Chapter 13
Matteo
Iarrive at Holston PR early enough to see most of the employees filter in.
Holston’s assistant escorts me into a glass-walled conference room with a nervous smile. I check my prosthetic in my phone’s reflection, adjusting it slightly until the gray matches my good eye perfectly.
There, now I’ll just wait.
Beyond the glass, the office buzzes with anxious energy and productivity. I catch fragments of whispers, employees pretending they’re not watching me.
I flick my lighter open, then closed. The familiar weight grounds me. When I’d found it missing that night, the rage had been a living thing, clawing up my throat. Now it’s back where it belongs.
Footsteps approach—too heavy to be my Little Thief. The door swings open, and Holston enters, sweat already beading along his hairline despite the aggressive air conditioning. His eyes flicker between my face and the floor.
“Matteo,” he greets, extending a damp hand I pretend not to see. “You’re early.”
“I’m exactly on time,” I correct him. “For my schedule, not yours.”
He laughs too loudly, tugging at his tie like it’s slowly strangling him. “Of course, of course. Can I offer you something to drink while we wait? Coffee? Water?”
“Silence,” I growl, my tone making it clear it’s not a suggestion. He nods rapidly, taking the chair farthest from me. Smart move.
Over the years, I’ve helped Holston with several favors, and he’s always been good at making it worth my while. When I showed up at the Parkview, the night I met Raven, it was to remove the corporate spy a competitor sent.
Before that, I saved his son from prison after a drunk driving incident that would have put the boy away for a decade.
“I want to thank you for—”
“No need,” I interrupt.
“But I—”
Sighing, I steeple my fingers together. “I’m not a charity, Nathan,” I say, pointedly using his first name. “I didn’t help you because I’m suddenly a humanitarian. You owe me.”
He nods jerkily. “Of course.”
“Is she coming?” I ask, staring directly at him until he fidgets.
“Yes, she’s just…” He checks his watch, swallows. “She’ll be here.”
Though he continues to try engaging me in small talk, I refuse. I’m content sitting here and letting the minutes stretch on until she gets here.
“Maybe I should call her,” Holston murmurs.
“Don’t,” I order. “We’ll wait.”
Right on cue, the door opens again and Raven enters with her shoulders squared, chin lifted in defiance that doesn’t quite mask the wariness in her eyes.
“Am I late?” she squeaks.
I stand slowly, deliberately. “Ms. Carter,” I say, my voice dropping to a register that makes Holston blink rapidly. “Thank you for joining us. I do hope you stay until the end this time.”
Her eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. “Mr. Russo. Hard to refuse such a compelling invitation.”
I gesture to the chair beside me—not across, beside. The one that puts her in my space. “Please.”
She hesitates, just long enough to make a point, before sliding into the seat. The scent of her perfume hits me—something citrusy and sharp. Nothing like the night I kicked her door down. She smelled of fear and arousal then. A heady cocktail that still makes my cock throb.
“Let’s get started,” I say. “I require Ms. Carter’s exclusive services for the foreseeable future.”
Holston mumbles something that sounds like him wanting to discuss the term exclusive. But since he isn’t stupid, he doesn’t press it or repeat himself.
“I require full availability and access,” I clarify, watching Raven from the corner of my eye. “I have a project that requires her particular… talents.”
“No.”
I’m not surprised she’s disagreeing with me. A grin tugs at the corners of my mouth. “Problem, Ms. Carter?”
She shakes her head. “No problem at all, Mr. Russo. Not as long as you understand that won’t be happening.”
“What kind of project?” Holston interjects, leaning forward.
Ignoring her boss, I turn to her slowly, letting my prosthetic eye catch the light. People always flinch when they notice the slight difference, the way it doesn’t track quite right. She doesn’t flinch, just holds my gaze.
“What makes you think this is a negotiation, Ms. Carter?”
She shrugs. “I don’t think that’s what this is at all, Mr. Russo.
” Her gaze sweeps to her boss, but if she’s looking for backup, she gets none from him.
Instead, he pretends not to see her. “I work on multiple accounts, and I’m not willing to give those up.
So while I’m happy to help you, I can’t agree to exclusivity. ”
My eyes narrow at her words. It sounds an awful lot like a double entendre.
“Get out,” I say coldly, not looking away from her. Pressing her lips together, she makes to stand, halting her movements when I shake my head. “Not you. Holston.”
I don’t need to look at the man to know he isn’t happy to be disrespected like this in front of an employee. But since his happiness has never been my concern, I don’t care.
“Wait a minute, Matteo,” he argues. “You can’t just—”
“Get. Out.” I repeat through clenched teeth.
