[BL] The Mafia Boss Wants My Body-Chapter 42: Soft for Him, Cold for the World

Matteo leaned against the bedframe, a rare, boyish grin tugging at his lips. "Do you like it?" He stood up straight and turned in a slow circle. "How do I look?" 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

"You look perfect," Adrian said softly, his eyes admiring the change. "Like someone who could truly belong to me."

Matteo’s smile deepened. "Do I earn a reward for the effort?"

Adrian reached out, beckoning him closer. "Come here."

Matteo leaned down, and Adrian wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him into a sweet, deep morning kiss. When they finally broke apart, Matteo rested his forehead against Adrian’s.

"Good morning, baby," Matteo whispered.

"Good morning," Adrian replied.

"Come on," Matteo said, patting Adrian’s hand gently. "Go take a shower so we can go downstairs for breakfast."

Adrian hesitated, pulling the silk sheet a little higher. "No... I’m shy."

Matteo let out a soft laugh, catching Adrian’s gaze with a look of pure affection. "You’re my man, Rian. You shouldn’t be shy around me after everything."

Adrian narrowed his eyes. "I’m not your man. Stop being delusional."

Matteo leaned in, a mischievous glint in his gaze. "You’re not my man? That’s strange, considering the way you were moaning my name last night." He began to tease Adrian, his voice dropping into a husky mimicry. "Matteo, please... go deeper... I want more..."

"I did not!" Adrian shouted, his face turning a deep shade of crimson as he grabbed a pillow and threw it at Matteo’s laughing face.

Matteo caught the pillow easily, his smirk widening. "So what happened last night, then? What does all that mean if you aren’t mine yet?"

Adrian scrambled out of bed, using his hands to cover himself as he rushed toward the bathroom. "I don’t know! Call it whatever you want, but I’m not your man yet. You haven’t even asked me properly!"

Matteo sat back on the edge of the bed, watching him run. "If I asked you properly, would you say yes?"

"Ask first!" Adrian shouted back before slamming the bathroom door shut.

Matteo stayed there for a moment, his laughter filling the quiet room.

Once Adrian finished his shower and stepped out, Matteo was waiting with a plush towel. He took over, gently drying Adrian’s skin and then carefully blow-drying his hair until it was soft and perfect. He handed Adrian the outfit he had picked out, a coordinated look that complemented his own. As Adrian dressed, Matteo leaned in and gave him a final mist of his expensive cologne.

"Now you smell like me," Matteo murmured, satisfied.

"Possessive," Adrian teased.

Matteo looked at him. "Kiss me," he said softly.

Adrian didn’t hesitate. He leaned in and kissed him.

After they pulled apart, Matteo’s expression shifted. He straightened his vintage shirt and wiped the lingering softness from his eyes. "I need to change my face," he muttered, his voice regaining its usual steel. "It’s wrong for me to look this soft in front of my men. They won’t know what to do with a happy boss."

Adrian looked at him, shaking his head at the sudden return of the "Mafia Boss" persona. "You’re unbelievable."

With a final glance in the mirror, they stepped out of the room together. As they descended the grand staircase, the atmosphere in the house shifted. Everybodyguard along the hallway and at the foot of the stairs snapped to attention, their heads bowing in precise, silent respect.

"Good morning, Boss," the voices echoed through the foyer, one after another, as they passed.

Matteo didn’t acknowledge them with a word. His face was a frozen landscape of authority as he led Adrian toward the dining room. Inside, Tony and Mark were already seated, the quiet clinking of silverware against porcelain filling the space.

"Morning, Matteo," Tony said, his voice neutral.

"Morning, Teo," Mark added, looking up with a knowing glint in his eyes.

Adrian offered a polite morning to Mark, but he stayed quiet as Matteo reached out and pulled a chair for him. As Adrian sat, he winced slightly, the lingering ache from the night before catching him off guard.

Matteo leaned in immediately, his voice dropping to a low, private murmur that only Adrian could hear. "Are you okay?"

"I’m fine," Adrian replied softly, adjusting himself.

Throughout the meal, Matteo maintained his usual cold demeanor in the room, yet his actions told a different story. Before Adrian could reach for anything, Matteo was already placing it in front of him, his movements smooth and attentive. He played the part of the ruthless leader, but his focus never truly left Adrian.

Tony watched the exchange with simmering bitterness, his eyes tracking every small gesture of care. His grip tightened slightly around his fork as he tried to understand what was so special about Adrian that made Matteo act like this at the table.

Mark, sensing the tension, kept his focus on his breakfast, wisely staying out of it.

Adrian finished eating first, but stayed, talking to Matteo as they leaned close, whispering to each other.

The quiet was suddenly shattered by the sharp chime of the doorbell. A maid hurried to answer it, and a moment later, the heavy front doors swung open.

It was Marco, the eldest Marcone brother.

The air in the room turned frigid. Matteo’s posture stiffened instantly. He turned to Adrian, his voice firm but hushed. "Go upstairs for a moment. I’ll join you soon."

"I need to get to the studio," Adrian argued gently.

"Wait a little," Matteo said, his eyes flicking toward the hallway. "I want to go with you... I’ll wait until you’re done and pick you up so we can start our journey. Just wait for me upstairs."

Adrian studied the tension in Matteo’s face and knew it wasn’t a request. "Okay," he whispered, standing and heading for the stairs just as Marco entered the room.

The bodyguards bowed to the eldest brother, and Mark and Tony stood to greet him. But the air between Matteo and Marco was thick with a long-standing rivalry. They didn’t look like brothers; they looked like two kings staring across a battlefield.

Instead of a greeting, Matteo’s voice cut through the room like a blade. "Why are you here?"

Marco let out a dry, humorless chuckle, adjusting his coat. "You could at least offer me a seat, little brother."

Matteo opened his mouth to deliver a sharp retort, but Mark stepped in quickly, trying to diffuse the bomb. "Join me for breakfast, Marco. There’s plenty."

"Thank you, Mark," Marco said, his eyes never leaving Matteo.

Mark shot Matteo a pointed look, silently pleading with him to calm down.

Matteo didn’t say another word.

He turned on his heel and walked into the living room...