[BL] The Mafia Boss Wants My Body-Chapter 7: The Night They Meet Again

He pulled it out and frowned at the unknown number.

[Unknown]: Hi. This is Matteo, your sweetest nightmare.

Adrian stared at the message on his screen, his brows pulling together in confusion.

I never gave him my number, he thought. And I definitely never called him.

So how the hell did he get it?

The breath slowly left Adrian’s lungs.

He ran a hand through his hair, a chill creeping down his spine. The city suddenly felt much smaller than it had a few minutes ago.

This isn’t a coincidence, Adrian thought.

Matteo didn’t just book a portrait session.

Somehow, Matteo had tracked him down.

Without a second thought, Adrian’s thumb hovered over the screen. He didn’t reply. He didn’t demand to know how Matteo got his information. He simply tapped the contact and hit Block.

Then he dropped the phone into his bag as if he didn’t want to see it again and turned toward the window, focusing on the city rushing past outside.

"Adrian? Is everything okay?" Kate asked, her voice full of concern.

"I’m fine, Kate," Adrian said shortly. "Just... a long day."

Meanwhile, back in the penthouse, Matteo stood beside the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city stretched beneath him, but his attention was on the phone in his hand.

He had been waiting for a reply.

When none came, he tried sending another message.

The screen flashed with an error.

A small red mark appeared.

Matteo stared at it for a moment before he realized Adrian had blocked him.

Instead of the anger his men usually feared, a slow smile appeared on Matteo’s face. A quiet chuckle escaped him.

"A block?" he murmured to the empty room. "Bold."

He glanced at the phone in his hand, clearly amused.

"This just got more interesting."

He turned away from the window and began getting dressed, his movements sharp and purposeful.

A knock sounded on the door.

"Come in," Matteo said.

His lead guard stepped inside and stopped near the door, waiting for instructions.

"Change of plans," Matteo said, his voice returning to its usual authority. "We’re heading out. I have a meeting with my father first. After that, I’m meeting Luca at the club."

He adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, his expression calm but focused.

"We have business to discuss," he added, "and a debt that needs a more... personal touch."

The guard nodded once. "Understood, boss."

He stepped back and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

In the hallway, he immediately relayed the order to the rest of the security team. The message spread quickly through the corridor.

When Matteo stepped out of the suite a few minutes later, the men waiting outside straightened at once and bowed their heads respectfully.

"Yes, sir," the guards responded in unison, their boots echoing against the marble floor as they stepped aside to clear his path.

Matteo walked past them without slowing, his expression calm and unreadable as he headed toward the private elevator.

Once the doors closed, he adjusted his watch and leaned back slightly. Adrian probably thought blocking his number would end things.

It didn’t.

To Matteo, it was nothing more than a small obstacle. The artist simply didn’t understand yet.

When a Marcone set their sights on someone, walking away was never that simple.

Adrian returned to the studio and tried to distract himself by finishing the last tasks of the day. He was reaching for his coat when his phone buzzed.

It was Charles.

Before Adrian could even say hello, Charles spoke, his voice rushed and anxious.

"Adrian, don’t say no. Just, promise me you won’t say no first."

Adrian sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "What is it, Charles? Just tell me."

"My colleague is throwing a huge birthday party tonight," Charles said quickly. "The whole company is going. I already convinced Frank to come, and I want you there too. Seriously, Adrian, the girls in our marketing department are gorgeous. Just come out once again. Maybe you’ll finally meet someone you like."

Adrian opened his mouth to refuse. The last thing he wanted was another crowded, dark room after the nightmare of a few nights ago. But the memory of his promise to be "strong" and his friends’ constant worry weighed on him. He couldn’t hide in his studio forever.

"Fine," Adrian muttered, defeated. "Send me the location. I’ll be there later."

After he hung up, Adrian slumped into his desk chair. A bitter, hollow laugh escaped his throat. Why was he so uniquely unlucky? His friends went out every night, drifting through clubs and flings without a scratch, yet the one time he tried to "live," he ended up in a tiger’s den.

Am I truly cursed? He wondered, staring at the charcoal stains on his fingers. Is this some kind of karma for a past life I don’t remember?

The familiar weight of grief tightened in his chest. Memories of everything he had lost pressed in on him again. His eyes stung, and for a moment he felt like sitting down and crying. But he clenched his teeth and forced himself to take a steady breath.

"Not again," he whispered to the empty studio. "You have to be strong, Adrian. It’s just a birthday party."

Adrian finished packing up the studio. Just before leaving, his phone buzzed with a message from Charles. It was the location for the party.

Adrian looked at it, let out a quiet sigh, and slipped his phone back into his bag.

Meanwhile, Matteo had finished his meeting with his father and was leaving the estate. His expression was a mask of cold, professional indifference.

He didn’t stay long. There were still things he needed to handle tonight.

He got into his black sedan and told the driver to head for the club.

When Matteo arrived, the club was already loud with music and movement. The bass vibrated through the floor, and the dance floor was packed.

Matteo didn’t pay attention to the crowd. He walked straight toward the glass-walled VIP section where Luca was waiting.

His men followed closely behind him, spreading out as they moved. Their eyes stayed on the crowd, watching every corner of the club so their boss could handle his business without interruption.

Adrian’s mood changed while he was still in the car. His phone buzzed with a message from his father.

He opened it, and his chest tightened.

His father would soon be turning sixty. A birthday party was already being planned, but the message made one thing clear, Adrian was not invited. In fact, his father didn’t want him there at all.

It had always been like this. To his father, Adrian was a curse, someone who brought nothing but bad luck.

Pain flickered in Adrian’s eyes as he finished reading the message.

When the car stopped, he stepped out and walked toward the bar near the entrance of the club. He checked his watch and made a quiet promise to himself.

One hour.

He would stay for just one hour, only to keep Charles happy.

Adrian wiped his eyes, ran a hand through his hair to fix it, and then walked into the club.

Adrian stepped inside the club, and the flashing lights instantly made it harder for him to see. The room was dim, filled with moving bodies and shifting shadows.