Matteo (The Syndicates series Book 1)

by Cala Riley

  A smile slowly fills his face.

  “Vanessa. That is a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

  I give him a tight smile as I face back toward the window.

  What did I get myself into?

  “Welcome to my home.” I open the door and usher her in, aware that she is nervous about being in Queens.

  I don’t know who she was running from today, but I know I am going to take care of the problem for her. Nico is already on it.

  “It’s nice.” I watch as she takes in my small home.

  I bought it after Bash told me I was going to be capo of this area a couple months ago. I thought it would be easier to run if I lived here, even if the girls hated it. I considered moving my mom and sister out here too, but they are safer in Brooklyn. At least, until I get this place in order.

  “It is what it is. I still have some work to do to it, but it is getting there.”

  “Why am I here again?”

  “Because you stole from me, which is a crime punishable by death. With that being said, I’m feeling generous and don’t plan to kill you, but you owe me. Until I figure out what I want in return, you’re mine. Now I ordered pizza from my favorite place. Let’s eat before I get you settled in. I still have some work to do tonight.”

  I’m not really hungry after eating Sunday dinner, but if it makes her eat, I’ll force myself to eat until I’m sick. I can tell by the way the clothes she wears hangs on her she’s thin. Most likely an unhealthy thin.

  “I don’t need your charity.”

  “Why do you think it’s charity?”

  “Come on. I know how I look. I’m homeless, not stupid. Add in the fact that I stole from you and it is pretty obvious that you are just trying to give me food because you think I am starved.”

  I shake my head. I knew she was homeless. It was hard not to notice her look then the fact that she slept between two dumpsters. Hearing her say it still causes my heart to ache for her.

  “How old are you?”

  “Why does it matter?”

  Her feisty attitude does things to me. Things that concern me. I shouldn’t feel this way about a thief. I shouldn’t have feelings for some girl I don’t know at all. She shouldn’t even be at my house. I didn’t plan this, but seeing her sleeping there made up my mind for me. I knew I had to bring her with me. This protectiveness inside me just swelled up.

  I blame it on being a big brother to a sister and three surrogate sisters.

  “I’m just curious.”

  “I’m twenty,” she finally relents.

  I don’t know why, but I’m relieved. Maybe because my body reacts to her and I don’t want to be a pervert.

  “I’m twenty-five,” I automatically reply.

  “Good for you. I’m still not fucking you.”

  I try to bite back the growl. I saw how it affected her in the car. I have no plans to take this any further with her, but I can’t ignore her reactions to me. I need to watch my reactions around this one.

  “Let’s eat. I have a lot to do. Your little stunt today put me behind schedule.”

  I lead her to the living room and gestured to her to sit down on the couch. Instead, she takes my La-Z-Boy chair. I put three slices of pizza on a paper plate and hand it to her. Then I load my own plate up before sitting down.

  “I just want to reiterate. I don’t know what you want, but I am homeless, not a hooker. I won’t be exchanging sexual favors for food, money, or anything else you are trying to offer. I might be a thief, but I have a code I follow.”

  I give her my most serious look. I don’t know what this girl has faced in the past, but for some reason I want to make sure her future is a little brighter.

  “I don’t want anything sexual from you. You stole from me. I want what I’m owed.”

  “I gave you your money back.”

  “Eat.” I wait until she takes a bite before I continue. “Until I decide what I want for you, you will stay here in my home. You stole from me. You should be in jail. I don’t believe in the police so I will give you my own justice.”

  “Are you crazy? You can’t keep me here against my will.”

  “It’s already been done. In the meantime, you can keep the house clean to earn your room and board.”

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  I sigh. I knew she wouldn’t be easy.

  “It isn’t up for debate. Would you rather lose a hand? Go to jail? How about I kill you? Is that what you want?”

  “You can’t do this to me. I’ll go to the police since you hate them so much.”

  I crowd into her space, placing a hand on her throat enough to warn her, but not hurt her.

  “I could snap your neck for those words. Do you have any idea who I am?”

  She gulps hard, shaking her head no.

  “You might want to figure it out pretty quick. No one can save you from my wrath.”

  I let her go, internally cringing as she gasps for breath. I didn’t want to hurt her or even scare her. I want to help her, but I still have a reputation to uphold.

  “Eat. You’re too skinny.” I gesture back to her plate.

  I watch as her face turns red. I don’t know if it is from embarrassment or anger. Either way, she picks up her pizza and eats it. I finish my plate, then head to the kitchen to get two bottles of water. I set one on the table beside her before taking my place back on the couch.

  Something about her haunts me. She has this look on her face saying she has seen things. Things that have not done her well.

  “Let’s go.” I head down the hall and up the stairs.

  I can hear her trailing behind me.

  “Go where?”

  This time, I do growl before I pin her against the wall.

  “This is not a democracy. You do not have a say in anything that happens from here on out. I have been patient with you tonight, but that patience is wearing thin. If I tell you to go somewhere, you go. If I tell you to crawl on the floor like a dog, I damn well expect you to bark like a fucking dog. I can tell you do not understand the severity of this situation, so let me break it down for you. I could kill you with the flick of my wrist and no one would give a flying fuck. I wouldn’t even have to hide your body. You stole from the wrong motherfucking person. Now you are paying the consequences for your actions. Don’t think you are in control here.”

