[BL] The Mafia Boss Wants My Body

Chapter 243: Chapter 243: Not Every Scar Is Visible

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, staring at the screen as a slow, genuine smile spread across his face, completely oblivious to the confused looks from the executives seated around him.

He didn’t care about the cryptic caption.

He didn’t care that Adrian had made himself unreachable.

All that mattered, all that filled his chest with an overwhelming sense of relief, was that Adrian was out there somewhere...

Breathing. Living. Healing.

Safe.

A quiet smile lingered on Matteo’s lips.

With a steady thumb, he double-tapped the screen, leaving a silent heart on the photo.

Then he locked his phone.

Just wait for me, my spoiled brat.

I’ll become someone worthy...

That perfect man you won’t be able to resist when our paths cross again.

Matteo shifted his attention back to the boardroom presentation. As his executives continued their briefing, he stole a quick glance at the digital clock on the wall, silently counting down the hours until his next appointment with his therapist. He was counting down the minutes, eager to continue the mental work he had committed to.

A few minutes later, his phone buzzed softly in his pocket.

A text message from Mark.

Did you see Adrian’s new post?

Matteo waited until the meeting officially came to an end and his executives excused themselves.

Only then did he step out of the conference room and walk down the long, glass-walled corridor toward his private office, the steady click of his polished shoes echoing across the marble floor.

He pulled out his phone and typed a brief reply.

Yeah. I saw it.

Mark’s response came in almost instantly:

Are you okay, Teo?

Settling into the heavy leather chair behind his desk, Matteo watched as his staff quietly placed the meeting documents before him. They gave a respectful bow before silently excusing themselves, leaving him alone in the office.

Matteo leaned back in his chair and looked out through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the sprawling city below, a profound sense of peace settling over him for the first time in a month.

He lifted his phone and typed with steady fingers.

I’m perfectly fine. Honestly... just knowing he’s out there, living his life, makes me happy.

A moment later, Mark replied.

Then maybe it’s time you started living yours too.

Matteo leaned back, a soft smile playing on his lips as he read his twin’s message.

He quickly typed a reply.

Don’t worry, Mark.

I am living.

Mark’s response came almost immediately.

What time is your therapy appointment today?

5 PM, Matteo replied.

Alright. I’ll meet you there, Mark texted back. I want to speak with your therapist about your recovery and see what else we can do to support you.

Matteo smiled at his brother’s unwavering loyalty.

Alright, sir. See you then.

He locked his phone and pulled a stack of business documents toward him.

For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t working to bury his emotions or distract himself from the pain.

He was working for himself...

For his future...

And for the man he was determined to win back the right way.

Meanwhile, back at Mark and Charles’s place, the two of them were curled up together on the living room sofa, a movie playing quietly on the television.

It should have been a peaceful evening.

But Mark couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was off.

For the past hour, he’d noticed Charles acting strangely.

He kept shifting in his seat.

His hand drifted to his pocket every few minutes.

And whenever Mark looked at him, Charles’s attention seemed to be anywhere but the television.

Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Mark turned toward his partner, studying him closely.

"Hey, sweetheart..." he began. "Have you, by any chance, spoken to Adrian, or..."

"Honey, seriously?" Charles cut in before Mark could finish, throwing his hands up in mild frustration. "How many times do I have to tell you? I haven’t spoken to him. None of us has heard a single thing from him."

He pouted, his lower lip jutting out in a deep, defensive sulk.

"Why do you keep looking at me like you don’t trust me? It feels like you’re interrogating me every single day."

The moment the words left Charles’s mouth, guilt settled heavily in Mark’s chest.

He hadn’t even realized it.

Somewhere along the way, Matteo’s constant fear and paranoia had begun to seep into his own relationship.

"Hey... I’m sorry, babe," Mark murmured as he wrapped his arms around Charles’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight, apologetic hug. "I really am. Of course I trust you. I was only hoping that maybe... just maybe... Adrian had reached out to you. I never meant to make you feel like I was questioning you."

