Chapter 23
Matteo
Little Russo: I’m going to order dinner. Do you want anything?
She asks the same question every evening, and every time, I respond with the same thing.
Me: No, training late.
It’s not a lie, but it’s also not the truth.
I do train a lot leading up to a fight, but not this much.
I toss my phone and go back to shadowboxing.
“Care to share what’s got you so worked up?” Lucian asks.
When I don’t respond fast enough for his liking, he adds, “Or you know, just keep knocking out all my fighters.”
He shrugs, and I glare, but it doesn’t faze him in the slightest. Because Lucian is the only man, aside from Dominick and Lorenzo, who isn’t afraid of me.
I’ve spent the past week training every second of every hour that I’m not working. My excuse is that I have a fight coming up, but Lucian’s spent enough time with me to know there’s more going on.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say, continuing to shadowbox since I knocked out the last guy and nobody else wants to spar with me.
“Okay.” He bends under the ropes and gets into the ring. “Then, let’s spar.”
“I’m not sparring with you.”
“Well, you have two options: talk or spar.”
He knows damn well when I’m like this, I won’t spar with him. Maybe years ago, when he was younger and in shape and could kick my ass. But not now.
“Fine.” I huff. “Then, I guess I’m leaving.”
I unwrap my hands and duck between the ropes while Lucian calls my name, but I don’t stop, unable to have a conversation with him and refusing to stay and disrespect him.
But before I can make it out of the gym, my brother steps inside.
“Going somewhere?” He quirks a brow.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my tone harsher than intended.
“You’ve been MIA since your birthday, and I’m worried about you.”
“Oh good,” Lucian says, interjecting himself into our conversation. “Maybe he’ll talk to you because he sure as hell won’t talk to me.”
“You called my fucking brother?” I bark at Lucian.
“Someone had to do something,” he says. “I couldn’t watch you spend another minute training yourself to death.”
“Let’s go,” Dominick says, using his boss tone.
“I have shit to do.”
“Yeah, go with me.”
He turns and walks out, knowing I’ll follow.
I make sure to shoot Lucian one last glare before I leave, but he only grins and shrugs.
“So, what’s going on with you?” Dominick asks once we’re in his car and he starts driving. “Lucian says you only get like this when you haven’t fought or fucked in a while. And since you’ve been fighting down there every day …” He glances at me. “Do you need to get laid?”
I think about the last time I had sex. It was with Dani, and despite her not being experienced, she took me repeatedly all night long, handling my stamina like she’d done it a million times.
Because of my emotional dysregulation, I have times when I need to release my pent-up aggression, and I’ve learned over the years that the combination of fighting and fucking works well.
Fighting relieves the muscle tension and tires my brain, and the fucking releases hormones that calm me and reduces my stress, so they’ve become my outlet when I have moments like this.
And they usually work … only the fucking can’t happen.
Because the only person I’m craving is off-limits—and she happens to be the person who’s causing the stress in the first place.
“You were right.”
“I usually am.” He smirks. “But what am I right about this time?”
I roll my eyes. “I thought once you’ve had one pussy, they’re all the same. But they’re not.”
When Dominick was missing Peyton during their time apart, I suggested he find another woman to occupy his bed, telling him that all pussy was the same.
And at the time, I believed that. But that was before I spent the night with Dani.
Now, I know the truth. Pussy is pussy … until it’s not.
Being with her changed the game, and I’m fucked because I have no desire to be with any other woman but her—only I can’t be with her.
Dominick’s mouth twitches, holding back a grin, and I groan, knowing he’s put two and two together.
“You found your perfect pussy.”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
Dominick laughs. “Holy shit, you fucked Daniella.”
He pulls into the parking lot of Pasquale’s and puts his car in park, but doesn’t turn off the engine or get out.
“I didn’t fuck Dani.”
What we did was so much more than that.
I’ve fucked a million women, but with Dani, it was different.
“When are you going to admit that you like her?”
I whip my head around to look at him, and he quirks a brow. “Brielle told me she saw you smiling while you were texting Daniella. And I saw the way you two were looking at each other at dinner. When you found out she was the one who’d made your cake, you practically had hearts in your eyes.”
He chuckles. “I went by your place earlier, looking for you since you turned off your location, and I ran into Daniella. She was worried about you, said she hadn’t seen you since your birthday. But I could see it in her eyes. It was more than that. She was hurt.”
I drop my head against the headrest and close my eyes. “I fucked up,” I admit. “I gave in, and it was so fucking good.” I swallow thickly. “But it doesn’t matter because I can’t be with her again. She’s young … too young. And she has her entire life ahead of her.”
“Bullshit,” Dominick says, making me open my eyes and look at him.
“What the fuck do you mean, bullshit? Do you not remember when you were arranged to marry her? You said it was gross.”
“Yeah, because she was a baby and then a child at the time. But she’s not a child anymore, Matteo. And from the little I’ve spoken to her, she’s more mature than you.”
“She’s Lorenzo’s sister,” I point out.
“So?” He scoffs. “He’s your best friend. If she were my sister, I’d be thankful you were with her. At least I’d know she was safe with you.”
“Well, that’s just fucking gross,” I half joke. “As much as I love your sister, I think being with her would be illegal … at least in Florida.”
“Fuck you.” He laughs. “You know what I mean. Stop making excuses and talk to her. If you want to be with her, just be with her.”
I open my mouth to argue when the alarm on my phone sounds, and I grab it, knowing there’s only one reason it would go off.
“What the hell is that?” Dominick asks.
“Dani’s in trouble.”
Daniella
Twenty Minutes Ago
Me: I’m going to order dinner. Do you want anything?
I already know what Matteo’s answer will be. It will be the same as the last several times I’ve texted him this same question, but I keep hoping it will be different.
I keep hoping that, one of these days, he’ll stop running from what’s happening between us, but he’s scared and confused, and it doesn’t help that I’m his best friend’s little sister.
The age gap is huge, and we’re very different people.
But the way I feel when I’m with Matteo overrides any logical reason why we shouldn’t pursue the feelings we have toward each other.
Matteo: No, training late.
I sigh and order my food since I’m hungry and craving Greek … again. I’ve had it every night this week, but I can’t seem to get enough of it.
While I wait for my food to arrive, I read some more of the romance novel I’ve been into recently, thanks to the tablet Matteo got me, along with an e-book subscription.
At some point, I’m going to need to figure my life out, but after years of school and then dealing with Enrique’s crap, I’m honestly just enjoying relaxing and hiding out at Matteo’s place.
Though it would be better if he showed his face instead of hiding from me.
I like his company. Our conversations and working out and cooking together.
He’s sweet and funny, and as if that wasn’t enough, he’s a beast in the bedroom.
I’ve attempted to pleasure myself a couple of times since that night, but now that he’s shown me how good it can be, my self-induced orgasms are a major letdown.
The knock on the door indicates that my food has arrived, so I set my tablet down and open the door. Only instead of the guard or the doorman holding my food, it’s a black-masked man.
The second I realize something is amiss, I scream and attempt to run, but before I can get far, I’m yanked back by my hair. I try to remember the moves Matteo taught me, but it’s no use. The person is too strong and binds my hands behind my back before I can fight them off.
“You thought you could hide from me?” The person scoffs, and I instantly recognize the voice.
“My brother might not think this is the way to get revenge, but I happen to disagree.” He pulls me tightly against him.
“Now, quit fighting,” he murmurs. “And I’ll make sure your death is as quick and painless as possible …
once I’ve gotten to fuck you one last time … for old times’ sake.”