CHAPTER 21 – Matteo’s Jealousy
1229 Words
Leaving the fortress felt like tearing out the last piece of safety they’d had.
They moved fast, packing only essentials.
Weapons.
Food.
Medical supplies.
A go-bag for Elena in case her contractions ever came early—Matteo packed that one himself, refusing to let anyone else touch it.
Everyone was on edge.
But Elena noticed something new in Matteo.
Not just fear for her.
Something darker, simmering beneath the surface.
Possessiveness.
Jealousy.
A man fighting the instinct to lock her in his arms—and the instinct to burn the world around her.
The Jeep
They took two vehicles.
Elena rode with Matteo in a reinforced black jeep. Luca drove. Rosa sat in the back with her, pretending to read her rosary even though her eyes were constantly scanning the forest.
Elena could feel Matteo watching her.
Every minute.
Every breath.
She shifted in her seat, discomfort from the long ride making her adjust her belly carefully.
Matteo reached out immediately.
“Here,” he murmured. “Lean toward me.”
She hesitated. “Matteo, I’m fine—”
He slid an arm around her waist, pulling her gently against his side.
“Humor me,” he said softly.
Behind them, Rosa made a quiet tch noise.
As if she’d seen this a thousand times before.
Elena rested her head on Matteo’s shoulder.
The warmth of him…
The weight of his arm…
The steady rise and fall of his breathing…
She didn’t realize she had closed her eyes until Luca cleared his throat loudly.
“We’re switching drivers,” Luca announced suddenly. “I need to stretch.”
Matteo frowned. “You just switched an hour ago.”
“Stretch,” Luca repeated, climbing out of the jeep.
Another man, rugged and tall—Marco, one of Donatella’s loyal guards—took the wheel.
He shot Elena a concerned look through the mirror.
“Ma’am,” he said gently, “if you need anything—more water, a rest stop—just say so. You’re looking pale.”
Elena gave a grateful smile. “Thank you. I’m a little tired.”
Matteo stiffened beside her.
Marco kept talking, oblivious.
“My sister had twins. She said the third trimester is hell on the back. If you want, I can stop and help adjust—”
“No."
Matteo’s tone sliced the air.
Marco blinked. “Sir?”
“She said she’s fine,” Matteo snapped. “Drive.”
Marco shut his mouth and faced forward quickly.
Rosa stifled a laugh behind them.
Elena elbowed Matteo gently. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” Matteo muttered.
“Matteo.”
His jaw flexed.
“He doesn’t need to talk to you so much,” he said, voice low. “And he especially doesn’t need to offer to… touch you.”
“Touch me?” Elena raised an eyebrow. “He said he could help me stretch.”
“And I can do that,” Matteo said immediately.
Too immediately.
Rosa coughed in the back seat. “Ay, jealousy. My favorite breakfast.”
“Rosa,” Matteo warned.
Elena’s lips twitched.
“Are you jealous?” she whispered teasingly.
Matteo glared at the windshield.
Hard.
“I’m injured,” he said stiffly. “Not blind. I saw the way he was looking at you.”
“He was just being kind.”
“He was being interested.”
Matteo leaned closer, his voice a growl.
“You’re mine.”
Her breath caught.
Softly—
Dangerously—
She answered:
“I wasn’t yours when you pushed me away.”
Matteo froze.
The jeep filled with silence.
He swallowed hard, voice straining.
“Elena… I thought I was saving you.”
“You broke me,” she whispered.
He closed his eyes, pained.
“I know,” he whispered back. “And I will spend the rest of my life proving I won’t do it again.”
She softened.
Just a little.
But before she could respond—
The jeep swerved violently.
Marco cursed. “Road spike! Hold on!”
The tires screeched.
Matteo yanked Elena into his arms, shielding her belly as the jeep skidded across gravel and slammed to a stop.
Dust clouded the air.
Luca jumped out of the other vehicle, gun raised.
Donatella followed, hair whipping in the wind.
“Ambush?” Elena cried out.
“No,” Luca snapped. “Signal jammer. Someone wants to talk, not fight.”
Matteo pushed open the jeep door despite Elena trying to restrain him.
“Matteo—stay down!” she begged. “Your wounds—”
He stepped out anyway, blood blooming beneath his shirt again.
“I said I’d protect you. I’m not hiding behind a seat.”
She could scream at him.
She could cry.
But nothing would stop Matteo De Luca when he felt threatened.
Rosa whispered a prayer.
The air shifted.
From the trees emerged a single man.
Not masked.
Not armed—at least visibly.
He looked older.
Hard eyes.
Calm stride.
Matteo’s expression changed instantly—from fury to something darker.
Recognition.
“Carlo,” Matteo said coldly. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
“Rumors,” Carlo replied. “Convenient ones.”
Elena looked between them. “Who is he?”
Carlo smirked at her.
“Oh, Elena Cruz. The wife. The reason Matteo’s been tearing down half the city looking for Il Corvo.”
Matteo pointed his gun at him. “Say her name again and you’ll lose your tongue.”
Carlo raised his palms.
“I come with information. Not bullets.”
Luca growled, “We don’t want anything you bring.”
Carlo ignored him.
He stared straight at Elena.
“You don’t know, do you?” he said softly.
“The secret he’s been keeping from you.”
Matteo’s grip tightened on the gun. “Carlo—don’t.”
Carlo smiled—slow and poisonous.
“Elena… Il Corvo isn’t after you because you’re Matteo’s weakness.”
Her heartbeat spiked.
Carlo continued:
“He’s after you because you are the one thing Matteo can’t afford anyone to know.”
Elena’s voice trembled. “What does that mean?”
Carlo nodded at Matteo.
“Tell her. Or I will.”
Matteo’s shoulders tensed.
“Elena—"
Carlo whispered the truth first.
“Il Corvo wants the baby…
because the child you carry— is the last surviving heir of a mafia bloodline older than the De Lucas.”
Elena’s breath vanished.
“What?”
Matteo squeezed his eyes shut.
Carlo delivered the blow:
“Elena…
Your child isn’t just Matteo’s.
Your child is the key to inheriting an empire Matteo never told you about.”
Silence.
Elena looked at Matteo.
Hurt.
Shock.
Confusion.
Fear.
“Matteo,” she whispered, voice breaking,
“What did you keep from me?”
He opened his eyes—haunted, devastated.
“Elena,” he said softly,
“There is a reason Il Corvo wants our child alive.”
He took her trembling hands in his.
Something like terror in his voice.
“Because our baby… is more powerful than any of us knew.”
Her world tilted.
Her knees weakened.
And Matteo whispered the secret he should’ve told her from the start—
“Elena…
our child is the heir to two mafia dynasties.
And I wasn’t the only one who knew.”
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