Chapter Twenty-Nine
Matteo smirked with devilish intent as Raphael was unceremoniously shoved into the ring. Around them men and women were cheering, excited to once again see Accardi willing to fight. Frankie smacked Raphael’s cheeks a few times, trying to amp him up. He would need it. Matteo had vengeance in mind. Under normal circumstances, Matteo would take a man who touched what he deemed as his to the box to have some fun in private. Luckily for Raphael, his connection to Alessio deemed him off-limits. That didn’t mean Matteo couldn’t find another way to bring him to his knees.
Frankie helped Raphael to tape his knuckles. While he waited, he glanced around the room. The club was packed tonight. Men and women crowded around the ring while his VIP members hung over the railing of the second floor. The bartenders were bustling, handing drinks out as fast as the orders were coming in. Two guards were stationed at each exit while others blended in with the crowd, ready to step in if things got too rowdy. The money collection booth where people could place bets was flashing a light to let the customers know the betting for the next fight was about to end. Not many people placed bets while Matteo was in the ring. The other guy was always given terrible odds. Only the true addicts would dare risk the big pay-out for the slim chance of him losing. It hadn’t happened yet. It wouldn’t happen tonight.
Someone tapped his shoulder and he turned to see his assistant manager, John. He held out a roll of tape but Matteo shook his head and flexed his fists. He never wore tape.
“How’s it been going?” Matteo asked as Frankie did one last slap that may have been a bit harder than necessary.
“Louis can’t get back soon enough,” John replied. Matteo chuckled. “I wanted to ask you to go easy on Raph here. He’s been dropping wads of cash like their crumbs from a sandwich.”
Matteo laughed out loud at that. “Sorry, not a chance. He touched my woman.”
“You have a woman?” John asked with evident surprise.
“She will be soon.”
The announcer stepped up and started introducing the two competitors.
“Bring her in sometime,” John said with a final slap to his shoulder. He jumped down from the ring and whistled loud as the announcer introduced Accardi.
The starting horn blared and Matteo stepped forward. Raphael took a few strides onto the mat and pumped his fists.
“Was this really necessary, Accardi?” Raphael asked with his trademark smile.
“Was it necessary to kiss her?” Matteo countered.
He immediately attacked, sending two punches into Raphael’s gut. The crowd roared as he sent Raphael stumbling back.
“I only pecked her hand,” Raphael said with a laugh. “It’s a common enough greeting.”
Raphael lurched forward, trying and failing to land a jab to Matteo’s face. Matteo blocked two more punches and three kicks before he launched his foot into Raphael’s gut, sending him to the floor.
Matteo stood over Raphael who was holding his bruising stomach. “You’re lucky it was only that. If it had been more, I’d be sending Alessio a bouquet of flowers to lay over your tombstone.”
Raphael kicked, knocking Matteo’s knee. Matteo backed off so Raphael could get to his feet. Before he could get his bearings though, Matteo punched him twice in the stomach and then threw an undercut to his jaw. Raphael stumbled back into the ropes. Matteo cracked his knuckles, relishing how the pain was distracting him from his other problems. Raphael wiped his bleeding nose and smiled as if he was enjoying getting beaten as much as Matteo was enjoying knocking him senseless.
“Come on, Accardi. You’re acting like this is personal!” Raphael taunted.
“We both know who you’re really here to dissect,” Matteo spat.
Raphael pulled back on the ropes and launched himself forward. Matteo rolled his eyes as he came at him with a haymaker. Matteo faked left and then moved right. He stuck his arm out and clotheslined him. Raphael went down hard.
“You know you’re not allowed to kill me, right?” Raphael asked after he got his breath back.
Matteo used his arm to wipe the sweat from his brow. He was breathing heavily as he put his hands on his knees and leaned over Raphael.
“Trust me, I know. I just need to make sure your boss knows he’s not allowed to trespass on my life. What better way than sending him a living piece of artwork?” Matteo smirked.
Raphael spun his legs and flipped backward to get back on his feet. His face turned stern, apparently ready to actually try. Matteo held his fists up in front of him as Raphael went on the offensive. He managed to block several punches and two kicks but misread one movement. Raphael was able to kick him once in the gut and uppercut Matteo to the jaw.
Matteo went down on one knee and the crowd gasped. Matteo spat blood onto the mat and looked up with murder in mind. Raphael kept his gloating smile in place but he couldn’t hide the way his face paled. This was all fun and games, but Matteo was still Don to one of the most powerful families in this country. Making him bleed was a capital offense.
Matteo had enough fun. He lunged toward Raphael who put forth a hell of an effort to block punishing blow after punishing blow. He got Raphael against the ropes and continued to rain down onto any part of his body he could access. It was second nature to him. He was only seven when he first started fighting against the sons of his father’s associates. When his father saw his potential he assigned personal trainers to teach him. Before he reached his teen years, he was stepping into this exact ring and taking on men twice his size and age. Raphael was no match when he decided to stop playing with his food.
He delivered one final blow to Raphael’s ear, sending him to the mat with a thunderous thud. The crowd roared as the announcer determined Matteo the winner. Matteo stooped over Raphael again who was busy trying to regain his breathing and take stock of his injuries. Raphael started laughing and Matteo shook his head and rolled his eyes.
“What’s so damn funny? Do you enjoy getting your ass kicked?” Matteo asked.
Raphael continued to laugh. “It’s always irritated me… How I could never read you. You and Alessio…” Raphael shook his head. “Like trying to read a pebble I picked up from the beach. But now…” He laughed again. Then his piercing blue gaze locked with Matteo’s dark one. “I spy a weakness,” Raphael sang. “And she’s a beauty.”
A few hours later Matteo stumbled up the stairs toward his apartment. Frankie had pumped him full of enough pain killers and liquor to make the stairs impossible to decipher. He tripped on the last step and found himself practically crawling toward his apartment door. Once inside, he managed to get a quick shower to wash the rest of Raphael’s blood and his own sweat from his skin. He staggered toward his bed and face planted on top of it. He groaned as he rolled onto his back and sighed.
After Raphael’s taunt, he had entered two other fights in order to alleviate some of his aggression… some of his fear. Raphael was on his flight home by now, preparing a report that would make Alessio nervous… or ecstatic. He wouldn’t think his cousin to be the kind to use a woman against him, but then again his father was his teacher and nothing was off limits to Giuseppe.
Matteo tried to find a position that was semi comfortable but even laying flat on his back without his pillow and his knees propped up brought him no relief. He should have listened to Frankie and not gone those two extra rounds. He stared up at the ceiling and realized just how silent it was. He thought about the woman on the other side of the wall. Was she asleep? Would he get to hear her moan his name again?
He strained his ears, waiting in the silence for one soft sound to bring him relief. He only needed something small, he thought. A gasp. A contented sigh as she snuggled further into her blanket. The silence was deafening. Nearly an hour went by like that, with him waiting for one tiny sound. He came to the conclusion this silence was worse punishment than hearing her come undone by herself.
Matteo groaned as he rolled off his bed and collected his pillow and comforter. He drug the comforter across the floor into the living room and crawled onto his couch. He turned the tv on to some nameless movie and turned to face the back of the couch. With the light of the tv flickering with the changing scenes and the sound of his heater kicking on, he was finally able to feel exhaustion creeping over. As his lids fell heavily over his eyes, he continued to hear Raphael’s last taunt like some kind of prophecy… I spy a weakness, and she’s a beauty.