Chapter 94 The New Equation
Matteo
By the time I got her upstairs and stripped her clothes from her bruised body, she looked more war goddess than woman. Black eye, swollen split cheek held together by a bandage and a prayer. Knuckles purpled. Eyes half-lidded from exhaustion and that unshakable calm that never should’ve looked that good on her.
I tugged the sheets up to her chin and smoothed her hair back.
“You need rest,” I told her, my voice softer than I meant it to be. “I’ll bring lunch later. Carrol’s still at the hospital.”
She didn’t answer—just sighed, like my words alone unclenched something deep in her chest.
And then… she was asleep.
Just like that. No sedative, no alcohol. Nothing but pure adrenaline crash.
She trusted me enough to close her eyes.
That shit shouldn’t have done what it did to me, but here we are.
I watched her breathe for a moment longer than necessary, then left the room, shutting the door quietly behind me.
Down the hall and into the wing that housed my office.
I didn’t even sit before dialing Caesar.
He picked up on the second ring, voice low and alert like always. “Matteo. Tell me.”
“Luca’s not a problem anymore.”
Silence. Then, “You handled it.”
“I did.”
“You no longer need me in New York?”
“No.” I sank into my chair. “The mess here’s been cleaned up. No need to risk you trying to leave Columbia.”
“Hm.” A beat passed. “What happened?”
“He crossed someone he shouldn’t have.”
“Someone… or something?”
“My wife.”
Caesar paused.
“You married?”
“It’s recent. A few weeks.”
“Since when do you make things official?”
“She earned it.” I didn’t bother explaining.
“What’s her name?”
“Valentina.”
“Pretty.”
“She’s not here to be pretty.” I looked out the window. “She’s here to handle business when I’m not around. If she ever contacts you on my behalf, don’t hesitate. Treat it the same as coming from me.”
“That kind of trust?”
“There are three people I trust to take my place if I die. She’s one of them.”
He let out a low whistle. “Fuck.”
“Exactly.”
“You sound proud.”
I let the corner of my mouth lift. “She made Luca beg for his life. Then took it anyway.”
“Well, damn. You might wanna put a ring on it.”
“She’s already wearing it.”
He laughed. “And here I thought hell would freeze over before you let anyone that close.”
“Maybe it did.” I swiveled my chair back to face the door. “But I’m still breathing.”
“And Luca?”
“Isn’t.”
Caesar went quiet, like he was weighing something. Finally, he said, “You sure she’s not a weakness?”
“She’s a weapon. And she’s mine.”
He let out a slow breath. “Alright. If she calls, I’ll pick up. You got my word.”
“I know.”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah. If anyone asks what happened to Luca… you tell them he fucked around.”
“And?”
I smiled cold. “And he found out.”
The office door creaked open without a knock, but I didn’t have to look up to know who it was.
Rosco only knocks when he wants to be annoying. Which, unfortunately, is most of the time.
He strolled in like he owned the place—shoulders relaxed, boots dirty, expression unreadable. But his tone? That was all amusement laced with brotherly smugness.
“I expected you to be in bed making sure Valentina rested,” he said, dropping onto the chair across from me like he hadn’t just bulldozed into my call with a cartel leader.
“She is resting,” I replied, finishing the last of my notes. “Or at least she was when I left the room.”
“She needs it,” he said with a grunt. “After what she pulled yesterday? Anyone else would still be in a hospital bed with ice packs on their hands.”
I leaned back. “She tried to fight me a little this morning. Said she wanted to check on the baby. You know how she gets.”
Rosco nodded, smiling to himself. “And you let her win.”
“I took her to the hospital,” I admitted. “Just to shut her up. Carrol stayed behind to sit with the baby so Valentina could come back and rest. She actually appreciated it. Brought her crochet shit and said she was going to make a blanket.”
Rosco chuckled, low and rough. “Of course she did.”
He kicked his boots up on the edge of my desk, daring me to call him out.
I didn’t bother.
“Did you let Arianna know?” he asked after a pause. “That she’s now a widow?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Told her this morning.”
“And?”
“She didn’t seem too broken up about it,” I said flatly. “She was more concerned about what was gonna happen to her now.”
Rosco snorted. “Figures.”
“So I told her I’d come back tomorrow and pick her up when she’s discharged. She’ll stay here at the mansion until the baby’s out of the NICU.”
“That’s generous.”
I shrugged. “I also gave her three million upfront. Child support. Eighteen years’ worth.”
Rosco whistled long and low. “Shit. If she plays that right, she could invest a chunk and triple it. Hell, even if she doesn’t invest it, that kind of money could stretch twice as long if she isn’t stupid.”
“She is stupid,” I muttered.
He laughed. “What’s the math on that? Three million over eighteen years? That’s close to fourteen grand a month.”
“Exactly.”
“She could live on half that. Seven grand a month? Still more than most people make. She could stretch it for thirty years easy. Hell, retire if she wasn’t a greedy twat.”
“Yeah. Any smart person would do that. But we both know she’s going to run through it in less than a year.”
He tilted his head. “So what happens to the kid when she burns through it?”
My jaw tightened. “I’m keeping tabs on them. If I see even the smallest sign she’s not taking care of that baby… I’ll step in.”
“And do what?”
“I’ll send the kid to Luca’s parents in Italy. They’ve been begging to be involved. They just couldn’t get through to him.”
Rosco went quiet for a moment, then gave a single nod. “Fair. You’re covering all the angles.”
“I always do.”