Claimed by the Capo

The Rules

The elevator dinged and opened straight into the penthouse. No foyer. No waiting room. Just glass, marble, and the entire city of New York spread out 40 floors below like it belonged to him.

Because it did. Lily stepped out and immediately felt too loud. Too messy. Too alive for a place this quiet. Matteo came in behind her. He didn’t touch her. He didn’t have to. The two BG closed the elevator doors and stayed inside. For a long minute, neither of them spoke. From Matteo’s POV:

She looked out of place. Jeans. Oversized sweater. Hair in a clip. No makeup.

Three months ago she’d been in a club dress and drunk on vodka and bad decisions. Tonight she looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks.

The debt had done that to her. His father’s world had done that to her.

He told himself he didn’t care.

He lied.

Lily’s POV:

The penthouse didn’t smell like whiskey anymore. It smelled like cedar and something expensive she couldn’t name.

There were no photos. No books. No plants. Just furniture that cost more than her father’s house and silence that pressed on her ears.

This was where Matteo Russo lived. This was where she was going to live.

For one year. “You hungry?” Matteo asked finally. His voice echoed.

Lily shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“You didn’t eat today.”

“How do you know that?”

“I make it my business to know things about people I’m legally bound to.”He walked past her to the kitchen. It was bigger than her apartment. Island in the center. Coffee machine that looked like it could launch to space.He opened the fridge. Water. Champagne. Nothing else.

“Chef comes at 7,” he said. “Until then, water.” He poured two glasses and set one on the counter in front of her. He didn’t sit. He leaned against the island, arms crossed.“We should talk,” he said.

“About?”

“About how the next 365 days are going to work.”

Lily wrapped both hands around the glass. Cold. “The rules.”

“The rules,” he agreed.

“Rule one,” Matteo started. “We are married. Publicly. To everyone.”Lily nodded. “Fake marriage. Real paperwork.”

“Real rings. Real last name if anyone asks. Real address.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box. He flipped it open.

Two bands. Platinum. Simple. Lily stared at them. “You already bought rings?”

“I don’t do things halfway, Lily.”He took the smaller one and held it out. No kneeling. No speech. Just his hand, steady.She took it. Slid it on. It fit perfectly. Too perfectly.

Her heart did something stupid. Matteo put the other one on his own finger. Right hand.

“My family will expect to meet you. Dinner. This Sunday.”

Lily almost choked on water. “Your family? The Don?”

“My father. My mother. My brother. His wife.”

“And what am I supposed to tell them? How we met?”

Matteo’s eyes flicked to her face. To her mouth. Then away.

“We met at a charity gala. Six months ago. It was fast. You’re pregnant.”The glass almost slipped from her hand. “Pregnant?!”

“It’s the only reason the marriage makes sense this fast,” Matteo said flatly. “And the only reason my father won’t try to annul it.”

“I’m not pregnant.”

“No one has to know that but us.”

His POV:

Saying it out loud made his jaw hurt. Lying was easy. Lying about her being pregnant felt dirty.

But it would keep her safe. The Don respected heirs. He wouldn’t touch a pregnant daughter-in-law.

And it would explain why a Capo married a bartender’s daughter in 2 weeks. From her POV:

Pregnant. With his baby. Fake.

God. Her father didn’t even know about the one night. Now she had to pretend there was a baby from it.

She wanted to throw the ring.

She didn’t. “Fine,” she whispered. “Rule one.”

Matteo walked to the windows. Hands in pockets.

“Rule two: You don’t go anywhere without me or my men.”

“I have a job,” Lily said.

“You quit.”

“You don’t get to—”

“I do,” he cut in. “You’re a Russo now. Russo women don’t work in bars where anyone can walk in and put a gun to their head.”Lily set the glass down hard. “I need money.”

“You have my card. Unlimited. And an allowance deposited every month.”

“I don’t want your money.”

“It’s not my money. It’s family money. And it’s to keep you safe. Not to buy you.”She hated that made sense.“There have been threats,” Matteo added, quieter. “Since the contract was signed. Nothing credible yet. But I’m not taking chances.”

Lily’s throat went dry. “From who?”

“From everyone who hates me. Which is a lot of people.”He turned and looked at her. Really looked.

“I’m not trying to control you, Lily. I’m trying to keep you alive.”She believed him. That scared her more than the threats.“Fine,” she said. “Rule two.”

