LONELY HEARTS (COMPLETE)

Chapter 4: The Most Powerful Man in the City

Matteo stands in his study with utter disbelief across his face. Sure, he's gone to some lengths to woo a woman, but Gemma sure as hell was not worth the hassle. He clears the glasses from his desk and replays the encounter over and over. Where did he go wrong? How was someone so annoyed over some flowers? Matteo is annoyed by the fact that he's been rewinding the past hour over and over.

"Why am I even thinking about this?", he thought.

That night, Matteo laid in bed on his red silk sheets. He looks over at the alarm clock reading 2:45AM and his eye catches the gleam of the moon on his gun. He gets up and opens the french doors to his balcony and stretches out a yawn. He looks over the city that he sometimes protects, sometimes corrupts. He thinks about the drugs, the violence, the sex, the luxury of it all. He thinks about the money and thinks about how none of it makes him happy.

It wasn't his actual job he hated. Believe it or not, he enjoyed his job, he had no wish to leave. He just felt like a piece was missing, but couldn't figure out what it was. He just felt incomplete. After his parents died, Matteo assumed his role as head of the family and dove into his work. He recalled back to that fateful day.

It was Matteo's eighteenth birthday and he had no intention of being with his family. He wanted to spend that day with his friends and cousins. His parents had already reserved a spot for them at their favorite italian restaurant. Instead of cancelling, they decided to go anyway.

There Matteo was, dancing away at the club, drinking to excess. He swayed drunkenly to the music, oblivious that his life would change that night.

In the present, Matteo is still on his balcony. Gripping the railing, his memories of that night are hazy because of his drunken state. All he remembers is that he was greeted with guards and uncles, telling him that his parents had been gunned down. Everything happened so fast that night. One minute Matteo is having the time of his life and the next his life is turned upside down. He didn't even have time to process the chain of events, he had to immediately assume his role as head of the Ciccone family and start making decisions. Matteo closes his eyes and recalls him sitting in his father's chair and surrounded by people. His capos and consigliere in his ear and all he could see was a blur. From that day on, Matteo shut everyone out. His friends, cousins, even the associates that he had been friendly with. He clouded his mind with alcohol, one night stands, and work. He became ruthless, hellbent on revenge, and destroying those that were in his way.

He knew who killed his parents. It was their longtime rivals, the Russo family and Matteo had been seeking revenge since his eighteenth birthday. He was 33 now and he was frustrated with how long it's taken him to wipe out his enemies. He was impulsive by nature, he knew if he wanted to seek revenge, he would have to play this game smart. All these years he pretended to not know who was behind his family's destruction. Instead, he continued to befriend the Russo's as they wished their fake condolences and went so far as to throw flowers on the very grave they had dug. Matteo acted like he appreciated their efforts and even employed some of Russo's men to show there was no inkling of his knowledge. But Matteo knew the truth and that truth would come to a head this year.

He shakes his memories out of his mind and releases his grip from the railing. His knuckles were white from the constraint and in a fit of rage, Matteo punches the patio table. Blood drips around his hand, covering the rose tattoos. Several associates barricade through the door after hearing he noise.

"I'm fine", he grumbles.

The associates are confused but realize there's no danger. A couple of the associates leave while the rest wrap Matteo's wound and clean up the mess. After they've finished, he's left alone once again. He sits in his chair with his head in hands, slicking his hair away from his face.

There he was, alone physically and in his thoughts. No one would understand his pain or understand him. He was known as the most powerful man in the city, but then how come he felt so alone?

"I like being alone", he told himself.

But not even he seemed convinced.