?” Philip asked.

Matteo leaned forward. “I know he had my family killed. I know he’s broke. I know he’s trying everything in his power, even resorting to asking me for an

apology, to try to get my business for himself. What I don’t know is why.”

Philip smiled. “Seems like you had a pretty good list right there.”

“We know none of that is enough to make a man throw away generations worth of loyalty.”

“Loyalty? To a family who split apart nearly two hundred years ago?”

“Yeah.”

Philip squirmed in his chair. He sighed and met Matteo’s eyes. “I want to know what happened to my daughter. I want to know she’s safe.”

Matteo sat back in his chair. “It’s admirable, what you want.” He looked around the room and observed the guards starting to clean up the mess Frankie had made. “Freedom for your family in exchange for your own. The only problem is, with you in here, who can you trust to protect them out there?”

Philip snorted. “You?”

Matteo shook his head. “Conor.”

“No. I don’t want him involved in my childrens‘…”

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Chapter One Hundred and Thirty

“He wouldn’t be We both know how he feels for your daughter. We both know he’d do anything to protect her. This is my offer,” Matteo started, his eyes firm and his jaw set. “We have a plan in motion to wipe Michele off the planet thus leaving your family vulnerable. You tell me what’s gotten Michele so amped up and seeking power all the sudden and I can write up a contract stating that Conor will stay far from your family while also making sure no harm ever comes to them. They’ll still receive the massively over–drawn inheritance when you die. Your hot little wife can keep living her best life in Miami. I’ll make sure the twins get into whatever college they want. They’ll have a good, solid life.”

“And what if you get a sudden hankering for power, Accardi? Do I just wait for the next Mafia Don to come in and make a deal?”

“Didn’t you hear?” Matteo asked. He held up his left hand. “I’m a married man now. The only power I seek is over my woman and I’ll be fighting her for the

helm for decades.”

“And Conor? What about his need for power? As you said, I’d be signing the deal with him, right?”

Matteo sighed and tapped his knuckles against the table, leaving bloody prints behind. He clicked his tongue at the open wounds wondering if Gen would bring a first–aid kit whenever she was able to visit. “I can’t tell you specifics as of yet. They still need to be ironed out. But one thing I can assure you is that Conor will never be Don.”

Matteo kept his eyes locked with Philip’s while the older man held an internal debate over this new information. A moment later Frankie plopped down into the seat beside Philip. Matteo raised an eyebrow at his second in command who looked as though he’d just received a massive release.

“Was all that really necessary?” Matteo asked.

Frankie dropped his head back and closed his eyes. “Yes, I think so.”

“You understand I’ll have to double the guards‘ salaries and probably offer them jobs because there is no way in fuck their supervisors are going to buy whatever story they spin?”

Frankie chuckled and smiled with sincerity for the first time in days. “Come on, we all know you have some spare pocket change.”

“Funny. Did you at least get what you needed?”

Frankie’s head fell forward and his smile turned into a grin. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.” He held up a portion of a white shirt he’d probably ripped off the corpse lying in the custodial closet. There was an address written out in blood. “Illinois. The fucker’s got her in some compound outside of Chicago.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks!”

Matteo rolled his eyes and looked back at Philip who was watching their interaction with keen eyes. “So, Phil. What’s it going to be?”

“I want to see Conor. I want to speak with him myself and when or if I sign I want it to be his hand holding a pen. Not you.”

“Done.”

Philip sighed. “Tell me about my daughter.”

Matteo took in a deep breath and readjusted himself in his seat. “Michele got a package from one of the Irish families. In it there was a letter stating, ‘Family is everything. Enjoy never growing yours.“” Philip shivered, his eyes locked with Matteo, knowing this letter was the least of it. “That wasn’t all he received. In the package, tied with a bow was…”

“Spit it out,” Philip whispered, all hostility gone to be replaced with a father’s worry. Matteo swallowed and started to think of the life growing within his wife’s womb. The fear of something like this happening to a daughter of his own gripped his heart in a vice and squeezed, making it difficult to get the

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Chapter One Hundred and Thirty

words out. “Say it!” Philip yelled

“Mira’s reproductive organs. Her uterus, ovaries, everything.”

Philip’s face whitened and his mouth hung open.

“Cristo,” Greg whispered, making the sign of the cross over his heart.

“Where is my daughter?” Philip asked.

“At school. She escaped the Irish, and managed to find her way to Scotland. Michele had her put up in a premier hospital there where she made a full recovery. She started attending Oxford as planned a few weeks ago,” Matteo explained, his voice soft now, filled with an understanding only achievable when you’re responsible for a life you have created.

Philip put his head in his hands. “She’ll never have a child.”

“No.”

“Who? Who did this?” Philip raised his head. “It’s the Phelans isn’t it?”

Matteo nodded. Philip took his tray and swiped it off the table.

“Fucking bitch!”

“Philip, I’ve told you what I know. Now it’s your turn. What has Michele up in arms? What is he afraid of?”

“The Phelans,” Philip answered, running his hand wildly through his hair.

“The Phelans? Why? His wife died years ago. I thought the issue was buried.”

“The issue with his wife was buried.”

“There was another issue?”

Philip sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands as if he was having to break a physical barrier to give out this information. At last he let out a long breath and settled his palms flat on the table. “It isn’t his wife that has the Phelans pissed off. It’s his child.”

“Conor?” Matteo and Frankie repeated at the same time.

Philip released a humorless laugh. “Yeah, no. After his wife died in childbirth, he met someone at her funeral. They started an affair that resulted in a child.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know the child’s first name. I don’t even think he does. But I know what family the woman he had an affair with belonged to.”

“I’m waiting on bated breath,” Matteo hissed in annoyance.

“O’Brien. The woman he fucked around with. She belonged to the Irish family O’Brien.”