Knowing what’s good for him, Holston gets up and leaves the room. I’m still holding Raven’s gaze, so I don’t know if he looks back or not.
As soon as the door’s closed behind him, I lean close enough for my breath to fan across her cheek. “What game are you playing, Little Thief?” I murmur.
She straightens. “No game,” she whispers. “You never told me I couldn’t do other work. And… umm, I like my clients. The newest one asked for me specifically. And I liked the work they needed done. So I didn’t see a reason not to—”
“Stop talking,” I interrupt. To my surprise, she seems grateful rather than annoyed that I cut through her babbling. “Let me see the contract.”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I signed an NDA as part of my agreement with North Coast Effects. I’m not showing you anything.”
I take my time studying her. If I’m honest, I like that she said no. It proves she’s capable of being loyal. I place my hand on her knee and squeeze. She stiffens slightly but only for a moment. Then she relaxes and I feel her legs falling open.
“Okay,” I agree.
“Okay?” she questions.
I nod. “As long as you make yourself available when I need you, you can continue your work here.”
“Thank you,” she breathes. Then it’s as though she catches herself and straightens her spine. “I mean, of course I can. This is my livelihood and career, Matteo. No matter what you think I owe you, this isn’t part of the deal.”
I squeeze her knee harder and tilt my head to the side. “No,” I agree. “Not as long as it doesn’t interfere with what I want from you.”
Her jaw tightens, a muscle flickering beneath the smooth skin. “And what exactly is it that you need, Mr. Russo?”
I grin widely. “To be my girlfriend, of course. I’ve already told you that.”
Raven shifts in her chair, crossing her legs. The movement draws my eye momentarily. “I’d like to review the scope of work,” she states primly.
I place my hand over hers, trapping it against the table. Her skin is warm, pulse jumping beneath my thumb. “We’ll discuss the specifics over dinner tonight,” I tell her. “Eight o’clock.”
Rather than arguing, she digs into her handbag and pulls out a piece of paper. “Here you go,” she says, her tone dipped in sugar.
“What’s that?” I ask, narrowing my eye.
When she doesn’t answer, I take it from her. I can’t help laughing as I read it. This is a bill from Spotless & Co. A goddamn cleaning company.
“Oh, you know,” she sing-songs. “It’s the bill for wreaking havoc on my apartment, Matteo. Since you’re the one who made it look like a five-year-old had been home alone, you should be the one paying.”
“Is that so, Little Thief?” I rasp. “Have we forgotten why I was there?”
She waves me off. “Not at all. But two wrongs don’t make one right… or however the saying goes.”
“Fine,” I grin. “I’ll pay for it. But that means you’ll be paying for something else. Something of my choosing.” I have no intention of making her pay for anything. She’s right, I did the damage, so I should be the one paying. But I don’t need to tell her that. Let her stew.
Before she can argue, I stand and get ready to leave. Holston chooses that exact moment to re-enter the room, which makes me think he’s been skulking around outside the room without me noticing.
Taking his time, he sits back down. “Have you two come to an agreement?” he asks, somehow managing to make it sound like it was his choice to leave the room.
“We have,” I confirm. “Ms. Carter’s thrilled to take me on as a client alongside her current workload.”
Holston, oblivious to the specifics, beams. “This is excellent news. A partnership with Russo Industries will be—”
“Not with Russo Industries,” I correct coldly. “With me. Personally.”
The distinction lands like a slap. Holston’s smile falters, then fixes itself back in place. “Of course,” he amends. “Even better. Will there be any paperwork that needs signing, or?”
What he’s really wanting to know is whether or not I’m going to pay for her time. But if he’s not going to ask outright, I see no point in answering an unvoiced question.
I button my suit jacket in a single, fluid motion. Holston scrambles to his feet, nearly knocking over his chair in the process. “A pleasure as always, Nathan.” I extend my hand, gripping his firmly enough to make him wince.
“Likewise,” he manages, eyes darting between Raven and me. “I’m sure you’ll be very satisfied with Raven’s work.”
I turn to her, watching as she rises. “I have no doubt,” I murmur, stepping into her space.
Before she can react, I place one hand on her waist and lean in, pressing my lips to her cheek. I linger there a beat too long, my breath warm against her ear. “I look forward to our collaboration, Ms. Carter,” I whisper, feeling her slight tremor against my palm. “I’ll pick you up at eight sharp.”
When I pull back, her eyes are wide, conflicted. But she doesn’t step away, doesn’t shrink. “I’ll be ready,” she replies, the slight catch in her voice almost imperceptible.
Almost.