  She’s shaking slightly, but I don’t give in. I give her one last hard look before continuing down the hall. I let a small smile slip as I hear her pad behind me. I stop and open the door to my room.

  “This is where you will be sleeping. There is a bathroom off of it so you can shower or whatever. If you need the washer, it’s in the basement, but maybe don’t go down there. I’ll figure your clothes out. Eat and drink whatever you want. I only have two rules for you. You stay inside these four walls and you don’t steal.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Eventually everyone has to pay the consequences for the sins of their past.”

  She nods her head as she gives me an inquisitive look.

  “The door locks, but I wouldn’t suggest you locking it.”

  “Okay.” Her strong voice now meek.

  I turn, walking away from her back out to the living room. I glance back at her once and see her still standing at the open door to my room.

  What is she up to? I think to myself.

  No way did she go from spitfire to silent from one stern talking to. She has to be up to something.

  I chuckle as I think about the locked and alarmed windows. If she’s planning to escape, it’s going to be harder than she thinks.

  As soon as Matteo is out of sight, I close myself into the room. I don’t lock it at first, but smile when I see the lock there. That should buy me a couple of minutes at least.

  I look around the room first, making note of the door to the bathroom and the window along the opposite wall. I glance out the window quickly and curse as I see the height. He had to put me in a room on
the second floor. I almost prefer the basement, but then I remember him telling me to stay out of there.

  I shiver. Who knows what kind of twisted shit he does down there.

  Shaking my head, I go into the bathroom and glance around. Opening the drawers, I find common items, but the one that sticks out to me most is the scissors. They are small and most likely for trimming nose hairs, but they might come in handy.

  Moving to the window, I peek out the frosted glass.

  Son of a bitch.

  Even if I could make it out of the smaller window, I would drop onto the back patio. With the patio furniture and bricks, I don’t think I could make the fall without getting injured or making a lot of noise.

  My heart drops a little.

  Don’t you dare give up on yourself. You can do this. You are a survivor.

  Taking a deep breath, I pull myself from the negative thoughts that plagued me. I can’t let myself feel sorry for myself now. I need to get out of here before Matteo comes back and decides he’s changed his mind about fucking me.

  Moving back into the bedroom, I snoop around to see what other helpful items I could come up with. The dressers and closet are filled with male clothing, causing my anxiety to spike.

  It’s obvious I’m in a guy’s room.

  I rush into the bathroom and look at the items in there again. Male scented soaps, cologne, and a used toothbrush.

  I press my hand to my chest as my heart races. I was dumb to think he would put me in a spare room. This is his room. He will be back at some point tonight.

  Unable to wait a moment longer, I go to the door and click the lock as quietly as possible. Then I go right to the window and look out. I let out a sigh of relief as I see the roof of the garage under the window.

  I look back at the room, depressed that I don’t have my bag anymore, but ready to get the fuck out of dodge.

  I go to the window and try to open it, but it doesn’t budge. I let out a frustrated growl before I realize my mistake.

  Of course it’s locked.

  Unlocking it quickly, I push it open. I’ve got one leg over the edge when it happens.

  Matteo smashes through the door like he is on steroids. The noise is so loud that it causes me to freeze. Then flight kicks in, making me move out the window.

  I don’t make it far. Before I can make it two steps, Matteo is hanging out the window, hand firmly gripped on my arm, pulling me back to the window.

  I try to wiggle out of his grasp, but as soon as he gets me close enough, his other hand grips the back of my neck. Within seconds, he has me back inside the room and on the bed.

  “You have got to be some kind of stupid. Did you really think you could make it out the window without getting caught?”

  I brush my hair out of my face and look up at him looming over me.

  I shrug. “It was worth a shot. I’m not going to let you keep me here captive without putting up a fight. I’m not going to let you sexually assault me or sell me either. I’d rather die.”

  Feeling in my waistband, I grip the scissors I took from the bathroom and clench them in my hand, ready to use at any moment.

  He narrows his eyes at me. “Look at you. Look at the state you are in. You are skin and bones. You look like you haven’t had a shower in months. Who in their right mind would want to fuck you? Who would want to buy you? I think you are giving yourself too much credit.”

  My heart clenches at the harsh words, but I can’t deny them. My clothes are old and ratty. My hair is full of knots and has more grease than a fryer. I can count every single rib on my body. With that being said, cruel and sick people don’t have morals. They would fuck a dog if they wanted.

  “So what’s your plan then? Fatten me up? Offer me unlimited food and give me regular baths until I’m prime product?”

  He moves closer to me, leaning over me until his face is inches from mine. “That tongue of yours is going to cause you a lot of trouble. I never once thought about selling you but keep it up and I may take you up on one of your ideas.”

  He moves to push himself up, but I take this as my opportunity. Lurching forward with him, I swing my hand with the scissors toward his neck.

