Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Sophia
Humiliation. That’s all this was about. I knew it. Matteo knew it. Every single person who stopped by the table to speak to him knew it because they knew who I was. I might have been gone for six years, but these men and women had watched me grow up. They would recognize me.
This whole meal was about humiliation. It wasn’t because Matteo was trying to be nice and wanted to have dinner with me.
It was strange to me that I had thought differently. In all the months we had been together, we had never had a real date. Everything was about sneaking around back then, and a small, desperate part of me, a really stupid part of me, had thought that maybe this could be our first real date.
Right up until he had pulled me onto his lap, and I realized the truth. This wasn’t a date. This wasn’t even dinner. It was a way for him to humiliate not just me, but my entire family.
The whole city knew of the feud between my brother and him, and by doing this, showing off Gio’s sister like a common whore, he was telling every single person we knew that he had won.
This was the situation he had put me in. My brother.
Under the table at my sides, my hands clenched into fists.
“Something the matter, Sophia?” Matteo asked from under me.
His fingers were kneading the top of my thighs just below my panties with rhythmic bursts that made my stomach clench and dampness pool in my panties.
Not once did he touch anything but my thighs, but he was close.
So close, and like a traitor, my body wanted more.
“I’m just tired,” I lied. “It’s been a long day and…”
The tips of Matteo’s fingers brushed against my seam, and I bit back a moan.
“And you want me to…”
“No.” I caught him around the wrist before he could swirl his fingers around my clit. If he did that, I would be gone, and the whole restaurant would know what he was doing under the tablecloth. Tonight had been humiliating enough as it was.
“No?” Matteo’s voice was sharp but he didn’t fight against the pressure of my hand. “Why not? You want it. You’ve been trembling for it all evening.”
Hesitating, I bit my lip. “I don’t want it like this.” Tears came rushing up into my eyes unbidden, and angrily, I wiped them away.
“Are you crying?”
“Yes.” What would be the point of lying when the evidence was all over my face? “I’m sad and overwhelmed and humiliated and…” a sob threatened to rip its way out of my throat. “It’s just been a lot, okay?” I ended feebly.
“If you didn’t want me to touch you, you should have said so. There are plenty of people here who would have come to your aid. You want me, Sophia.”
Maybe they would have come if I had asked for help, but making a scene was out of the question. If I wanted to get back to Lily, I had to help my brother get revenge. It was the only way I would ever be able to live in peace without constant fear following us around.
“Who do you hate more, Sophia?” Matteo’s hand slid down my leg and straightened the hem of my dress. “Me or your brother?”
“Why would I hate Gio?” Confused, I turned on his lap and stared at him.
“Because.” Reaching up, he cupped my face in that old, tender way he used to touch me. “You’re brother is the one who gave you back to me. He sold you. To keep his…”
“He did not sell me.”
“So you planned on coming back to me, did you?”
I swallowed hard, caught in a corner with no way out. “No,” I admitted. Again, there would be no point in lying. Matteo would see straight through it.
“No,” I said more firmly. My voice was completely steady for a second before it cracked. “No, I didn’t plan on ever seeing you again, Matteo.”
Silence stretched around us, so thick and heavy that it seemed that it buried us in a cloud and separated us from the rest of the restaurant.
Five, ten, fifteen seconds passed before Matteo sighed. “Let’s go.”
“We haven’t had dessert.” I didn’t know why I said that. I wasn’t hungry. I had barely touched my food, and the little I had eaten just made me feel sick.
“I’ll get you ice cream on the way home.” Standing up and giving me no option but to do the same, Matteo slid my hand into his and led me to the street, where somehow, his car was waiting for him.
He even opened the door for me to slide into the red leather seats. Confused, I stared up at him for a second as the first drop of rain landed on my face.
“Why are you being…”
Nice. I was about to say nice, but didn’t get the chance. A growling grumble ripped its way out of his lips. Like I had asked something bad or rude.
“Just get in the damn car, Sophia. Before you catch a cold.”
I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t going to catch my death from a few raindrops, but the look he gave me had me scuttling inside just a second before he slammed the car door angrily.
And that was him all over. Angry and cold one second, and looking at me like I was his entire world the next. It was confusing as hell.
This whole situation was confusing. It had been less than forty-eight hours since I had stepped into that hotel room to meet him and been snatched from my old life and daughter, but it felt like so much longer.
I missed my daughter, and every single cruel thing he did and said just made me miss her more. I knew I would feel better if I could just talk to her, but I also knew that it was impossible.
Matteo would be watching my every move, and he could never find out that he was a father.
