Claimed by the Capo

The Rules:Part 2

3:17 AM

Lily woke up choking.

The dream was always the same. Her father’s office. Men in suits. Her sisters crying. A gun on the desk.

She sat up in the guest bed, gasping, the black T shirt stuck to her back with sweat.

The penthouse was dark. Too dark. Too quiet.

From the other end of the hall, Matteo was awake too.

From Matteo’s POV:

He didn’t sleep much. Not since he was 16.

But tonight was worse. Because she was here.

He heard it. A sound. Not loud. A gasp. Then nothing.

He told himself to stay in his room.

Rule two: give her space.

He threw the covers off anyway.

He didn’t knock. He pushed the guest room door open.

Lily was sitting up, knees to her chest, shaking.

She wasn’t crying. She never cried. That’s what made it worse.

“Lily.”

She jolted. “What… I’m fine. Go back to bed.”

“You’re not fine.”

He crossed the room in 3 steps and sat on the edge of the bed. Not touching. Close enough that she could feel the heat off him.

“Nightmare?” he asked.

“Just the usual.”

“About your father?”

“About everything.”

Silence. The city lights cut across the floor between them.

From her POV:

He was in sweatpants and nothing else. No suit. No armor. Just Matteo.

And he looked tired. Like really tired.

The Capo who ran half the city looked exhausted because she had a bad dream.

She hated that.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said. “The whole bodyguard thing. I’m okay.”

“Rule four,” Matteo said. “No lying. You’re not okay.”

“And you are?”

“No.”

That shut her up.

“Can I…” Matteo hesitated. He never hesitated. “Can I sit?”

Lily moved over. He sat. Their shoulders didn’t touch. But almost.

“Tell me about the butterfly,” he said quietly.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been thinking about it for 3 months and I want to know if I made it up.”

Lily hugged her knees tighter. “My mom died when I was 14. Cancer. She loved butterflies. Had them painted on the kitchen wall. She said they meant you could go through hell and still come out with color.”

“And you got it after?”

“On my 18th. The day I dropped out of school.”

Matteo nodded. “She’d be proud of you.”

“For signing a contract to marry a stranger?”

“For doing what you had to do to keep your sisters safe.”

Lily looked at him. Really looked.

“You don’t have to be nice to me, you know. This is transactional.”

“I know,” Matteo said. “Doesn’t mean I have to be an asshole.”

She almost smiled. Almost.

“Try to sleep,” he said. He stood. “Door stays open. If you need anything…”

“I’ll scream?”

“You’ll say my name.”

He left. The door stayed open.

Lily laid back down. She slept.

The Next Morning

Breakfast was already on the table when Lily came out.

Matteo was on a call. Suit again. Hair wet.

“I don’t care what it costs. Double the men on the perimeter. No. I said no one gets near her.”

He saw her and ended the call.

“Morning,” he said. Like it was normal.

“Morning,” Lily said.

He pushed a plate toward her. Eggs. Toast. Coffee exactly how she took it that night at the bar. Black. No sugar.

She didn’t ask how he knew.

“We have things to do today,” Matteo said.

“Like?”

“Ring fitting. Dress fitting. Photos for the announcement. And we need to go to the bank.”

Lily froze. “The bank?”

“To add you to the accounts. For the allowance. For emergencies.”

“I don’t want…”

“Lily.” He looked at her. “Rule two. You’re protected. That includes financially. Please.”

The please threw her.

“Fine,” she said.

The day was a blur.

Jewelers. Tailors. A photographer who told her to “look in love” while Matteo’s hand sat on the small of her back.

His thumb brushed her spine. Right over the butterfly. Once.

She didn’t breathe.

From his POV:

Every person they met called her “Mrs. Russo.”

Every time it happened his jaw ticked.

He hated it. He liked it.

He hated that he liked it.

From her POV:

She kept waiting for someone to call her out. “She’s not really his wife.”

No one did. They just smiled and said “congratulations.”

It felt real. And that was dangerous.

By 6pm she was exhausted.

Back at the penthouse, Matteo poured her a glass of wine.

“You did good today.”

“I felt like a fraud.”

“You’re not. Not to me.”

They ate dinner on the couch. TV on but not watching.

“Can I ask you something?” Lily said.

“Always.”

“Why me? You could have taken the money. Or my father. Why a marriage?”

Matteo set his glass down.

“Because money is temporary,” he said. “And your father is a coward. But you… you left that night. You didn’t ask for anything. You didn’t know who I was.”

“So?”

“So I trust people who don’t want anything from me. And I haven’t trusted anyone in a long time.”

Lily stared at her hands. The ring caught the light.

“That’s a terrible reason to marry someone.”

“I know.” he smirked.