  He’s quick, though. Before it can impale into his neck, he moves, the blade slicing his cheek. In the next second, I’m face down on the floor, my arm twisted behind my back painfully.

  Still, I fight to hold on to my only weapon.

  “You really are a special kind of stupid. What did you think you were going to do? Stab me in the neck and what? Run out the front door? I have guards throughout this place, along with special locks on the doors. Even if you managed to injure me enough to get away, you wouldn’t have gotten far.”

  “Get off of me. Let me go. I won’t sit here meekly and let you do whatever you plan. I’d rather die.”

  “Oh, that can be arranged, cara.”

  He lets out a sigh before squeezing my wrist until the pain becomes too much. He loosens his grip as soon as the scissors fall from my hands and hit the floor.

  “This didn’t have to be hard. You could have reaped the benefits of living in my home. Hot showers and food, but now you dug the hole deeper. Do you know the punishment for harming a capo? I bet not. You don’t seem to know much about the hierarchy here in New York. We’ll have to change that.”

  He hauls me off the floor, keeping my arms trapped behind my back. He drags me across the room to a chest I didn’t notice before. Using one hand to hold mine, he flips open the lid. My eyes widen at the contents.

  Handcuffs, whips, chains, and a plethora of other items I don’t recognize.

  He doesn’t pay attention to my reaction. He swipes a pair of cuffs before shutting the chest and turning to me. Pulling my hands in front of me, he secures one wrist in the cuff.

  “What are you doing?” I can hear the panic in my voice.

  “Since you can’t behave, I’m going to have to cuff you. Freedom is a luxury. It is earned. I gave you a chance to walk around freely. Now, you have to earn it back.” He pulls me to the bed, pushing me on my back before slipping the cuff through the slots on the headboard and securing the other cuff around my other wrist.

  “I’m never going to stop trying to escape. You can’t just kidnap someone and claim them as your own.”

  He shakes his head before sitting on the edge of the bed. I try to back away from him but can’t get far. He doesn’t seem to notice.

  “Let me ask you something. What are you trying so hard to escape to? A lifetime of stealing and living on the streets? Finding the best dumpster to sleep behind while worrying about your safety?”

  I swallow hard. “I don’t plan to live on the streets forever. It’s a temporary thing.”

  He lets out a humorless laugh. “A temporary thing that’s been going on for four years.” At my shocked look he continues, “Yeah, I looked you up. Vanessa Kendall, foster kid, turned runaway. You ran away from your last foster home at sixteen and stayed in surrounding towns for a year. Then three years ago, you made your way to New York City. I know more about you than you think.”

  I scoff, “You know what they wrote on paper. You don’t know me. You don’t know what my plans are or what I have gone through. Say what you want, but you don’t know me and you never will.”

  He shrugs. “Fair enough. That’s not what this is about, anyway. I want you to think over some things while I go back to work, though. I have not tried to harm you except for when I was defending myself. I have already said, even if you don’t believe me, that I don’t plan to rape you or sell you. I don’t have any plans for you, but I can tell you I won’t harm you if you don’t harm me or anyone who works for me. So why are you trying so hard to escape to a life on the streets when you could spend a couple weeks in a warm house with hot water and food you don’t have to steal?”

  “I told you, I don’t need your charity.”

  He gets up and moves toward the door. “I don’t see it as charity. When you have a pet, you house,
bathe, and feed it. That’s all I’m doing. Showing you human decency while in my care. Take it for what it is or don’t. I really don’t give a fuck.”

  He leaves the room, leaving the door open, hanging off the hinges. I lie still a moment before taking in the room. He left the window open too, causing cool air to chill the room. The bathroom door is still open. Looking back to the bedroom door, I look more closely.

  He busted through the door without hesitation. He didn’t even try a key like I was hoping. The door is splintered from the frame.

  I test the cuffs against the headboard. I cringe at the noise made. There’s no way I can break free without alerting him. I try to squeeze my hand out of them and find that he put them on tight enough to prevent that, but not tight enough to dig into my skin.

  Sighing, I stare at the ceiling.

  What did I get myself into?

  I take a deep breath as I lean against the closed door of my office.

  She is going to be the death of me.

  I don’t know why she affects me so much, but feeling her struggle against me had me harder than the iceberg the Titanic hit.

  Reaching up, I touch my cheek smeared with the blood from the superficial cut she made with those damn scissors.

  Even the thought of that sends a tingle down my spine. I reach down and adjust my dick.

  Down boy.

  I think even as images of her being cuffed to my bed rush forward in my mind.

  Rubbing my hand down my face, I make my way over to my desk and pull out a glass and a bottle of scotch. Pouring two fingers’ worth, I sip the liquid, praying it relaxes me.

  When I took the girl, my plans were to help her get out of the situation she found herself in. I never planned to be attracted to her. I never thought I’d have to cuff her or that she would fight me so hard.

  Part of me wants to be angry with her. The other part is reveling in the chase. The predator in me wants me to catch her and force her to submit to me. The caregiver in me wants to care for her.

  It’s the warring parts of my life finally clashing.

  My phone rings on my desk.