Chapter 25
Daniella
“Well, that went better than I’d expected,” I say to Matteo a few hours later, once Lorenzo is gone.
“Yeah,” Matteo agrees, pulling me into his arms. “But it doesn’t surprise me. Lorenzo is the calmest, most levelheaded guy I know.”
“I don’t really know him as well as I’d like to,” I admit. “But I look forward to getting to know him.”
After I told them I was hungry, Matteo offered to order food, and Lorenzo stayed to eat and chat. It was nice, talking to him without any distance between us. He’s the only family I have left, and I want us to be close.
When the doorbell rang, I jumped and hid, and Matteo soothed me, assuring me that I was safe, while Lorenzo took the food from the guard.
Thankfully, Enrique hadn’t killed anyone, but two guards and the doorman were shot and are recovering in the hospital.
Matteo said all three will be taken care of, especially the guard who made sure to sound the alarm before he blacked out, which led to Matteo being made aware that I was in trouble.
After the food was devoured, Lorenzo said he needed to head to the office, and when I offered to join him, he told me to rest and he’d see me tomorrow.
Which reminds me …
“I need clothes.”
Matteo looks at me in confusion, and I laugh.
“Sorry, weird transition. But I was thinking about how I’m going to work tomorrow, and I don’t really have any work clothes. Any chance you want to go shopping with me?”
Matteo groans. “I don’t. But I know someone who loves shopping.”
He pulls out his phone, but I grab it from him.
“I don’t want a pity shopping partner.”
He snatches it back. “Trust me, my sister will be happy to go shopping. Especially with my money.”
I scoff. “I’m not spending your money. You do remember that I’m a Russo, right? When my parents passed away, I got half of everything. I might not be as rich as you, but I’m not hurting.”
Thankfully, despite Enrique mentioning us combining our accounts, we never got a chance to, so my family’s hard-earned money is still safe.
Matteo glares, and I laugh.
“What’s that look for? You want me to play the part of a gold digger? Will that make you feel better?” I coo, “Yes, please, Matteo. Buy me all the things.”
I bat my lashes flirtatiously, and he cracks a smile.
“You would make a crappy gold digger,” he says. “You’ve been living here for over a month, and aside from asking for some baking supplies, you haven’t spent a dime of my money.”
“I’m low maintenance.” I shrug and then remember something else I did buy. “I bought something for you. I’ll be right back.”
I run upstairs and inside my room, grab the package that came in the other day while Matteo was avoiding me, and then run back down.
He’s sitting on the couch, his phone to his ear, so I snuggle into his side and wait for him to get off.
“Okay, but she’s going to have Ian with her. I don’t give a shit if you have Daniil. He’s your guard, and Ian’s hers now that George is out of commission. I spoke to him last night, and he agreed. All right, see you soon.”
He hangs up and pockets his phone. “Bri will be here soon to go shopping.”
“And the guards?” I ask, setting the package on the coffee table.
“Daniil is her personal guard. And Ian will be yours. If you don’t mesh well, let me know, and I’ll pick someone else, but he’s loyal to a fault, and I trust him to protect you.”
“But why do I need anyone?” I ask, confused. “Enrique’s gone, so I’m safe.”
Matteo sighs. “Did you know that the entire time you were in college, your dad had someone watching over you?”
“What?” I gasp. “No …”
“Yes,” he volleys. “He might’ve kept you away, but his associates still knew about you, and he wouldn’t risk it. All it takes is one associate becoming an enemy, and you’re at risk. Bri has Daniil, and Peyton has Denis. Even Damien has a guard who goes to school with him every day.”
“And Lorenzo did the same thing?”
“No.” Matteo’s jaw clenches. “He didn’t want to violate your trust. And I get it. Though, maybe if he had, the guard would’ve reported back about Enrique, and you wouldn’t have married that fucker.”
“I really fucked up,” I mutter.
“No.” He pulls me into his arms, so I’m forced to snuggle closer into his side on the couch. “You remind me a lot of your brother. It’s probably what drew me to you.” He chuckles. “You both love with your heart on your sleeve. You trust and give people the benefit of the doubt.”
“That’s a nice way of saying we’re gullible and naive.”
He shakes his head. “No, you just haven’t been jaded enough to be cynical.
And I love that for you. And my goal as your boyfriend is to make sure you stay that way.
” Matteo palms the side of my face. “I just got you, Sweetness. You want to spend your own money? Fine. But I’m not backing down on keeping you safe. ”
He presses his lips to mine for a kiss that ends far too quickly. “Now, what was it you needed to show me?”
