Chapter 28 The Muscle Meets Magic
Adriano:
The graze on my arm throbbed faintly, a reminder that even I wasn’t untouchable. Yet the incident wasn’t what it had first seemed. After running my intel, combing through the reports, I discovered the truth: it wasn’t some gang vendetta or rival faction trying to test the Service. No—it was a lowly, disgraced bureaucrat. A man I’d exposed for bribes and corruption months ago. He’d lost his job, his wife had left him, taking their child, and all that remained was rage. Revenge, petty and pathetic, but dangerous if underestimated.
I allowed myself a moment of disdain, masking the satisfaction of knowing the real threat. One bullet grazed me—one mistake, and he would’ve learned the hard way what happens when you cross the Service.
I summoned Matteo to my office. My brother, my consigliere, my muscle when subtlety failed, arrived almost immediately. He leaned against the doorway, his expression one of feigned reluctance, hands casually in his pockets, but the gleam in his eyes betrayed him.
“So, you want me to babysit?” he said, voice gruff, deliberately exasperated. “Isabella and Sofia. That’s the assignment?”
“Yes,” I said flatly, masking my own satisfaction behind a calm, professional demeanor. “You’ll handle it discreetly. No interference unless necessary. Keep them safe, Matteo. Full discretion.”
He tilted his head, a faint smirk crossing his lips. “Full discretion, huh? Doesn’t sound like much fun.”
I didn’t respond, but the corner of my mouth twitched. He couldn’t hide his excitement. Even under that gruff exterior, I knew exactly what he was thinking: Sofia. My little girl. My niece. The child whose laughter had been infectiously chaotic the week she moved in.
“You’re enjoying this way more than you let on,” I said quietly.
He shrugged, pretending nonchalance, but I could see it in the tension of his shoulders, the way his eyes softened when he thought about her. “Don’t get used to it,” he muttered. “It’s just… a job.”
“Yes, a job,” I echoed, though I allowed myself a small, private smile. “A very important one. And I expect results. Their safety is paramount.”
He straightened, face falling back into his serious mask, but the faint curve of his lips betrayed him. “I’ll make sure no one bothers them,” he said. “Not a single scratch.”
I watched him leave, and I allowed myself a rare moment of reflection. This wasn’t just business. This wasn’t just strategy. This was family. Isabella, Sofia—they were mine to protect. And Matteo, for all his theatrics, would guard them with the same obsession he gave to any Service operation.
Yet there was a subtle thrill in this. Knowing Sofia would be in good hands, knowing Matteo would adore her in his quiet, gruff way, made the edges of the danger sharper, more vivid. I could think clearly, plan meticulously, and still carry the warmth of knowing she was already embedded into our lives.
Back at the apartment, I caught a glimpse of Isabella and Sofia through the living room doorway. Sofia was laughing, chasing after Luca’s small, improvised game from last visit, and Isabella watched with that gentle smile that always made my chest tighten. The weight of the world, the Service, the threats—they were heavy. But in moments like this, the warmth of family, the promise of protection, and the subtle threads of influence I’d woven around them… it made every calculated risk, every dangerous step, worthwhile.
And I resolved, silently, that no one—not disgraced bureaucrat, not petty rival, not fate itself—would ever harm what was mine to protect.
I watched from the doorway, arms crossed, as Matteo stepped into the apartment. His face was carefully neutral, brows furrowed, lips set in that permanent “don’t mess with me” line, but I knew him too well. He was the perfect blend of enforcer and strategist—dangerous, lethal, utterly devoted to the mission at hand. Today, that mission was keeping Isabella and Sofia safe.
Sofia, of course, had zero awareness of danger. She barreled toward Matteo with her usual unstoppable energy, clutching the stuffed unicorn he had gifted her during my last instruction.
“Hi! You’re Uncle Matteo, right?” she chirped, eyes wide with curiosity.
He froze, just for a fraction of a second, before his lips quirked slightly. “Yeah,” he said gruffly, trying to keep the tone serious. “That’s me.”
Sofia stepped closer, offering the unicorn as if it were a sacred peace treaty. “Do you like it?”
Matteo’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. The little girl’s fearless charm was immediately disarming. He took the toy gently, holding it at arm’s length, pretending to scrutinize it. “Hmm,” he said, voice low and theatrical, “not bad. Could be improved, but it’ll do for now.”
Sofia giggled uncontrollably, bouncing on her heels. “You’re funny! I like you!”
I hid a smirk, noticing the rare softness creeping into Matteo’s posture. The man who could intimidate an entire room with a glance was now crouched slightly, holding a unicorn, talking to a five-year-old like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Alright,” I said, stepping closer, “remember your job.”
He shot me a glance, mock irritation in his eyes. “I remember. I’ll keep them safe. But… she’s different.”
“She always is,” I said quietly, watching him cautiously hand the unicorn back to her, letting her hug it tightly.
Sofia immediately began chattering, showing him every corner of the apartment, every toy, every drawing on the walls. Matteo followed silently, occasionally offering a gruff “Wow, nice work,” or a nod of approval. Yet even in his quiet responses, I could see the warmth building. He was captivated, subtly bending his hard edges around her laughter, her innocence, her chaotic energy.
After a while, Sofia curled up on the couch, leaning against him as he sat down reluctantly. “You’re my favorite uncle already,” she declared, patting his arm.
He froze for a fraction of a second, then gave a very careful, deliberate nod. “I’ll accept that,” he said softly, almost in disbelief.
I couldn’t suppress the faint smile tugging at my lips. Matteo, my fierce, unwavering consigliere, who faced danger without flinching, had already been undone by a five-year-old’s charm. And I realized then that having him around wasn’t just for protection—it was already shaping our little family in ways I hadn’t fully anticipated.
Watching them, I felt that subtle satisfaction I always did when plans aligned perfectly. Sofia was safe, happy, adored, and growing closer to the men in her life who would always protect her. Matteo was smitten in his own way, quietly devoted, ready to follow my instructions without question. And Isabella… she could finally breathe a little easier knowing we were all on her side.
This, I thought, was control. Power. Strategy. But also… warmth.
And I allowed myself a rare moment of quiet, letting the chaos of the world fade for a few seconds while the future—our little family—started threading itself together with laughter, love, and unshakable loyalty.
And I would do anything to not lose it.