Charles let out a quiet sigh, his body gradually relaxing against Mark’s chest as he returned the embrace.

"It’s okay," he murmured. "I just wish I had answers for you too."

As they held each other in the quiet room, a sharp buzz cut through the silence.

Charles’s phone, resting face-down on the coffee table now, vibrated with an incoming text.

He pulled back slightly from the embrace and reached for it. Turning the phone over, his eyes briefly flickered across the notification on the lock screen.

His expression remained unreadable.

Without opening the message, he locked the screen again and casually tossed the phone back into his pocket.

Mark watched the movement out of the corner of his eye but chose not to press. Instead, he glanced down at his watch and realized the digits were rapidly approaching late afternoon. He stood up from the sofa, smoothing down his shirt.

"It’s time," Mark said, leaning down to place a soft kiss on Charles’s lips. "Babe, I have to go meet Matteo for his therapy appointment. I won’t be gone too long, okay?"

"Alright, babe," Charles replied with a warm smile, leaning in to return the kiss. "Be safe."

"I will." Mark nodded, grabbed his jacket from the armchair, and headed for the front door.

Outside, he gestured to Tony, who had been waiting patiently by the entrance.

"Let’s go, Tony."

Together, they walked down the front steps toward the waiting car, leaving the house behind as Mark headed off to support his twin.

Matteo arrived at the clinic well ahead of schedule. Wanting to get the session over with, he went straight into the private office.

By the time Mark’s car pulled into the parking lot and he made his way to the private office, Matteo’s session was already coming to an end.

When the door finally opened, Mark found his brother buttoning the cuffs of his shirt, looking tired but noticeably calmer than he had been weeks before.

The therapist gestured for both brothers to take a seat in the leather chairs across from his desk.

Once they were seated, Mark leaned forward, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Doctor, I wanted to ask... is Matteo responding well to the treatment? Are we making real progress?"

The therapist looked from one twin to the other before taking a slow, measured breath and folding his hands neatly on the desk.

"Physically, his detox is progressing well," he began. "But if I’m being completely honest, psychologically, we’re not where I’d like us to be."

He glanced at Matteo before continuing.

"Mr. Marcone has become very good at masking his emotions. On the surface, he appears calm and cooperative, but beneath that composure, he’s carrying an enormous amount of unresolved emotional pain."

He paused briefly.

"That burden is slowing his recovery considerably. Until he learns to process those emotions instead of suppressing them, his progress will continue to be slower than expected."

The therapist adjusted his glasses before looking directly at Matteo, who kept his gaze fixed on the floor.

"I need to ask something important," he said calmly. "Has Mr. Marcone ever struggled with any significant mental health issues or emotional trauma in the past?"

He then turned to Mark.

"And do you know what’s weighing so heavily on him right now? What’s occupying his mind? The more we understand about what’s driving his emotional state, the better we can tailor his treatment and support his recovery."

Matteo’s jaw tightened. He shot his brother a sharp warning look, silently telling him to keep quiet.

Mark ignored it.

He loved his twin too much to keep hiding the truth, knowing that silence would only make things worse.

"He has," Mark said quietly, leaning forward. "Matteo was diagnosed with bipolar disorder years ago. Our parents found out after a devastating tragedy when we were younger. He went through intensive treatment and years of therapy, and with the right support, he became stable."

Mark’s expression darkened.

"But now he’s carrying something else."

He glanced briefly at Matteo before looking back at the therapist.

"He’s dealing with a devastating heartbreak. The man he loves left him, and ever since then, he’s been living with a constant, suffocating sense of loss."

The therapist nodded thoughtfully, taking in every word.

"And what made you believe he had become emotionally stable?" he asked.

"Because he hasn’t exploded like that in years," Mark replied, his voice tight. "He hasn’t let his anger consume him the way it used to. He learned to control it."

The therapist gave a slow nod.

"Learning to control your reactions is important," he said calmly. "But controlling your emotions and processing them are two very different things."

His eyes shifted to Matteo.

"From what I’ve observed...