Matteo pushed off the island. He started pacing. Slow. Measured. Like a caged animal.“Rule three,” he said. “No one else.”

Lily frowned. “What?”

“No dating. No flirting. No one touches you. No one touches me. Not while this is active.”

“This is a business arrangement,” Lily said. “Why does it matter if I—”

“Because it’s not believable if you’re seen with someone else,” Matteo snapped.

Then he exhaled. “And because I said so.”

Lily crossed her arms. “And if I say no?”

Matteo stopped pacing. He was in front of her in two steps. Not touching. Just close enough that she could smell cedar again.

“Then I remind you what happens when you ignore me,” he said, voice low. “And you won’t like it.”

It wasn’t a threat. It was fact.

And the worst part was, part of her didn’t hate it.

“Fine,” she said. “Rule three.”

“Rule four,” Matteo said. He walked back to the window. Put distance between them.

Smart.

“In this house, we don’t lie. Not about important things.”

Lily laughed. Bitter. “You’re a mafia boss. Lying is your job.”

“Not to you,” he said. “Not for the next year.”

She looked at him. The line of his shoulders. The way he didn’t turn around.

“Why?”

“Because the last time we lied to each other, we ended up here.”Lily went cold. “You remember,” she said.

“The butterfly,” Matteo said without turning. “Black ink. Back of your left shoulder. Wings half open.”Lily’s hand went to her shoulder automatically.

“You remember my name too,” she said.

“Lily Moretti. 23. Two younger sisters. Dropped out of NYU sophomore year to work when your dad started gambling.”

“You had me investigated.”

“I had your father investigated. You came with the file.”Silence. “Did you know?” Lily asked. “That night. Did you know who my dad was?”

Matteo finally turned. “No. If I had, I would have walked away.”

“Why?”

“Because Antonio Moretti owes my family money. And I don’t s**t where I eat.”

Lily flinched. “Charming.”

“Honest,” Matteo corrected. “Rule four.”“Fine,”

Lily said. “Rule four.”

Matteo walked to a drawer and pulled out a folder. The same contract from earlier. He flipped to the last page.“Rule five,” he said. “One year. To the day. Then it’s over.”He pointed. “April 17th. 11:59pm. I sign the dissolution. The debt is permanently cleared. You get 2 million dollars and you walk away. No contact. No strings.”Lily read the clause. Twice.

“2 million?”

“For your trouble. And to start over. Away from him. Away from me.”

His POV:

He’d had legal team draw it up at 4am after he saw her father’s name.

He told himself it was generosity. It wasn’t. It was guilt.

And the knowledge that if he didn’t put an end date on this, he might not let her go.

Her POV:

2 million. Her sisters could go to college. Her mom’s hospital bills would be gone.

All she had to do was survive a year with him.

“Fine,” she said.

“Rule five.”Matteo closed the folder.

“Any questions?”Lily looked around the penthouse. At him. At the ring.

“Yeah. Where do I sleep?”

“Guest room. Down the hall. First door on the left.”

“And you?”

“Master. Opposite end. Doors stay open.”

“Why?”

“In case you need something. In case someone gets in.”

“Safety or surveillance?”

Matteo met her eyes. “Both.”

Two Hours Later

Dinner was pasta. Simple. Perfect. The chef didn’t speak to her. Just set the plate down and left.They ate in silence at opposite ends of the table. After, Lily took a shower in the guest bathroom. His t-shirt was folded on the counter. Black. It smelled like him.

She put it on anyway. When she came out, Matteo was on the balcony. She hovered in the doorway. “I can’t sleep.”

“Come here.”

She did. The wind was cold. He didn’t offer her a jacket. They stood side by side. Not touching.

“Did you ever think about it?” Lily asked.

“About what?”

“That night. After.”

Matteo was quiet for a long time.

“Every day,” he said finally. “I told myself it was a mistake.”

“Was it?”

“It was the only night in the last 5 years I felt like a person and not a weapon.”

Lily’s chest hurt. “What happens if I break a rule?” she asked.

Matteo turned his head. Looked at her in the dark.

“Then I bring you back,” he said. “And I keep you so close you can’t forget who you belong to.”Lily swallowed. “And who do I belong to?”

“Me,” Matteo said. Simple. Final. “For one year, Lily. You belong to me.”She nodded and went inside before she did something stupid.

Like touch him. Matteo stayed out there until 3am, drinking and trying to sweep lily from his thoughts.