Accardi (Genevieve and Matteo) by Allison Franklin novel Chapter 138

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Eight

Matteo sat at the interview table beside Philip while they waited for Conor. Matteo leaned back and propped his arm on the back of his chair. Philip lifted his hands until the shackles around his wrist caught on the metal bar they were looped through.

“Why again am I still handcuffed?” he asked.

Matteo pulled a cigarette from his jumpsuit pocket as the door to the room opened. Conor stepped in, his stride interrupted when his eyes connected with Philip. Philip lurched upward, hands extended for Conor when the chains stopped him.

“That’s why,” Matteo answered, lighting his cigarette. “Thanks for joining us, Conor.”

“Hm.”

Conor’s glare was singular. Philip’s muscles were tight beneath his clothing. His jaw was clenched enough to snap a molar or two. It was clear: neither of these two men wanted to be in the same room together. Conor placed a sheet of paper down on the table and slid it toward Philip.

“Read it. Sign. Sooner you do it, sooner I’m gone.”

“Incentive enough,” Philip agreed.

Matteo drummed his fingers along the table as he sucked his cigarette down to the stub. He flicked it somewhere in the room and pulled out a second one. Philip kept his head bent as he read. The black pen in his hand flew across the lines, only stopping to correct something he didn’t like. Matteo looked at

Conor whose entire demeanor was slowly eroding from angry and vengeful to dark and pleading. He waited as long as he could.

Finally Matteo tapped his knuckles on the table. “How is she?” he asked.

Conor’s grey eyes flicked over to him for a millisecond before they returned to Philip.

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

Conor nodded and folded his arms. “A bit down in the dumps after her confrontation with my father.”

“Down in the dumps?”

“Yeah, cause my dad hit her.”

“Galante hit her?!”

“Is there a fucking echo in here?” Conor asked, his gaze turning sharp and annoyed.

“I want to know how my girl is doing,” Matteo snapped back.

“Don’t we all,” Conor growled.

Philip snickered. “I know.”

Conor stood, the legs of his chair scraping against the linoleum. “You son of a bitch. Sign the fucking papers so I can leave!”

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Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Eight

“Not until you fix this shit,” Philip yelled back, shoving the paper back across the table.

Conor scoured the page, shaking his head harder as he went. “There’s no way in hell I’m signing this.”

“What’s the problem?” Matteo asked, though it was evident these two men thought of him as nothing more than a fly buzzing about their heads.

“I don’t want you anywhere near my family… My daughter. Ever,” Philip argued.

Conor leaned over the table. “I’ll not keep a deal with a ghost. This contract ends at your death.”

“So you’ll stop taking care of my family when I die?”

“You know I won’t!”

“Do I?”

“I’m not him!”

0190

Philip scoffed. “Look at me, Conor.” Philip sat back and laced his handcuffed hands together. He shrugged. “Better yet, let’s hear how Accardi’s woman is doing after being assaulted by a mafia boss. Tell me what my daughter’s future would have been like if I didn’t agree to Michele’s terms. Go on.”

Conor’s shoulders sagged. Matteo waited expectantly.

“He pistol-whipped her,” Conor started. Matteo’s breathing stalled and his heart ached as the blood flowing through it a moment earlier turned to man- made chemical that burned people to the bone. “Knocked her to the ground.”

“The baby?” Matteo whispered, his voice hoarse. He didn’t care if Philip knew. He didn’t care if everyone on the planet knew in that moment.

“It’s fine. She protected herself when she fell. The apology is scheduled for two days from now.” Conor looked back at Philip. “Happy?”

“Not even close.”

Conor sat down and studied the paper. “I can give you all this. I’ll have it rewritten and a new copy printed and faxed over.” Conor slid the paper back over to Philip. “I meant what I said. I won’t honor a deal with a ghost. The no contact ends when you do.”

Philip thought for a moment. He glanced over at Matteo, his eyes shimmering with tears, with defeat. “Does he know?” Philip asked, bobbing his head toward Conor.

