CHAPTER 3: THE MAN BEHIND THE BRUISES
Chicago looked different at night when Matteo Valente was angry.
Not because the city changed.
But because people did.
Doors locked faster. Conversations ended sooner. Names were spoken softer, if at all. In the underworld, Matteo’s silence had always been more terrifying than his violence.
Tonight, he wasn’t silent.
He was precise.
Inside Valente Tower’s private war room, screens lined the walls—financial records, surveillance feeds, internal staff logs. Everything that moved through his empire left a trace.
And Matteo was following every trace back to its source.
Arya Monroe’s file sat open on the main screen.
Employee ID: Wardrobe Suite Contractor – Event Division
Access Level: Temporary Staff
Entry Record: 17:02
Exit Record: ——
Matteo stared at the missing exit time.
“That’s wrong,” he said flatly.
His assistant stood behind him, tense.
“We checked twice. She never logged out through the main system.”
Matteo didn’t blink.
“Then she left through a system that doesn’t report to you.”
Silence followed.
That was worse.
Arya wasn’t there.
He had left her under protection in the upper suite.
Two guards outside.
One inside the hallway.
No one entered Valente Tower without Matteo knowing.
Unless they were already inside before he started looking.
Matteo turned away from the screens.
“Bring me the staff roster for the wardrobe suite,” he said.
Within seconds, names appeared.
He scanned them once.
Then stopped.
A name.
One he didn’t recognize.
But the system did.
DANTE RUSSO – Private Consultant (External Liaison / Event Security Integration)
Matteo’s expression changed.
Not shock.
Recognition.
Slow, controlled recognition.
“Russo…” he repeated.
His assistant shifted uncomfortably.
“You know him, sir?”
Matteo didn’t answer immediately.
Because he did.
Everyone in his world did.
Dante Russo wasn’t officially part of any family.
Which made him more dangerous than those who were.
He operated in the gaps between power structures.
Where rules didn’t apply.
Where violence didn’t need permission.
Matteo looked at the file again.
Then closed it.
“I want everything on him,” he said.
A pause.
“Everything he’s touched in the last six months.”
Back in the suite, Arya stood by the window.
She hadn’t moved much since Matteo left.
The city lights outside flickered like distant warnings.
Behind her, one of the guards shifted position.
She noticed immediately.
Not fear.
Awareness.
That was what survival had taught her.
You don’t relax in safe rooms.
You just wait for the next one to become unsafe.
A soft knock came at the door.
The guard spoke.
“Ma’am, Mr. Valente instructed—”
The door opened before he finished.
Matteo stepped in.
No announcement.
No hesitation.
Arya turned toward him instantly.
“You shouldn’t be moving like this,” she said quietly.
He didn’t respond.
Not because he ignored her.
Because something in him had already moved past conversation.
His eyes met hers.
Then dropped—briefly—to her arm.
The bruises were still there.
Less hidden now.
More real.
Arya noticed the shift in his expression.
“What did you find?” she asked.
Matteo stepped closer.
“Dante Russo,” he said.
Her reaction was immediate.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
But her body changed.
A tightening.
A freeze.
A memory trying to stay buried.
Matteo saw it.
“That’s him,” he said.
Arya shook her head slightly.
“No—don’t—”
But the words failed.
Because denial stopped working the moment truth entered the room.
Matteo studied her carefully.
“You know him,” he said.
Arya looked away.
A long silence stretched between them.
Then, barely audible:
“…yes.”
That single word carried more weight than anything she had said before.
Matteo’s jaw tightened.
“Talk.”
Arya swallowed.
Her hands trembled slightly at her sides.
“It started with work,” she said quietly. “He wasn’t supposed to be there full-time. Just consulting. Security coordination for events.”
Matteo listened without interrupting.
“That’s how it always starts,” he said coldly.
Arya ignored that.
Or maybe she agreed.
“I didn’t report to him,” she continued. “Not officially.”
A pause.
Then:
“But he made sure I did anyway.”
Matteo’s eyes narrowed.
“How.”
Arya hesitated.
That hesitation told him everything.
Still, she forced the words out.
“Access control shifts. Schedule changes. Locked systems I couldn’t override without his approval.”
A pause.
“And then… meetings.”
Matteo stepped closer.
“Meetings,” he repeated.
Arya’s voice dropped.
“In private rooms. After hours. When no one else was around.”
The air in the room changed instantly.
Matteo’s expression went still.
Dangerously still.
Arya continued, quieter now.
“At first, it was just comments. About mistakes. About performance.”
She paused.
Her voice tightened slightly.
“Then it stopped being about work.”
Matteo’s hands curled slightly at his sides.
“And the bruises?” he asked.
Arya flinched at the word.
She didn’t answer immediately.
Then:
“I stopped reporting things.”
A pause.
“That made it worse.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Real.
Matteo exhaled slowly through his nose.
Controlled.
Barely.
“You should have told someone,” he said.
Arya laughed faintly.
Not humor.
Not bitterness.
Something emptier.
“Who?” she asked.
That question hit harder than anything else.
Matteo didn’t answer.
Because in his world, there should have been someone.
But there wasn’t always someone.
A notification flashed on Matteo’s phone.
One of his men.
RUSSO LOCATION CONFIRMED – PRIVATE CLUB, RIVER DISTRICT
Matteo looked at the screen.
Then at Arya.
She noticed immediately.
“No,” she said.
Just one word.
But it carried everything.
Fear.
Memory.
Resistance.
Matteo closed his phone.
“I didn’t ask,” he said.
Arya stepped forward slightly.
“Matteo—listen to me.”
He looked at her.
For the first time since this began, his voice softened—but only slightly.
“Why are you still protecting him?”
That question broke something in her expression.
Because it was the wrong question.
Or maybe the hardest one.
“I’m not protecting him,” she said quietly.
A pause.
“I’m surviving him.”
Matteo stared at her for a long moment.
Then turned toward the door.
Arya moved immediately.
Grabbing his sleeve.
Her grip wasn’t strong.
But it was desperate.
“Don’t go,” she said.
Matteo stopped.
Looked at her hand.
Then at her face.
“You think I’m going to let this continue?” he asked.
Her voice cracked slightly.
“If you go there… it won’t just be him.”
That made him pause.
She continued.
“There are people connected to him. Powerful people. People you don’t see.”
Matteo’s expression hardened again.
“I see everything,” he said.
Arya shook her head.
“No,” she whispered.
“You don’t.”
Silence.
And for the first time…
Matteo considered that she might be right.
He gently removed her hand from his sleeve.
Not harshly.
Not coldly.
Carefully.
Then:
“Stay here,” he said.
Arya shook her head immediately.
“Matteo—”
But he had already turned away.
At the door, he stopped once.
Not looking back.
His voice was low.
Final.
“If what you told me is true…”
A pause.
“Then he already lost the moment he touched you.”
And he walked out.
Arya stood still.
Listening to the silence after him.
Because for the first time…
she wasn’t sure what scared her more.
May you like
Dante Russo finding out Matteo was coming…
or Matteo finding out what Dante had really built around her.
