[BL] The Mafia Boss Wants My Body

He paused for a moment, watching him, then leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

Then...

His expression hardened as he turned away from the bed, the warmth in his eyes fading into something cold and focused.

It was time to deal with Tony.

Matteo walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him. His steps were steady and deliberate as he made his way downstairs, already set on what needed to be done.

The moment he stepped into the hallway, his men straightened and bowed slightly. He didn’t stop. He walked past them and headed straight downstairs.

When he entered the living room, Tony and Mark were still there, along with a few guards.

Matteo’s gaze shifted to Mark. "Why aren’t you asleep? It’s late."

Mark shrugged lightly. "I’m not tired. I’ve been home all day... didn’t really do anything."

"Alright," Matteo said after a pause. His gaze swept across the room, lingering on Tony for a moment longer than necessary. "Everyone—rooftop. Now."

The command left no room for hesitation.

Mark followed behind, sensing the tension in the air. "Matteo, what’s going on?"

"You’ll know soon," Matteo replied shortly.

Matteo and Mark took the elevator first.

The others followed shortly after.

When they reached the rooftop, the night air was cool and sharp.

Selene was already there, called ahead to serve wine. She stepped forward and began pouring into the glasses.

Matteo took his seat, and Mark sat beside him.

"Mark," Matteo said, his eyes fixed on the entrance. "Whatever I’m about to do... don’t interfere. Just watch."

Mark frowned. "Is everything okay?"

"Just watch," Matteo repeated. "And don’t get in my way."

Mark fell silent, sensing the danger in Matteo’s tone. He gave a slow nod.

The bodyguards arrived and took their positions by the entrance, standing still and watchful.

A moment later, Tony arrived.

He carried himself with his usual confidence, pulling out a chair and sitting across from Matteo. He poured himself a drink, finished it, then poured another.

Matteo said nothing. His gaze stayed on him, following every movement as Tony’s throat as he swallowed.

Only when Tony set the glass down did Matteo speak.

"Tony," Matteo said, the name sounding like a death sentence. "Why do you want to kill me?"

Tony froze for a split second, then let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "Are you okay, Mat? What is wrong with you? Kill you? For what?"

Matteo didn’t blink. He barely moved. "Tony... why do you want to kill me?"

Tony’s smile vanished. He looked around the rooftop, seeing the guards standing like statues and Mark looking away. "I don’t understand what you’re trying to say. If you’ve got something to say, say it. Enlighten me."

"Fine." Matteo leaned forward slightly, his voice low. "That night at the villa... when everything went wrong. I told you to look into it."

His eyes stayed locked on Tony.

"You came back with a story. Said it was some rising power... someone trying to step up. Trying to take my place."

He paused.

"And then you brought me a man... someone who took the fall. Said he did it. Said he wanted me gone."

Matteo’s voice turned into a razor-thin growl. "But there’s one detail you overlooked. That night, I saw the trajectory. The gun wasn’t pointed at me, Tony. It was pointed directly at Adrian."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

"I’ll ask you one more time," Matteo shouted. "Since you tried to kill the man I love, which is the same as trying to kill me, why are you trying to kill me?"

Tony scoffed, slamming his hand on the table. "This is ridiculous. You’re making no sense. If this is the kind of game you want to play at midnight, I have no interest in it."

Tony stood up abruptly, turning his back to walk away.

Click.

The sound of the hammer cocking back on Matteo’s Beretta echoed like a thunderclap in the quiet night. Matteo didn’t rise; he simply rested his elbow on the table, the barrel leveled directly at the back of Tony’s head.

"Take one more step," Matteo said, his voice devoid of all emotion, "and I promise I will put a bullet through the base of your skull before you can blink."

Tony stopped dead. He felt the cold weight of the threat in the air. He slowly turned around, his face pale but his eyes defiant. "Mat, what is wrong with you? Are you really pointing a gun at me?"

"If you say one more word that isn’t an answer to my question," Matteo warned, his finger tightening on the trigger, "I will shoot you where you stand. I’m not joking."

His voice rose, sharp and demanding.

"Now answer me, Tony... why do you want to kill me?"

Tony’s eyes flicked from the gun to Mark, but Mark didn’t move. He stayed still, his gaze fixed on the wine in his glass, as if he were somewhere far away.

Tony let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "You’re pointing a gun at me... because of that?" he spat, his voice laced with venom.

"Watch your mouth, Tony. He has a name," Matteo said. "Use it. And answer my question."

Tony let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head as he took a step forward, ignoring the gun aimed at him.

"We’ve been through everything together, Matteo. Years. I’ve stood by you, fought for you, bled for you."

His voice hardened.

"And now... because of someone you just met, you’re pointing a gun at me? Questioning me? I don’t understand you anymore. What is it about him? What makes him so important that you’re willing to turn on me like this? What does he have... that I don’t?"

BANG.

The shot rang out as Matteo fired into the air, the sound cutting through the night. The echo lingered for a moment before everything fell silent again.

Tony stiffened, the warning clear.

"I fired into the air," Matteo said, his voice low. "The next time you speak about him, if you don’t use his name... and use it with respect, I won’t be aiming at the sky."

His eyes locked onto Tony.

"Answer me. Why do you want him dead?"

Tony’s face twisted, the anger he had held back for months finally breaking through. He didn’t care about the gun anymore, his hatred had drowned out every trace of fear.

"Fine! Yes! I want him!" Tony screamed, his face turning a deep, ugly red. "It would have been better if he had died that night! I hate him! I hate everything about him! He came from nowhere with that pathetic face, thinking he’s special, thinking he can just take over your life! He’s a weakness, Matteo! He’s a parasite that’s turning the Devil of the Marcone family into a soft, sentimental fool!"

Tony took another step, his voice dripping with condescension. "He doesn’t deserve the air he breathes, let alone the love you give him. He’s nobody. He’s—"

BANG.

This time, Matteo didn’t aim for the air.