The Underbosses Chef [M/M]

43 - Forty - Three - Matteo Concetta's Point Of View.

Ilya had it coming. As I stomped down the hall towards his place, Caio was right behind me trying to talk me out of this. I was going to talk him out of this. He didn't need to be getting involved in this.

"Matteo, Amore. Wait. Can't we talk about this later once you've had a chance to process your anger with Ilya?"

"No. He needs to know how angry I am with his choice to do this!"

Vito opened the door before I could even knock, and Ilya was sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in his hands. He looked less happy to see me than normal, probably because he knew why I was here.

"I'm going to guess you're not here to watch more tv with me," Ilya said.

"Yeah, not likely." I snapped at him.

"Tone down the attitude, Vito junior. I get enough of that from him." Ilya hissed, being spicy in his own right.

"Just what the hell are you thinking, refusing your treatments unless you can help and get involved? Did you fall and bump your fucking head, Ilya? You are not fit for this!" I yelled, getting heated.

"I don't know who you think you are to speak to me that way, Matteo." Ilya hissed and narrowed his eyes at me.

"Your fucking friend, someone who cares about you! That's who the fuck I think I am!"

Vito stood between Ilya and I when he stood up and crossed, his arms closing space between us. "Did you two want to mellow out a little? Or are you going to throw some hands?" Vito asked, looking frustrated.

"Tell your boyfriend that his brain isn't fit for field work!" I yelled at Vito.

"He isn't my fucking boyfriend." Ilya snapped.

Caio was trying to keep me back from Ilya. And Vito was blocking Ilya from me. Vito moved right out of the way, and Caio sighed, moving too.

"You are going to get hurt, and I will feel responsible because you tried to help, for my sake, Ilya." I said truthfully, and Ilya sighed.

"I get that you're worried about me, Matteo. But again, I am a functioning nutcase. I am perfect for this, and I won't feel so useless here. I am aware that this all could go wrong." Ilya bitched.

"Then why? If you know that it could go wrong, why the fuck would you even risk it?"

Ilya looked frustrated and pulled a hand through his hair. "Matteo, If they get their hands on you, you will be no better than I am, and I refuse to let that happen to you. If I kill them myself, then I will be content that they are dead and won't be coming back. I won't have to sneak out to make sure."

"Then take me with you, so that I can watch your back."

"Absolutely not. Your father will watch my back, and If I go nuts, he will deal with me."

"Ilya you don't mean—--"

"If it comes down to that. But let's just hope for the best."

"Ilya, no! I refuse that option right now. Tell me you won't do that Vito, swear to might right now that you won't kill him if he—-"

"Sorry, kid, Ilya and I have a deal. Long before you were back, and your brother knows about it, too." Vito said, looking at me, and his lips were drawn tight.

"I can't fucking believe you, the fucking both of you! You're perfect for each other! Fucking morons!" I hissed, completely pissed off with them both. I went after Vito, in mindless anger, and I should have seen Ilya coming, but I didn't until he yanked me off Vito and pinned me to the floor, his knee on my spine.