Accardi (Genevieve and Matteo) by Allison Franklin novel Chapter 63

Sixty–Three

Matteo finished tilling the soil in the third bed of the day. He evenly dispersed some compost before he smoothed the rich dirt out. Another bed done. Nine more to go. To his right he could hear Mrs. Henderson humming an old tune he didn’t recognize while she prepped a bed of her own. They worked in silence. They always had.

He’d met her a few years earlier after the death of her husband. She’d left a note on his door pleading for him to allow her access to the garden. Her husband had always wanted to ask but never found the courage. Matteo couldn’t refuse her help. She was one of three people

who had a key.

Matteo pulled the tarp off the fourth bed, folded it up, put it in the nearby shed and started to till. With his head bent, focused on his task, he didn’t hear when the door to the stairs opened. Instead, what caught his attention was that Mrs. Henderson’s humming had

stopped.

“Bonjourno.”

Matteo sighed and continued to work. “It’s okay, Mrs. Henderson. Why don’t you take a break and get something to eat?” Matteo

suggested.

“Of course, Mr. Accardi,” she said, her voice small as she hurried off the rooftop garden.

A moment later a pair of thousand–dollar Italian loafers entered his field of vision.

“Giardinaggio, Matteo? Veramente?” Alessio asked.

“Vaffanculo,” Matteo hissed, causing Alessio to chuckle.

A cigarette appeared under Matteo’s nose. He sighed, took the olive branch, and set the hoe down. He straightened himself up and stretched his back before sitting down on the edge of the raised bed. He took a long, hard pull, closed his eyes, turned his face up to the sky, and released the plume of smoke.

“Il giardino sembra una merda,” Alessio said, glancing around, his eyes focused on the third greenhouse in particular.

“Grazie,” Matteo said with sarcasm. “Cosa vuoi?”

“I spoke with Frankie. He told me what happened.”

“Have my men created a Palladino–shaped bat signal that calls to you whenever I’m feeling like shit or something?” Matteo asked, though in his mind he was already visualizing the beating Frankie would get the next time they crossed paths.

“While the news that your little plaything had been kidnapped was intriguing to hear, I was already state–side when I got the news. Michele called me first. Remember im? Your cousin who is being attacked?”

Matteo scoffed and took another pull. “I’ve been busy. Galante can handle himself. The families have been doing it for years. If he can’t

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Chapter Sixty–Three

then maybe it’s time he turns things over to Conor.”

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“Conor is in no shape to take over the Galante family,” Alessio said. He found a fairly clean rag and laid it down on the edge of a garden

bed so he could sit without ruining his suit.

Matteo observed his cousin with shrewd eyes. There was a deep wrinkle to the edge of his dark brow. “You’re nervous.”

“Yes.”

“About?”

“The empire crumbling because of a couple skirts.”

“What happened with Genevieve was nothing. Just some punk who thought he could outsmart me because he has a semi–powerful daddy.”

Alessio pulled a cigarette out for himself and took an eternity to light it. Matteo glanced around the garden, the mental checklist he had

growing as he waited for his cousin to get to the fucking point.

“It took you three days to find a woman kidnapped by a punk?” Alessio asked. Matteo’s eyes narrowed. “What would happen if she was

taken by Guerra? O’Brien? Michele?”

“He wouldn’t,” Matteo growled.

Alessio shrugged. “Your enterprises are paying off handsomely while his are one bad scandal away from collapse. He’d be a fool to not at

least think about it while you’re like this.”

“Oh? And are you thinking about it, Cugino?” Matteo asked, standing.

Alessio didn’t bother to take the bait. He merely looked up at Matteo with barely hidden interest. He glanced around the rooftop and his nose pinched. “I live on a 100 acre farm in the Italian countryside. My home is worth millions. I have a view of the ocean and the air

smells like the earth. Do you know what this city smells like?”

“Piss?”

“Shit,” Alessio answered. “I have no interest in your territory, Matteo.”

“But you’re telling me Galante does,” Matteo said, no longer a question in his mind. Alessio took a short drag of his cigarette and nodded.

“Son of a bitch.”

Matteo ran his hand through his hair and sat back down. Just what he needed. Their families had gone over two centuries without trying

to take over each other’s territories. He didn’t have time for this.

“I got suspicious after he was able to find Valentina and Antonio’s murderer so quickly. I did some digging into the dirty cop who took

the fall for him,” Alessio began.

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Chapter Sixty–Three

“Mira’s father,” Matteo nodded, thinking of the girl that had Conor wrapped around her finger.

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“The man had done practically nothing for the family. Didn’t have so much as an ink drop on his record. Then, suddenly, he’s arrested for

life, his wife moves into a two million dollar estate in Florida, and his children are dropped multimillion dollar inheritances for when the

man dies?”

Matteo sighed. “He wanted to get rid of the girl.”

Alessio nodded. “The one thing that kept Conor from wanting to inherit the kingdom.”

“You think the Irish affiliation is a lie too?” Matteo asked, pulling out his own pack of cigarettes. He scowled down at the empty pack: his

second one since Genevieve left town.

“No, I think that is completely true,” Alessio said, handing him another one of his own cigarettes. “I just don’t think their relationship is

as tense as Michele wants us to believe.”

“It would make sense to be friendly with them if he wants a shot at my title,” Matteo said, shaking his head.

“You need to make yourself stronger, Matteo,” Alessio warned.

Matteo scoffed. “I can handle myself. Trust me, I have plenty of pent up anger to…”

“You don’t need anger, you need strategy. Michele has been planning this for years and is only now setting it into motion. Which brings

us back to Genevieve.”

Matteo narrowed his eyes as he stared across the pebbled path at Alessio. He took a pull and blew it out through his nose. “You want me to make her my Donna? Isn’t that a change of heart,” he said, his voice dripping with irony.

Alessio stood up and put his free hand in his pocket while his eyes swept over the rooftop. “Michele called me to the states to talk. He was definitely feeling me out to see how I’d feel about turning on you. I made my position on the matter clear. He got upset by it. Maybe

mentioned her name.”

“What?” Matteo growled, fisting his hands and smothering the cigarette out.

Alessio shrugged. “An organization can become stronger with a woman at the helm. We all know this.” Alessio gestured around the garden. “They bring life, hope, all that garbage. I may not necessarily want that for myself but my organization is unthreatened at the moment. Bringing a new woman into the fold would heighten morale. Your men need that.”

Matteo stood up. “Why the sudden 180, Cugino? Two weeks ago you were threatening to get rid of the woman. Now you want me to marry

her?”

Alessio sighed. “I’m telling you to pick one or the other. From what Frankie told me, the woman can hold her own. Maybe I misjudged. Maybe she could be of use in this mess. This back and forth, though, will not do. It’s not like you to chase. I’m looking out for you. One or

the other. Cut her loose or make it official. I’m just passing along information.”

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…

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Chapter Sixty–Three

Alessio stubbed out his cigarette as if he was pounding a gavel. He took the rest of his pack out and laid them next to it. He started for the door, ever the one for a dramatic exit. “By the way,” he called over his shoulder. “Michele knowing her name…”

“Yeah, I know,” Matteo said.

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