[BL] The Mafia Boss Wants My Body

Chapter 103: I’m Scared… But I Won’t Let Go

He slipped a finger under the seal and drew out the crisp, engraved paper. His gaze moved over the sharp, elegant script... then hardened.

This wasn’t a warning.

It wasn’t a threat from a rival.

It was an invitation.

From Mr. Grayson.

Adrian’s father.

Matteo glanced down at Adrian, his head resting heavily against his shoulder, his breathing slow and steady. He looked back at the card, his expression tensing slightly.

Why would he want to see me?

The silence in the car felt suffocating.

He turned the card slowly in his hand, his mind caught in a storm of doubt.

Should he tell Adrian... or not?

The questions clawed at him, refusing to settle.

In the end, he slipped the card back into his suit and made a quiet decision.

Tomorrow will decide.

When the car finally pulled up to the estate, everything that followed blurred together. The shift from the cool night air to the warmth of the house passed in a haze of movement. Getting Adrian inside was a struggle, the alcohol had turned his limbs to lead, his head lolling helplessly against Matteo’s collarbone.

Halfway to the bedroom, Adrian suddenly felt sick. His stomach turned, and he bent over, coughing as if he was about to throw up, but nothing came out.

Matteo didn’t panic. "Take it easy, baby," he said softly, quickly supporting him and holding him upright.

The bodyguards rushed over to help. Together, they helped Adrian stand and carefully carried him inside.

Matteo kept a firm hold on him, gently rubbing his back until he calmed down.

"I’ve got you," Matteo murmured.

After they got into the room, the bodyguard gave a respectful bow and left.

Matteo carried Adrian into the bathroom and gently removed his clothes with careful, practiced movements.

When the warm water from the shower touched his skin, Adrian stirred slightly, a small sign of awareness returning.

Matteo washed him quietly, his touch slow and gentle. In the process, Adrian threw up, and afterward his body relaxed a little.

Once he was dried and dressed in soft cotton, Matteo laid him beneath the cool sheets. Adrian was drifting, his eyelids fluttering faintly as sleep slowly took over.

"Baby?" Adrian mumbled. "Do you... Do you love me?"

Matteo lowered his head, his forehead brushing against Adrian’s. He kissed him softly, letting the moment linger.

"I love you, Rian," he murmured. "More than you know."

Adrian stirred, his hands searching blindly until they found Matteo’s shirt, gripping it tightly.

"You have to love me," he murmured his voice trembling. "Don’t... don’t ever forget me."

Matteo smiled gently, tucking a lock of hair away from Adrian’s forehead. He figured it was the alcohol speaking, stripping away his usual control.

"Go to sleep, Rian," he murmured. "I’m not going anywhere."

Adrian’s gaze sharpened for a fleeting second, his eyes searching Matteo’s. "You..."

"You what, Rian?" Matteo coaxed, waiting for the rest of the sentence. "What are you saying?"

Adrian hovered between wakefulness and dreams, his lips parting as if to speak, but the words never came. The light in his eyes dimmed. With a long, trembling breath, he drifted into a deep, consuming sleep.

Matteo watched him for a long time, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. When he was finally certain that Adrian was asleep, he stood up, his face hardening as the mask of the lover fell away to reveal the strategist. He stepped out of the room, his footsteps silent as he made his way down the hall toward Mark’s room.

He knocked once before pushing it open.

Mark had just stepped out of the bathroom, a towel draped around his shoulders.

He paused slightly when he saw Matteo.

Matteo moved inside and sat down.

Mark got dressed in silence, pulling on his nightwear before walking over and sitting across from him.

The moment he met Matteo’s eyes, he frowned. "What’s the card about?"

Matteo didn’t hesitate. "It’s from Mr. Grayson. Adrian’s father. He invited me."

Mark raised a brow. "Then why do you look so troubled?"

"I don’t know," Matteo admitted. "It just feels... wrong. I don’t have a good feeling about this."

"You won’t know until you step into his den," Mark replied calmly. "It can’t be that bad. Can it?"

