Let Me Go, My Mafia Husband

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Chapter 240 Face To Face

Matteo's fists clenched as he stepped closer, his gaze deadly and unwavering.

"Get one thing straight, Tomas," he growled, his jaw tight as he glared menacingly at him. "Emily is mine. and anyone who dares to mess with her becomes my enemy. The whole world knows what Matteo Vinci does to his enemies-they don't last long." His voice was low but filled with an unmistakable threat, sending a shiver down Tomas's spine.Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.

Tomas fell to his knees, trembling, pleading desperately, "No, Mr. Vinci, I was manipulated. I swear, I'll never go near Emily again!"

He barely finished his sentence when Matteo's fist landed hard on his face, the punch so powerful that Tomas groaned in pain as he fell to the ground, the impact-leaving no doubt about the severity of Matteo's warning. "Don't you fucking dare say her name with that filthy mouth of yours," Matteo snarled, his voice sounding like a furious roar.

At the sound of the commotion, the cell guard hurried over, starting to open the door as he sensed things were about to escalate further. Matteo took a controlled breath, reigning in his fury, and straightened his suit jacket, dusting off his sleeves with a cold composure. Tomas, his face bruised and bloody, looked up, desperation in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he pleaded, his voice shaking. "I'll never do anything like that again. Please... forgive me."

The guard cleared his throat. "Sir, time's up. You need to leave," he reminded Matteo, casting a wary glance at Tomas's bloodied face.

Matteo nodded to the cell guard. "Alright," he replied, then turned back to Tomas with a deadly glare. *Keep that in mind if you want to live. It doesn't matter where you are; ending you is never difficult for me."

Tomas nodded frantically. "I'll remember, Mr. Vinci."

"Good," Matteo replied, his eyes narrowing before he turned and strode out of the cell. The guard followed, locking the door behind them.

After expressing his gratitude to the jail officer for his cooperation, Matteo left, his mind already focused on those responsible for forcing Emily away from him.

Matteo sat in his car, his mind racing as he drove straight to the home. On the way, he called his mother, only to find out she had already left for Florence with his father. His father was in the city and no one had informed him-not even his father-about his sudden trip. His mother told him that his father was in the city for some so-called urgent work and had left as soon as his tasks were complete. But, Matteo knew exactly what kind of work his father had rushed to attend to in Paris. He changed his route, now heading directly to the airport as he booked the next flight to Florence.

As soon as his flight landed, Matteo went straight to his father's home. Each passing moment fueled his anger, making the drive feel endless. His jaw clenched, and his fists tightened as the car covered the distance, his assistant steering them steadily toward his father's mansion.

As soon as the car came to a halt at the front of his father's mansion, Matteo yanked the door open and sprinted toward the entrance. No one stopped him as he rushed inside. His mother met him in the grand

hall of the mansion her face lighting un at the sight of him

Chapter 240 Face To Face

"Matteo! I didn't know you were coming!" she exclaimed, her voice warm and welcoming.

But Matteo's expression remained dark and cold as he cut her off with a single, pointed question. "Where is my

father?"

His mother's smile faltered. "He's in the study," she replied cautiously, recognizing that her son was not in the mood to exchange pleasantries.

Matteo darted straight to his father's study, pushing the door open without hesitation. Inside, he found his father and Bruno Vassalo seated comfortably, both savoring their scotch as if celebrating some hidden victory. The sight only fueled Matteo's anger further. Both heads turned toward Matteo as he barged in without knocking. The warm light of the room contrasted sharply with Matteo's icy demeanor, amplifying the tension that crackled in the air.

Instead of annoyance, his father grinned widely. "Matteo, come in, son. You're the only one missing here."

Matteo felt a surge of disgust at his father's fake display of affection. The anger bubbling inside him took control as he strode forward, grabbing the expensive twenty-year-old scotch bottle and slamming it to the floor. The shattering glass made both older men wince in confusion.

"What the fuck is that, Matteo?" his father snapped coldly.

"This is exactly what I wanted to ask you, Father. What the fuck was that?" Matteo shot back, his nostrils flaring as he struggled to control his breath. He locked eyes with his father, a challenging glare that dared him to respond.