Matteo shook his head. “No. I’m unable to tell him.”

“But I could?”

“If you wanted.”

Philip watched Conor whose eyes flitted between them in anger and curiosity. “He would have done something about it. Wouldn’t he?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” Matteo agreed.

Philip nodded. He looked over the paper for a while longer. Then he sighed and as the breath left his body, his head bobbed up and down in affirmation. “I suppose that’s great motivation to grow old in this shit hole.”

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Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Eight

Conor took the paper back and left the room to get a new one ready to be signed. While they waited, Matteo took off Philip’s handcuffs. He paced the room

while Matteo lit another cigarette.

“Are you going to tell him? When Michele is dead?”

Matteo stared at the cigarette in front of him. He thought of what he would do if it were his daughter. He thought of the little information Conor had given about his weakness’ interaction with Galante. He remembered how Gen had shrank away from him after that first abduction. The way she disintegrated into mania when she’d killed Marco. What she was putting herself through for a man, a family, she’d not even known for half a year. What else she would go

through for the rest of her life.

“I won’t tell him,” Matteo agreed. “But when you die, old man, if he comes to me asking for help in getting her back… I’ll move heaven and earth for him.

Deal?”

“Nah, I’ve signed enough deals with devils for one lifetime.”

The door at their backs opened and Conor placed a clean copy of the contract down on the table.

“I hope you don’t mind if I reread it?” Philip asked, walking around the table.

Conor smirked. “Would’ve been nervous if you hadn’t.”

Philip hesitated. He looked up at Conor with a misty expression, one that made Conor clear his own throat. Matteo wasn’t sure what he’d said, but it had

struck a nerve… or a memory. Matteo moved away from the table to stand beside Conor.

“Tell me,” Matteo whispered.

Conor pivoted away from Philip and drug his knuckles across his chin. “Two days, Six pm at Warehouse 17.”

“The docks?”

Conor nodded.

“Good man, Leo. Weapon? What’d she choose?” he asked, almost giddy to hear whatever he could about his weakness.

Conor smirked behind his fingers. “Bat.”

Matteo’s smile pulled at his cheeks. “Leo’s bat. Smart girl.”

“When are you getting out of here? Things still what we planned?”

Matteo nodded, “Met with Roman yesterday and everything is set. We’re just waiting on the meeting with the Russos.”

“Looks good,” Philip interrupted. He uncapped his pen. Before the ink touched the paper though, Conor yanked the page away. “What the…”

“Not so fast,” Conor hissed. “First you’ll give us what you owe us. Legitimate intel.”

“What are you talking about?” Philip asked, bristling.

“O’Brien. You said he was Michele’s son,” Conor said, stepping closer.

“Emmett’s not the son?” Matteo asked.

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Conor shook his head, his eyes still on Philip. “No. He’s given us every reason to believe what this fucker said was a lie. Not that I should be surprised.”

“I didn’t fucking lie.”

“Bullshit,” Conor yelled back. “You said you would support Mira and I leaving the country. You said you would help us! Instead you stabbed us both in the back and you helped my dad rip away the only flicker of light in my life!”

Philip shoved Conor back. “I saved her from you. Trust me, not knowing where she is beats knowing exactly where she is down to the section, block and row.”

Conor’s back straightened. His chest heaved with the knowledge that, no matter how deeply the act cut him… and her… That her life would be better

without him. Without the risk, the mud of it all.

Philip nodded sharply once. “She hasn’t spoken to me either. I know as much as you.” Philip’s eyes flicked to Matteo for a single heartbeat. “Well, mostly.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t lie. I told you that Galante has a child. That you have a sibling. I just don’t know the name. It’s not the boy. It’s his sister, his

half-sister anyway.”

“Maisy,” Matteo growled.

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R Visitor

this is so good, can’t wait for the next update

7 days ago

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Accardi