Matteo didn’t answer. He turned toward the window, his gaze fixed on the night outside.

He stayed like that for a long moment, the silence stretching heavy between them until he finally turned back, his eyes searching.

"I need you to be honest with me," Matteo said, "If you were a man like Grayson... if your son or daughter chose someone like me, someone with my past, my reputation, would you allow it?"

Mark shook his head. "I can’t answer that. I don’t get to choose for my children. Their choices, their happiness... they have the right to decide who they want to be with."

"Mark," Matteo called softly.

"Yes, bro?"

"I’m scared," Matteo admitted quietly, the words heavy in the room. "But I won’t give up on him... not unless he’s the one who walks away."

Matteo exhaled and shook his head, brushing off the heaviness in his thoughts.

"Enough about me. Tell me... what was that earlier between you and Charles?"

Mark stood up so quickly his chair scraped harshly against the floor. "I’m going to sleep, Matteo."

"Charles is a good guy," Matteo said, ignoring the dismissal. "He’s calm. Balanced."

"You know I’m straight," Mark snapped.

Matteo didn’t react. He looked at him. "There’s nothing wrong with wanting something new. Gender doesn’t define love, Mark. If you feel something... don’t ignore it because of a label."

"And what about my girlfriend?" Mark asked.

"Why keep her?" Matteo countered, his voice edged with cold logic. "You’ve been together for years. She refuses to marry you, always hiding behind excuses, blaming me, blaming the family.

"She knows you’re the one she’s marrying, not me or the family. So why does she keep hiding behind that excuse?"

"She doesn’t want a husband... she wants an ATM. She’s never afraid to ask for new cars, expensive shopping, or money, but when it comes to marriage, suddenly she’s scared. I’m tired of you defending her."

Matteo stood and stepped closer, his gaze locking onto Mark’s.

"She’s lying to you," he said coldly. "She’s using you because you love her too much to see it. Go for someone who actually sees you. Charles is a good man... think about it."

Matteo walked to the door. "Good night," he said, then opened it and stepped out.

Mark didn’t move. He remained standing in the center of the room, staring at the closed door long after Matteo’s footsteps had faded.

"Good night," Mark whispered into the empty air.

Mark shook his head, rejecting the idea. Stella, the woman he had loved for years, would never use him. The thought alone felt like a betrayal of their past.

He’s overthinking it, Mark reassured himself, holding onto that belief tightly.

Needing to prove Matteo wrong, he reached for his phone. His thumb hovered over Stella’s contact for a moment before he pressed call.

"Honey?" Stella’s voice came through, soft and warm as she picked up.

"I missed you," Mark said, his voice softer than he intended.

There was a small pause on the other end, then Stella’s gentle laugh came through the phone.

"I missed you too," she replied.

Mark smiled, running a hand through his hair as he exhaled. For a moment, he hesitated, then pushed the thought aside.

"I’ll be home tomorrow," he said. "If you’re not busy... come over."

His voice lowered just a little.

"I want to spend some time with you."

"Of course, honey," Stella replied immediately. "I’ll be there.

They chatted for a few minutes, the easy rhythm of their conversation washing away the sting of Matteo’s accusations. As the call drew to a close, Mark felt a renewed sense of security.

"Goodnight, baby," he murmured.

"Goodnight, love," Stella responded.

"I love you," Mark said.

"I love you more," she replied.

The line went dead. Mark smiled to himself, placing the phone on his nightstand. See? he thought, closing his eyes. Matteo is just paranoid. With that comforting delusion, he climbed into bed and drifted off into a restless sleep.

Down the hall, Matteo returned to his suite. He moved with practiced quiet, slipping into bed beside Adrian. He pulled him close, tucking Adrian’s head against his chest, his hand resting protectively over his heart.

Sleep didn’t come easily. He lay there, staring into the darkness, his mind already turning, calculating every possible outcome of the meeting with Grayson.

Only when exhaustion finally caught up with him did he drift off.

The next morning, Mark woke up early. He called Tony...