41. Siena
Siena
W e make our way down the hall and out into the chilly night air. Olivia’s golf cart is parked nearby, and I slide into the passenger seat as she tosses the duffel bag into the back.
“I brought your things,” she says brightly, settling into the driver’s seat.
“I don’t have anything,” I reply, frowning.
“Of course you do,” she counters, giving me a quick smile. “Your cute dress, that hat and jacket, and all the books we read together. You’ll want them for your shelf, right?”
Her gentle tone does little to settle my nerves.
I glance out across the sprawling estate, my thoughts churning.
He basically confessed to playing a role in the death of Mikey and Emily, but he didn’t say what he did or why.
I’m also deeply confused as to why he’s so fucking irate over that flash drive.
How ironic would it be if the damn thing Matti wants so desperately is tucked away in that duffel bag, and I’m being sent off with it?
Olivia pulls onto the path, zipping along at a brisk pace. The fog rolls in thickly, soft tendrils licking at the dimly lit trail. The weather is growing colder, the air crisp yet suffocating. It’s hard to breathe.
“Don’t worry,” Olivia says as we pull up to the tarmac, her voice a mix of reassurance and nonchalance. “He can be a moody fuck, but this isn’t over.”
“What if I want it to be over?” As much as I hate him, I know that that’s not true even though it probably should be, but I don’t seem to have much of a choice. At least I can pretend for a moment that I do.
Ahead of us, a private jet looms in the darkness, its engines roaring. Tiny lights outline the runway, barely cutting through the dark.
She leaves the golf cart idling as she hops out and grabs the duffel bag. Without a glance back, she strides up the stairs into the plane. Not knowing what else to do, I follow.
Inside, the luxury is staggering. White leather armchairs are nestled intimately around polished marble tables, glowing under soft ambient lighting. Rich cream-colored wallpaper with gold accents covers the walls, and heavy gold-trimmed curtains frame large windows.
Every detail screams wealth and control, from the staff area outside the pilot’s cockpit to the glossy wood door at the back of the plane.
Even the staff is luxe. A stewardess glides toward us, her sleek blonde bun pinned with a golden chignon pin.
She’s dressed in an immaculate white pencil skirt and blouse, cinched at the waist with a gold belt.
Her matching earrings catch the light as she smiles and greets Olivia with a soda water and cucumber and hands me one as well.
“Thanks, Kayla,” Olivia says with a grin. “But can we get something a little stronger?”
Kayla’s expression is regretful but playful. “Ooh, sorry, Olivia. Orders are orders,” she says with a wink and walks away.
Olivia flops into a chair, her long legs draped over the armrest as she sips her drink.
I sit tentatively on the edge of the seat beside her, leaning in close. “Where the fuck are we going?” I hiss.
Olivia sighs and shrugs, looking almost apologetic. “Nowhere interesting, unfortunately.”
I frown, confusion mounting. “Home? Like, my house in Jersey?”
“Yep,” she replies, leaning in conspiratorially. “Matti asked me to bring you clothes while you were sleeping—by the way, you look great in my stuff—and when he told me you were going home, he suggested I go with you.”
So, they’re her clothes, and he asked her to accompany me. “Why?”
Olivia scrunches her forehead at me. “Why? Because you’re one of us.”
“Olivia, he’s literally kicking me out right now.”
“Who cares about Matti? You’re mine. ” She leans in close, glowering at me darkly like the men in the books we read, and then bursts out laughing. I can’t help but laugh along with her.
Kayla comes by, taking our drinks from us as the engines roar and the plane begins to taxi. My protests falter as we hurtle down the runway, the sudden acceleration stealing my breath.
Once we level off, Kayla reappears, handing us fresh glasses of water garnished with slices of cucumber. Olivia slurps on hers as the engines quiet down.
“Why not just drive?” I ask, breaking the silence. “It’d be cheaper and way simpler.”
Olivia shrugs, scrolling through her phone. “No clue. But hey, I’ll take any excuse to hang out with you.”
Her lighthearted tone does little to make me feel better.
Olivia is ten years younger than I am, and though she’s never shared about her life before the Demonio estate, she did say that the family took her in after her parents died.
It’s understandable if she has an allegiance to them, but that doesn’t exactly make her assessment of the situation reliable.
