Chapter 170

Chapter 170
Matteo's accusation hung in the air between us.

"Your orders will be right up," I said mechanically, turning to leave.

The café bustled with morning customers—businessmen in suits grabbing coffee, mothers with young children sharing pastries, students with laptops spread open. The normalcy of it all felt surreal against the chaos of my life. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans and baking bread that usually comforted me now seemed to intensify my nausea.

Halfway to the kitchen, I stopped. Enzo deserved better. He deserved to have someone stand up for his sacrifice, to make it clear that Antonio had been unjust in his punishment. Taking a deep breath, I turned back around.

Matteo was whispering something to Diana, his hand covering hers on the table. I approached their table again, my heart hammering against my ribs so loudly I was certain they could hear it.

"Can we talk?" I asked, my voice barely audible over the café's background noise.

Matteo looked up, surprise flashing across his face before his expression hardened again. "What, you're back already? Did you forget to ask if I wanted a tip?" Despite his harsh words, I noticed the moisture gathering in the corners of his eyes. He was hurting too.

"Please," I pressed. "Just for a minute?"

Matteo's jaw clenched as he studied me, the muscle twitching beneath his skin. Diana glanced between us, clearly uncomfortable with the tension. She twirled a strand of her hair nervously, her other hand fidgeting with her napkin.

"Fine," he finally said with a sigh that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him. "Meet me behind the café in five minutes."

I nodded gratefully and headed to the kitchen to place their order. Marisa took the slip from me, her eyebrows raised in silent question. I could tell she'd noticed Diana's discomfort and wanted to know what was happening.

"I'll be right back," I whispered, the knot in my stomach tightening. "I need to talk to him."

She nodded, but I caught the concern in her eyes.

I slipped out the back door into the alley behind Heartfelt Café. The morning air was cool against my skin, a stark contrast to the suffocating heat of emotions inside me. The alley was narrow, with dumpsters lining one wall and the brick exterior of the neighboring building on the other. I waited, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, rehearsing what I wanted to say.

A few minutes later, the door opened and Matteo stepped out. He'd changed since I last saw him at the Vasquez mansion. His eyes were harder, with dark circles underneath, and he carried himself with a rigid tension that hadn't been there before. He wore a deep blue dress shirt that emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, reminding me painfully of Enzo.

"What do you want?" he asked, not bothering to hide his impatience. "I don't have much time." His breath formed small clouds in the cool air between us.

I took a deep breath, the cold air burning my lungs. "I wanted to explain about Franco."

"You don't owe me any explanations," he cut in, but I pushed forward.

"I was trying to help you," I said, my voice growing stronger with conviction. "I thought if I could get Franco to delete that video, you wouldn't be in danger anymore."

Matteo's laugh was bitter and hollow, echoing off the brick walls around us. "So you slept with him out of the goodness of your heart? Was it jealousy? Or was it malice?" His eyes narrowed, searching my face for any sign of deception.

"It was for you!" My voice cracked, emotion threatening to overwhelm me. "I needed him to delete that video of you helping Carlo. I didn't want Antonio to find out what you did."

"If you wanted to help so badly," Matteo said, his voice dropping dangerously low, "you should have come to us directly. You should have trusted us enough to tell us what was happening instead of jumping into bed with him."

"I was trying to protect you," I insisted, frustration building in my chest like a pressure cooker. "How was I supposed to know what to do? Everything was falling apart, and I was scared!"

"I'm fucking scared too!" Matteo's voice rose sharply before he caught himself, glancing around to make sure no one had heard. "We're all scared. Enzo is dead, my father is out for blood, and now Franco is taking over territories we've managed for years. But that doesn't mean we betray each other."

"I didn't betray you," I said, my vision blurring with unshed tears. "I did it for you, goddammit!"

Matteo stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then something in his eyes shuttered closed, like blinds being drawn over a window.

"Stay away from my brothers," he said quietly. "We've lost enough already."

Before I could respond, he turned and walked back into the café, leaving me alone in the alley with nothing but the echo of his words and the hollow ache in my chest.

I don't know how long I stood there, trying to collect myself enough to go back inside. The distant sounds of traffic and the occasional shout from pedestrians on the main street seemed to come from another world. Eventually, the back door opened again, and Marisa poked her head out.

"Hey," she said softly. "Are you okay? I saw Matteo come back in, but you didn't."

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak without breaking down completely.

Marisa stepped out and wrapped her arms around me. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her warmth a stark contrast to the cold alley. "I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but I heard some of it."

"I should have done better," I said, my voice barely audible.

"You did your best," Marisa said firmly, pulling back to look me in the eye.

I wiped at my eyes, trying to regain my composure. "Enzo should have had that position, that power," I said, more to myself than to her. "It wasn't right what Antonio did to him."

Marisa squeezed my hand. "Enzo is dead," she said gently, her eyes reflecting a sadness that seemed deeper than sympathy.

"Franco should be too." I said determinedly, making her stop moving and probably stare at my face. I should not let Franco and Antonio get away with this crime.