Oh yeah! The reason I ran upstairs.
But then it hits me. “Did you just call yourself my boyfriend?”
A grin spreads across my face, and Matteo rolls his eyes.
“I’m thirty-five. I guess it had to happen sometime. But don’t expect any of that shit boyfriends do.”
“Like what?” I ask, now curious.
“Flowers and date nights and shit.”
I laugh softly at his admission and lean over to give the corner of his jaw a kiss.
“I don’t need flowers or date nights or shit,” I say, repeating his words back to him.
“I just need you. But …” I pull back and look in his eyes.
“If you ever cheat on me, you’re going to need every one of your guards to protect you from me. ”
Matteo scoffs. “That would never happen,” he says, pecking my lips. “I might not be boyfriend material, and I’ll probably suck at all of this, but I will never hurt you in any way. I watched Andrey cheat on my mom for years, and I will never be like that piece of shit.”
I nod in understanding.
“Now, before you get distracted again,” he says with a laugh, “whatcha got?”
“Oh yeah!” I grab the package. “So, I know you’ve adapted to your dyslexia, but after we spoke about it and you seemed upset that you couldn’t read well, I did some research.”
I pull the colored cards out, along with a book I got him.
“What’s this?” he asks carefully.
“I read that colored cards can help.”
“No. What’s the book?”
“Oh, it’s one of my favorite books—The Giver.”
“I remember this book, but I never read it,” he admits.
“It’s so good. It’s about a utopia, though the argument could be made that it’s really a dystopia. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“Okay,” he says. “And the cards?”
I pull them out and open the book, placing a red one on the first page. “They come with a bunch of different colors because everyone’s different, and it might not work at all. But I figured it couldn’t hurt to try. Just look at the words and see if they’re clearer through the see-through card.”
He stares at the page for several seconds and then shakes his head. “No. Still jumbled.”
“Let’s try another one.”
We go through several colors, and each time he says no, my heart aches for him. I can hear it in his tone that he’s defeated and uncomfortable. Maybe this was a bad idea, but I was just hoping, if one of them worked, maybe he’d feel like he wasn’t so broken.
I set the blue one over the page and wait … and wait … and just when I think it’s going to be another no, he starts to read the first sentence. And then he continues on to the second and then the third. And when he finishes the paragraph, he glances up at me with the most breathtaking smile.
“How did I do?” he asks.
“You read every single word perfectly,” I choke out.
“Holy shit,” he breathes. “The words … they weren’t jumbled.”
He reads a few more sentences, and when he stops, I nod.
“Every word, perfect.”
“Fuck,” he says, pulling me into his arms. “Thank you for this. I didn’t realize how badly I wanted to be able to read like a normal person until now.”
“You have a learning disability,” I correct him, “but that doesn’t make you any less normal than anyone else. Will you read more to me?”
“Yeah, but right now, I need to show you just how thankful I am for you.”
He reaches over and pulls me into his lap, and then his mouth connects with mine. He cradles my face in his strong hands and kisses me softly, reverently, with slow, shallow strokes of his tongue, and it’s as if the entire world around us evaporates.
Until the door opens and Brielle calls out, “Honey, I’m home! Whoops. Looks like I’ve walked in on something.”
She closes the door behind her, and Matteo groans in annoyance.
“Remind me to change the code,” he murmurs against my mouth but loud enough so Brielle can hear him. “Apparently, my family and friends don’t understand what the word emergency means.”
I climb off his lap despite him trying to keep me there, and he turns and hits Brielle with a playful glare.
“My bad,” she says with a shrug. “I didn’t know you guys were a thing.”
“Oh, yes,” I say with a laugh. “He even referred to himself as my boyfriend.”
Brielle mock gasps. “Holy shit, I never thought I’d see the day. Can you hear that?” She cups her ear and looks off into the distance. “It’s all the women crying that Harbor Point’s very own bad boy is officially off the market.”
She cackles at her joke, and I can’t help but join in because she isn’t wrong. Matteo might not think he’s boyfriend material, but if he was as attentive with other women as he is with me, they’d have every right to be sad that he’s no longer single and available.
“Very funny,” Matteo mutters. “I have shit to do. Have fun shopping.”
I turn to go get dressed, but he grabs my arm and jerks me back, until his lips brush the shell of my ear.
“And if you happen to find some of that sexy lingerie women like to buy, my favorite color is green.”
His favorite color is green … like my eyes.
Not boyfriend material, my ass.
“Oh my God, I am shopped out.” I drop my bags onto the floor next to me, and Brielle laughs.