Chapter 2 Matteo
MATTEO
While I’m ushered out of the building, through the disorderly crowd of screaming people, I hastily glance over my shoulder at the room that was just blasted open.
The girl, now unconscious, is thrown over the shoulder of one of Lucio’s henchmen as they make their way out the door through the back of the building, far away from me.
Goddammit.
“Let’s go, sir,” Franco says as we make our way through the crowd outside and onto the pavement.
“Who ambushed us?” I ask. “Was this a fucking setup?”
“No, Lucio knows not to play with us. He seemed just as surprised,” Franco responds.
The car is parked right in front of the building, and the moment the door is opened, I sit down, shut the door, and we race off, past Lucio’s car.
His wretched smile is visible through the window, making me want to bust out my gun and pop him right then and there.
But I don’t want him to die yet. I need him to suffer first. And I definitely don’t want the girl in his grasp to get hurt in the process, as they carry her off to God knows where.
The moment our eyes locked in that room, I knew it was her, the girl who threw the pearls over the balcony. Such a pretty creature shouldn’t be anywhere near a rat like Lucio.
What is she doing with him?
Does she even have a choice, or is he forcing her?
I rub my stubbly chin, annoyed at myself that I didn’t manage to grasp her and take her with me before the whole thing blew up.
Goddammit. He must have brought her into the negotiation just to make sure I wouldn’t try anything on him in front of her.
He knows my only weakness, and it’s definitely a girl like her.
I suck in a breath. Even now, I can’t stop thinking about those luscious blond locks and that soft skin of hers that yielded so easily against the pad of my thumb when I brushed away her tears.
That man made her cry, and I will make him pay for it.
A filthy smile forms on my face. I’ve decided.
“Stop the car.”
Franco frowns. “Wait, what? Why? This could’ve been a setup. Whoever came blasting in might be after us too.”
“Just do as I say.”
The driver immediately stops, and I pull a tracker from my pocket, open the car door, and wait until Lucio’s car drives by before I throw it right through the open window onto the back seat of the car.
The girl lies face down against the interior, probably still unconscious from when they dragged her away.
But I will fucking find her again, and when I do, I’ll make sure he never makes her cry again.
Stella
My head is pounding when I finally come to while in the car. I have no idea how long I’ve been out of it or where I’m being taken, but I know I’m still in his grasp as his stench invades my nostrils.
I grumble as I slowly get up, trying to center myself, while my head throbs harder. I bring my fingers to my hair as the warmth of my own blood surprises me. God, I must have really hit my head on something. Maybe the rubble fell on top of me when the explosion happened.
Images of the fight in Club Triton invade my brain, and then the barrel hitting my head flicks back into the forefront.
One of Lucio’s men hit me with a gun. Goddammit.
As I remove my fingers, something drops out of my hair onto my lap, and I inspect it for only one second before tucking it into my pocket as Lucio turns his head toward me from the passenger seat.
“Finally awake now?”
“What happened?” I ask.
“A bloody fucking ambush, that’s what. You should be happy we managed to drag you out of there.”
He flicks his fingers at Bartolo, who’s right beside me. “Take care of that nasty head wound. I don’t want her bleeding all over her expensive gown tomorrow.”
My stomach twists into knots from the mere mention of the word tomorrow. I almost forgot. God, it was bliss being gone for a moment.
I jerk the door handle a few times.
Lucio snorts. “You think I’d let you get away after what you just tried to do?”
Bartolo grips my hand and keeps me pinned down while he hastily swats me with some napkins dipped in water from his own bottle.
“You’re not leaving my sight,” Lucio says.
“Get off me,” I growl at Bartolo, trying to shove him off me.
When he’s finally done, I fold my arms and lean into the corner of the car as far away from him as possible. I don’t want any of these fuckers touching me. It’s not like they fucking care whether I’m bleeding or not. He just wants me to look good for the cameras tomorrow.
Lucio narrows his eyes at me. “Where is the necklace?”
“I threw it over the balcony,” I spit.
Lucio suddenly grabs my cheeks, pressing them together as he growls, “That wasn’t yours to throw away. Those pearls belonged to my mother.”