“You’ve got that look on your face again.” Pulling into the slow-moving traffic, Matteo glanced in my direction. His eyes were glittering in the lights from the street as they moved over my face.
“What look is that?”
“Like you’re sad. No.” For a second, his eyes darted back to the road, but just for a second before they speared me to the spot again. “Like your heart is breaking. You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders,” he said gruffly. “You look petrified.”
“I am all of those things.”
Even in profile, his frown looked painful. “You’re frightened of me?”
I didn’t answer him at first, because what could I say? Yes and no.
I was always contradicting myself when I was around him.
“Have I ever hurt you?”
It might have been my imagination, but I was sure I caught a wobble in his voice.
“Not physically.”
He slammed on the brakes, and I lurched forward. Matteo’s arm came out and halted my forward momentum just before I smashed into the dashboard.
“Jesus,” he breathed as car horns and angry shouts rose up around us. “Why don’t you have your seat belt on?”
Not giving me a chance to answer, he swerved the car over to the side of the road and stopped again.
“I want to know what you meant by not physically,” he asked, turning bodily toward me.
The sigh that escaped my lips was loud in the sudden quiet. “You ripped me from my home, Matteo, all because you wanted to prove some point to my brother.”
Several seconds passed before he answered. “That is true, but I wanted to prove a point to myself as well.”
“Was that point that you could break my heart again?”
“Again?” His dark eyebrows shot up in surprise. “When did I break your heart the first time?”
I gave him a pointed look.
The corner of his mouth curved downward. “I hurt you tonight, didn’t I?”
The question took me by surprise, not because he had asked it, but because I had presumed that was the whole point. He had made me eat sitting on his lap to humiliate me in front of our associates.
“I’m sorry.”
I blinked at him in surprise. In all the years I had known him, had I ever heard those words out of his mouth? Sure, sometimes he said them when we were growing up, but he had always used a sarcastic tone.
This time, it sounded like he meant them.
Matteo sounded sincere.
Reaching across the center console, he ran his fingers up and down my cheek.
“I did want to hurt you,” he admitted. “I’ll admit that.
Part of me still does.” His hands soothed my skin.
“I want you to hurt. But at the same time,” the hand on my cheek slid under the thick curtain of my hair and pulled me toward him, “you’re Sophia. My Sophia.” His lips hovered over mine.
He was so temptingly close. His breath flowed over my face, and my eyes fluttered.
“You’re the one person in the world that I have always wanted to protect. The only person I have ever—” From an inch away, his eyes glued themselves to my lips, which had parted in a sigh.
“Fuck Sophia,” he groaned. “How can I hate you this much and still be completely head over heels in love with you?”
It was a question, but he didn’t give me a chance to reply before his lips traced over mine, like he was sipping the finest wine. He kissed me over and over again.
“I fucking hate you, Sophia.” The hand in my hair tightened. “But I—"
“Shut up.” Reaching for his head, I tangled my fingers into his hair, drawing his face down to mine again. “Kiss me, Matteo.”
Even New York City seemed to fall silent, like it was holding its breath and waiting for what he did next. Matteo wasn’t the kind of man who could be ordered.
“Kiss you…” For a second, he looked angry, and then he pulled me straight over the center console and into his lap, giving me no choice but to straddle his lap as my dress rose up so high it was basically around my waist.
His mouth found mine, angry, demanding, almost hateful.
It was like he put everything into it, every single thing he had been feeling for six years.
I clung to him. I was as angry as he was. I was desperate as well.
This was always the way with him and me, always heated, always confusing.
“Matteo.” Breathless, I pulled away. Leaning my forehead against him, my breasts heaved, brushing against his chest with every breath I took. The arm he had around my waist tightened, keeping me locked to him.
“I know,” he sighed,
I hadn’t even said anything, but we both knew what I meant when I said his name.
This whole situation was messed up. Neither one of us knew what we were doing. We wanted revenge. At least I knew I did, but that was when I wasn’t with him.
When he was close to me, it was hard to remember anything but how much I had always loved him.
“It’s been a long time since you’ve been sitting on me in the front of a car.” He chuckled.
My eyes snapped open to find him staring straight at me. “What?
There were golden flecks in his eyes this close, beautiful spots like someone had dusted his eyes with gold.
“Don’t you remember?”
I remembered, but I wasn’t sure I believed he did. “Yeah, of course I remember. I just wasn’t sure why you would.”
One dark eyebrow arched up. “Why wouldn’t I remember it, Sophia? That was the night I first realized what actual fear was.” His lips brushed over mine. “And what true fucking happiness was as well. Do you remember?”