Looking up from her phone, she catches me looking at her and slaps my arm playfully. “Stop. You’re fine, okay. Nothing bad is going to happen. I really am just taking you home. I’ll be with you on the plane, and then Grit will pick you up on the tarmac and drive you to your house.”
“Grit?”
“Matti’s head of security.”
“And then?” I press.
“And then? I don’t know. I’m on a need-to-know basis, and no one has filled me in.”
When she sees the anxious look on my face, she leans over and squeezes my arm. “Hey. I don’t know what happened between you two, but whatever it is, there’s no way Matti is letting you go forever. He’s way too into you. Do NOT tell him I said that.”
I pull my necklace out of my shirt and slide the pendant back and forth along the chain nervously. It doesn’t feel like the pendant I usually wear, and I look down: it’s some saint that I don’t recognize. It looks familiar, but I can’t place it. “What the fuck?” I mumble .
“What?” Olivia sees me staring at the pendant and leans in. I look up at her as her eyes widen and her eyebrows shoot up. She jerks her gaze up to meet mine.
“What?” I ask, my brow furrowed. What is this thing? I start to take it off, but she claps her hand over mine, stopping me.
“No!”
“It’s not mine. I don’t know where it came from.”
“It’s… It’s mine. It’s a Saint Michael the Archangel necklace. It’s for protection, and it’s bad luck to take it off!” She slowly takes her hand off mine and leans back in her seat. I frown. She gives a dismissive wave of her hand. “It’s a Catholic thing.”
“Thank you?” I let go of the necklace and sit back in the chair, surveying her and biting in a breath. “So… you’re really not with Matti?”
She chokes on her water, coughing violently as she swings her legs off the arm of the chair and slams herself on the chest. “What?! Oh, fuck no. Gross. He’s like a brother to me. They all are.”
I sink back into my seat gingerly and rub my forehead. “You and Matti never were… What about the fuckboy comment?”
“I just meant he gives total fuckboy energy. And he does, doesn’t he?” She giggles and sits back in the chair, kicking her feet up on the table. “Or he did until you came along.”
“Olivia, I don’t know what you think is going on, but it’s not like I’m his girlfriend or anything. Whatever he wanted, he clearly doesn’t anymore. At least not enough to keep me around.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t know the boys like I do.
I’ve known them all my life, been living with them since I was 12.
That’s 10 years of watching the bitches they fuck come and go—but not Matti.
I know he fucks who he wants, but I never see them and as far as I know, he’s not the sleepover type. But you’re different.”
I give a short, humorless laugh. “Different isn’t necessarily better.”
“Maybe. But in this case, different is very fucking different. He texted me every day, multiple times a day, to find out what you were doing and how you were when he was away. It was really annoying. I’d bet anything he was watching you on the cameras every chance he got, too.”
“They have cameras in the rooms at the Edge?” I gasp.
I don’t want to think about how many times I touched myself thinking about him.
Shit, did he see that? I’m horrified, but…
the idea that Matti was watching me touch myself like he did in the shower…
. Did he get himself off while he watched?
The image sends a shudder of heat through me.
“Of course there are cameras,” she snorts. “These guys are fucking control freaks. And he did not want to be gone for as long as he was. I’m surprised he stayed away as long as he did.”
“What, he didn’t have a choice?” I take a sip of my water, careful of the cut on my lip.
“Not this time. Aurelio was fucking with him,” she says, stabbing her cucumber slice with her straw. “I heard Aurelio on the phone at the estate. He was pissed that Matti stopped AJ from killing you, but he really lost his shit when he found out that Matti killed AJ for touching you.”
I choke on my water. “Wait, what? Matti did what? Who’s AJ?”
I don’t know if I’m more shocked by Matti murdering someone because of me or by Olivia’s matter-of-fact tone, like she’s talking about him grabbing takeout on the way home .
“Oh, AJ.” She rolls her eyes. “Total sleaze. From what I hear, Matti cut out his tongue and shoved it down his throat when he killed him.” She takes in the horror on my face and waves her hand at me.
“Oh, no, trust me. This guy was the worst. The world is a better place. Honestly, I can’t believe it didn’t happen a long time ago. ”
He cut off his tongue? Holy shit, she’s talking about the guy who licked me.
My heartbeat is thudding in my ears, and I try to take a deep breath to calm myself down. Matti’s intensity is confusing. He’ll literally murder someone for licking me but kick me out of his life when another man tries to rape me in front of him?