“Then you shouldn’t have put them around my neck if they were so precious,” I say.
“I will put anything I want around your neck and parade you around like a goddamn dog on a leash,” he says, squeezing harder. “The money you tried to steal is gone now too. It’s all your fucking fault, and you will fucking pay for it.”
I frown. “What? I didn’t do anything with that money. I don’t have anything on me.”
“I already know that,” he says. “You think I didn’t immediately have my men check you, bitch?”
He slaps me across the cheek, not hard enough to leave a mark but hard enough to sting. And I touch my own face where he hit me to try to soothe the pain.
“You steal from me again, and I will cut off more than you can bargain for. Do you understand?” When I don’t respond, he yells, “Do you understand or not?”
I softly nod to avoid another slap.
“Good. Don’t fucking try that on me again.”
The car finally comes to a stop near his mansion, and when the locks are off, I immediately rush out into the fresh air to try to control my emotions so I don’t cry.
How did I end up in this mess? If only I hadn’t taken his money. But God, I needed it so badly.
I swallow down the tears, blinking a couple of times as Lucio steps out of the car, too. There’s no point in running because his guards are everywhere. Except in my room, of course, because he barred all the windows off with metal. He probably knew I’d jump if I got the chance.
I don’t want to marry this bastard, but he’ll make me. All because of the money that he gave to me when I needed it the most.
“You,” Lucio barks, “go to your fucking room and let the maids help you. If I so much as hear a single scream, I’ll personally come up there and give you a reason to scream. You got it?”
I suck in a breath and don’t reply as I waltz up to the door of his mansion, sticking my middle finger in the air, but I doubt he sees it. He’s too preoccupied with trying to find whatever remaining cash he still has after the explosion threw it all across the room and out into the void.
I guess I should be grateful to whoever interfered with their negotiations because it definitely wouldn’t have ended well. One of them was about to get shot, and I doubt Lucio’s men would have let Matteo hurt him without gunning him down first.
I couldn’t bear it.
And all of this because of that same fucking money.
Lucio really is the devil.
Still, I can’t help but wonder if the man who wants him dead isn’t just as much a devil as he is.
I go up to my room and close the door behind me.
The maid still isn’t here, so I have some peace and quiet on my own for now.
I stay put near the door and fidget in my pocket to take out the item that dropped out of my hair, and I stare at it.
It’s a tracker with the same letter engraved on top as the cuff links that Matteo wore.
A smile lifts up my face.
Maybe, just maybe ...
Suddenly, there’s a knock on my door, and I jolt in surprise.
“Miss?” The door opens, and I step away, tucking the tracker back into my pocket.
“I’m here to help you clean up a little,” the maid says.
I clear my throat and smile. “Yes. I’m ready.”
Matteo
The next day
Just when I’m about to open my laptop, Franco knocks on my door.
“Come in,” I say and put down my regular morning coffee. I don’t like being interrupted during my work, but he knows if it’s important, he should come to me, no matter the time.
“We were right, it was an ambush. The Costa family is responsible. We found some of their bullets.”
“Of course it was them,” I say.
“They were arrogant enough to engrave each one of them with their own emblem,” Franco adds.
I can’t blame them. We do the same to our cuff links and other items. I consider it my calling card.
And I guess the Costa family considers their bullets their calling card.
Even though we escaped without scratches, it nearly cost me my life being in Club Triton today to talk with that bastard.
I wonder why they tried to kill us both.
“One of the boxes Lucio carried in is missing from the scene. And I doubt he took it with him,” Franco adds.
I rub my chin. “So that’s what they were after? Money.”
“Someone must have tipped them off to the deal,” Franco suggests. “Someone in Lucio’s vicinity.”
“He’s got a mole,” I point out.
“Exactly,” Franco states.
“We should use it to our advantage. See if you can find out anything about him. Name. Occupation. Address.”
Franco nods. “I’m on it.” And he waltzes off again.
I open my laptop and lean back, watching my program do its job as it tracks down each step that pretty blond-haired girl is taking in her room inside the Agostini mansion.
The moment she steps outside, she’ll be mine.