[BL] The Mafia Boss Wants My Body

Chapter 242: Chapter 242: My Man Will Come Back to Me

Matteo’s bottom lip trembled again, a miserable pout forming on his face.

"But I want my baby back."

Mark looked at his brother’s utterly pitiful expression and couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, trying to ease the suffocating tension.

"Well..." he said with a grin. "If you’re that desperate, I can be your baby for tonight."

Matteo looked at him in complete disgust.

"Get out."

Mark burst into laughter.

He gently cupped Matteo’s cheek, deliberately softening his voice as he imitated Adrian.

"Baby..." he cooed dramatically. "Stop crying. Come here."

Matteo instantly stopped crying.

He blinked up at his brother in utter disgust.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Mark grinned, refusing to drop the act.

"Aww... baby, don’t be like that."

Matteo raised a large fist and weakly shoved Mark’s stomach.

"Shut the fuck up."

Mark laughed even harder, clutching his stomach.

A reluctant snort escaped Matteo before he quickly looked away, trying and failing to hide it.

Mark laughed softly, the playful shove successfully cutting through the thick layer of grief and easing Matteo’s pain, if only for a moment.

He leaned down, gently cupped Matteo’s face, and gave it a light shake.

"There he is," Mark said with a warm smile. "Listen to me, Teo. Adrian loves you far too much to stay away forever. He just needs time to heal from the damage this situation caused. Give him that time, and I believe he’ll find his way back to you."

Matteo searched his brother’s face, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Are you sure?"

Mark nodded without hesitation.

"Absolutely. Trust me."

He paused before adding gently,

"But whether he comes back or not... that’s a choice only Adrian can make. Your job is to wait if that’s what your heart wants... or, one day, find the strength to move on if he doesn’t."

Matteo slowly shook his head.

"I’ll wait," he said firmly. "No matter how long it takes."

A small smile touched Mark’s lips as he squeezed his brother’s shoulder.

"Everything will be alright, Teo.

"One way or another... you’ll get through this."

That night, the two brothers stayed awake talking until the early hours of the morning, their voices low in the quiet room. Mark completely set their birthday aside, putting the celebration out of his mind. Right now, nothing mattered more than making sure his twin was okay.

When exhaustion finally caught up with Matteo, Mark practically forced him to lie down on the bed. He stayed with him until his breathing evened out and sleep finally claimed him.

When the morning sun finally filtered through the heavy drapes, Matteo bolted upright with a sharp gasp, Adrian’s name tearing from his lips before he was even fully awake.

Mark, who had been sleeping beside him, jolted awake immediately. He leaned over and placed a firm, reassuring hand against Matteo’s chest.

"Whoa... easy, Teo," he said gently. "Breathe. It’s okay."

Before Matteo could fully clear the fog from his mind, a soft, tentative knock sounded at the bedroom door.

"Speak. What is it?" Matteo called from inside the room, his voice still rough with sleep.

The housemaid’s voice drifted through the woods.

"Sir, a courier is here to deliver a package addressed to you. He said it must be handed to you personally and requires your signature before he can release it."

Matteo froze. His expression changed instantly.

The final gift.

"Alright," he called back, his voice rough and hoarse. "Tell him I’ll be there in a minute."

Without wasting a second, Matteo threw on a shirt, and both he and Mark hurried downstairs.

The courier was waiting at the front entrance with several packages stacked neatly beside him.

"Good morning, sir," the courier greeted politely, extending a delivery form. "These require your personal signature before I can release them."

Matteo took the clipboard without a word and quickly signed the paperwork.

The courier nodded, thanked him, and stepped aside.

Matteo’s guards immediately collected the packages from the courier.

"Bring them into the living room," Matteo ordered tightly.

The men carried the packages into the spacious living room, carefully placing them on the glass coffee table before stepping back.

Matteo lowered himself onto the sofa, his eyes never leaving the delivery.

He reached for the cardboard box first, tearing through the tape with trembling hands.

Inside, resting neatly at the bottom, were the sleek black umbrella and the tailored jacket he had given Adrian on that fateful night.

Resting on top of the fabric was a small, elegant card. Matteo picked it up, his fingers tracing the familiar, neat handwriting.

I’m sorry... I couldn’t find the handkerchief.

Thank you for being my guardian angel all this time.

— Adrian

Matteo’s throat tightened, but he forced himself to set the note aside before reaching for one of the flat packages.

With trembling hands, he carefully tore away the brown wrapping paper.

Inside was a beautifully framed portrait.

Adrian had drawn him.

