The Underbosses Chef [M/M]

02 - Two - Matteo Concetta's Point Of View.

Caio's wing was clean, not a thing out of place in the dark-coloured space. He took his shoes off, holding the single shoe that Alessio gave him. My suitcase was sitting just inside the door, and Caio moved it after setting down my shoe. My other sock was toast, thanks to Alessio cutting it off my foot. He ruined my pants the same way, cutting up the side of the pant leg.

I looked down at my foot, the one with the shoe on it, and wondered how I was going to go about slipping it off.

"Hold on, I'll help you." Caio said, walking with my suitcase to another room.

"No, thank you. I've got it."

"Matteo let me—--"

"Caio, we both know what happened that night. Don't play that you don't. I don't want to be in this space with you longer than I need to be." I said. Not mincing my words for him.

"Matteo, don't be that way."

"I'll be any way I want Caio."

"You were just a kid then. You can't seriously still be holding on to the anger from that night." He hissed.

"I was sixteen Caio. It was only three years ago. Don't act like you haven't held onto something longer."

"Your mother and I are not together, and you don't have to worry about that happening, Matteo. She doesn't see me that way. Let go of your anger. It's not well placed anymore, if it ever was."

"Are you still in love with my mother?"

"Yes, I still carry feelings for your mother." He said, not even ashamed of it.

"Then I still carry my anger." I said flatly. His words were like nails on a chalkboard.

"Whatever, Matteo, I'm not interested in turning this into an argument with you. Your things are in the spare bedroom, you're welcome to it, until Alessio says you're welcome to your freedom again."

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my family ring and slipped it back on my pointer finger. My wallet and phone were next. I set them on the table when I reached it. Sitting down, I yanked my shoe off. Caio took it from me, setting it beside the other one. I didn't feel the need to bitch at him again. He knew how I felt.

Peeling off my other sock, I stood up and took it to the garbage, tossing it away. I grabbed the two sides of my pant leg and ripped it all the way up until it was just the waistband left. Despite my yanking and pulling on it, it didn't break or tear.

"Where are your scissors?"

"Here, let me." Caio said, pulling out a foldable knife. He sliced through the band like a hot knife through butter before closing it and putting it back in his pocket. Yanking down the other pant leg to my knee, I sat down again and pulled it completely off.

Caio spotted the tattoo on my foot and spoke. "Your mother isn't going to be thrilled about that."

"I'm sure she can overlook that one." I hissed, yanking off my sweater and exposing my sleeves of tattoos. "These, not so much."

"Christ. She's going to have a meltdown about those."

Without even thinking about it, I lifted the hem of my shirt to show him the rest. Dropping it a moment later. "Let's just say that's not all of them, OK?"

Caio shook his head, muttering in Italian as he walked away. I didn't get it. Caio had tattoos too, hell he was the first person I had seen with them. I hobbled to the spare bedroom, and someone nicely placed my suitcase on the bed. Grabbing the zipper, I opened it and dug through the case. The folder of papers inside were done and for Alessio, it was things that I finished in Italy, but I had no intention of letting the right hand there take credit for them.