His Tesoro: An Arranged Marriage Age Gap Mafia Romance (Empire of Royals Book 1)
His Tesoro: Chapter 13

I sat down on my bed, my head in my hands. I’d followed my wife up to the roof, and then I’d run away like a coward at the sight of her bare shoulder.

Fuck, I was such an idiot.

A phone notification from my alarm system had pulled me from my fitful sleep, showing that the window to the fire escape had been opened.

Prowling through the dark apartment to the roof had been the perfect distraction from the unceasing thoughts in my mind—thoughts of Arben and the Albanians, the health of our investments, the new soldiers entering our ranks…

But nothing could distract me from thoughts of my wife.

I stood up with a groan. I couldn’t be here anymore—in this apartment, near Sofiya. I got dressed and headed downstairs to my office.

I stared at the latest report Franco sent. He’d managed to break into the email server of Arben’s underboss. The issue was that they were all encoded, and Franco hadn’t been able to crack the code yet.

It struck me as odd. The Albanians had never been particularly sophisticated. Either Arben was smarter than I thought, or the Albanians were getting help from somewhere. No one had announced an alliance, but I was growing increasingly confident that they’d made one.

I tapped my pen against one of the empty coffee cups littering the side of my desk. I’d been in my office since three o’clock this morning, throwing myself into work to distract myself from thoughts of Sofiya. Had she gotten back to sleep? How often did she have nightmares? Did she have everything she needed?

I wanted to strike, attack, do something physical, not stare at my computer, trying to decode fucking emails until my eyes swam. Everyone coveted my position, dreamed of being the most powerful man in New York City, but none of them realized how much tedious paperwork was involved.

My head jerked up as my door flew open. Sienna burst into my office in a flash of color and flopped down in the chair opposite my desk.

I massaged my temples. I really needed to remove that chair.

“Why are you keeping your wife from me?” she whined.

“Sienna, I’m working.”

“Yes, I know. You’re always working. It’s seven o’clock in the morning and here you are, wearing a suit.”

The same unsettled feeling I always had around Sienna clenched my chest. My mom’s struggle with infertility meant my sister and I were twelve years apart. Sienna was only eleven when our parents were murdered. Overnight, my role had transformed from older brother to parent. We had lived in hiding for two years while I worked to rebuild my empire and overthrow my uncle. I’d locked my heart away behind impenetrable barriers to become Don. Along the way, I’d lost the ability to be a brother.

Sienna was a constant reminder of my failures—my failure to save our parents, my inability to love her the way she needed.

“What do you want, Sienna?” I asked, exhaustion drenching my voice.

“I just want to meet her. We live in the same building. It’d be nice to, I don’t know, be friends.”

“She’s not here to be your friend.”

A flash of hurt crossed my sister’s face, and that uncomfortable feeling in my chest intensified. When I’d agreed to this marriage, it seemed so cut-and-dried. I would stand in a ceremony, sign a piece of paper, and secure a Russian alliance. I’d forgotten that I would be marrying an actual person—a living, breathing human being I was now responsible for. I didn’t like the idea of Sienna and Sofiya being friends—it was a blending of two worlds I wanted to keep separate. But it wasn’t realistic to keep them apart forever. I had to accept that Sofiya was a permanent fixture in my life.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “I’m still getting used to this all.”

Sienna leaned forward in the chair. “What’s she like? Is she nice? Is she pretty?”

“I don’t know her.” I wasn’t about to admit that I found my wife rather… captivating.

Sienna frowned. “Come on, tell me something.”

I tapped the pen against my desk again. “There’s something wrong with her legs.”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“She has this disease—Ehlers-Danlos? She uses a wheelchair or walker to get around.”

“Oh.” Sienna cocked her head. “Is that a problem?”

“It could make her more vulnerable. Make us more vulnerable.”

She let out a long sigh. “There aren’t enemies around every corner, Matteo.”

“That’s because I shield you from them,” I snapped.

Sienna’s face hardened, her jaw clenched as she got up and headed to the door.

“Day after tomorrow,” I said through gritted teeth.

“What?” She glanced at me over her shoulder.

“Come over the day after tomorrow. You can meet her.”

The smallest smile tugged at her lips, and I hoped I was forgiven.

“You deserve to be happy, you know,” she said softly.

I swallowed hard, unable to look at Sienna as she slipped out of my office. Leaving me alone.