It captured Matteo asleep, his features softened by peaceful slumber. The gentle shading and warm tones made the portrait feel almost lifelike, every careful stroke revealing the love with which it had been created.

His chest tightened as he reached for the second package.

He peeled away the wrapping just as carefully.

Another framed portrait.

This one captured the two of them together.

It had clearly been drawn from one of their late nights after their intimacy. The room was dimly lit, and both of them were shirtless, their skin glowing softly beneath the warm light. Matteo was fast asleep, completely relaxed, while Adrian had painted himself turned slightly toward the viewer, a soft, breathtaking smile on his lips as he captured that quiet, precious moment they had shared together.

Mark leaned in for a closer look at the portrait, silently bracing himself for his brother to break down all over again.

But Matteo didn’t cry.

Instead, he stared at the frames as a sudden realization washed over him.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips.

Mark frowned.

"What’s so funny?" he asked cautiously, studying his brother’s face.

Matteo didn’t answer immediately.

He kept his eyes fixed on the portraits, a faint smile slowly tugging at his lips as a dangerous, unyielding determination returned to his dark eyes.

He finally understood.

Adrian returning the umbrella and the jacket meant he had known who Matteo really was all along.

He had known Matteo was the man behind that rainy night.

He had known Matteo had been quietly watching over him...

Protecting him... And carefully orchestrating the path that eventually brought them together.

But then another thought struck him.

"How...?" he whispered to himself.

"How did he know?"

His brow furrowed in confusion.

"I never told him."

He searched his memory, replaying every conversation they had ever shared, every argument, every confession.

Not once...

Not a single time...

Had he ever revealed the truth?

"So... how did you find out, Adrian?"

He leaned back against the sofa, his gaze fixed on the portrait of the two of them.

"I’m not going to be sad anymore," he murmured. "I’m going to fix myself first.

"And then...

"I’m going to fix this.

"My man will come back to me."

True to his word, Matteo refused to let the darkness consume him. Later that night, he went out with Mark to celebrate their birthday. Behind every smile and every toast, the grief was still there, but so was something new.

Hope.

The first week passed.

Adrian didn’t return to the estate, and his name was nowhere to be heard in the city’s social circles.

The second week came.

Adrian was still gone.

This time, Matteo didn’t launch a desperate search or send his men to tear the city apart. He chose to respect the boundary Adrian had set, focusing his energy on something else instead.

He officially checked himself into a private rehabilitation center, committing fully to a demanding detox and treatment program.

He endured every painful withdrawal.

He attended every therapy session.

He followed every medical instruction without complaint.

During the long, agonizing nights, he repeated the same promise to himself over and over again.

By the time my man comes back to me...

I want to be completely clean.

Life didn’t stop moving. The city kept turning, business required attention, and everyone moved forward.

By the third week, there was still no sign of Adrian.

His high-end art studio continued operating as usual. The staff reported to work every day, clients came and went, and business carried on as though nothing had changed.

Every time Matteo swallowed his pride and called Maya, she answered with the same calm, neutral voice.

"I haven’t seen him, Matteo. I haven’t heard from him either."

Frank and Charles gave him the same wall of silence.

No matter how many times he asked, they insisted they didn’t know where Adrian was. Their loyalty to their friend remained completely unshaken.

As the days passed, Matteo’s worry only grew.

It was no longer about wanting Adrian back in his bed.

He was genuinely terrified for his safety.

The silence was deafening.

Then, exactly one month after Adrian disappeared, Matteo sat at the head of the boardroom table, presiding over a high-stakes meeting with his senior executives.

Suddenly, the phone resting on the polished mahogany table vibrated beneath his hand.

A notification appeared on the screen.

Adrian has just shared a new post.

The entire boardroom faded into the background.

Matteo immediately unlocked his phone and opened Instagram.

His eyes locked hungrily onto the newly uploaded photo.

Adrian was sitting alone on a wooden bench, dressed entirely in black. A long black coat draped over his frame, matching the rest of his outfit. A black baseball cap was pulled low over his face, hiding most of his features, while vibrant ginger strands spilled out from beneath the brim.

His head was lowered as one hand loosely held an iced coffee, the golden afternoon sunlight filtering through the trees and casting soft shadows across him.

Matteo’s gaze lingered on the unmistakable splash of ginger hair.

He had dyed it.

His eyes slowly dropped to the caption.

Devil wears black. Guess I like the devil. 🖤🖤

Adrian had completely turned off the comment section, and his direct messages were strictly blocked, preventing anyone from reaching out to him.

Matteo sat rigidly in his executive chair...