Chapter 3 - Shadows Gathering
The disappearance of Marcus Vance did not go unnoticed. By the third day, the streets of South Boston were buzzing. Marcus was a small player, but he was a puppet for Liam O'Connor, the head of the Irish mob that controlled the docks.
Matteo sat in his dark oak office, swirling a glass of neat bourbon. Across the desk, Paul was going over security reports.
"Liam O'Connor is asking questions," Paul warned. "He knows Marcus was operating in that neighborhood. He doesn't know you took the girl and her mother yet, but he knows Marcus was picked up by high-end professionals. It’s only a matter of time before he traces the vehicle."
"Let him trace it," Matteo said indifferently. "Liam is a dog who barks at shadows. If he steps out of line, I’ll take his docks."
"It's not just Liam, Boss," Paul said quietly. "You’ve changed. The council of families is noticing. You haven't attended the regional summit, and you moved two extra security teams to protect a suburban safehouse. The other capos think you're soft, or worse, compromised."
Matteo set his glass down with a sharp clack. "Let them think whatever they want. Is the girl eating?"
Paul smiled faintly. "She asked the chef for chocolate pancakes this morning. And... she asked if the 'Big Man' was coming to eat with her."
Matteo felt an unfamiliar warmth bloom in his chest, followed immediately by a surge of panic. Emotion was danger. Emotion was how empires fell. For twenty-five years, he had built a wall around his heart, using ice and iron to ensure no rival could ever find a weakness to exploit.
Now, a seven-year-old girl with bruised cheeks and chocolate on her chin was chipping away at his walls with a single look.
Later that afternoon, Matteo walked down to the estate's private gardens. Sunlight filtered through the glass roof of the conservatory. Lily was sitting on a stone bench, sketching in a sketchbook the staff had bought for her. Sarah was resting nearby, reading a book, looking healthier by the day.
When Lily saw Matteo, her eyes lit up. She scrambled off the bench and ran toward him. His bodyguards instinctively reached for their suits, but Matteo held up a single finger, stopping them in their tracks.
Lily stopped right in front of him, looking up at his towering six-foot-three frame.
"Mr. Matteo," she said softly.
"Lily," he replied, dropping to one knee so he was at eye level with her. "Are you comfortable here?"
"Yes," she nodded enthusiastically. "The food is magic. And nobody screams here."
She held up her sketchbook. It was a crude drawing of a large dark figure holding a bright yellow shield over a little girl and a woman.
"That's you," Lily explained, pointing her small finger at the dark figure. "You're the giant shield."
Matteo stared at the drawing. "I am not a good man, Lily. Good men don't do what I do."
"You came when I called," Lily said with simple, absolute logic. "That makes you my hero."
Before Matteo could process her words, his encrypted phone vibrated in his pocket. He answered it, stepping away from the child.
"Boss," Paul’s voice was urgent. "We have a problem. Liam O'Connor just called an emergency meeting at the neutral territory down by the harbor. He claims he has evidence that you violated the territory pact. And he's brought in an outside arbitrator from New York."
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Matteo looked back at Lily, who was waving at him with a innocent smile.
"Tell Liam I'll be there," Matteo said, his eyes darkening to slate. "And assemble the strike team."
