Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
MATTEO
S itting in the upmarket restaurant, I watch from my table, hidden from view in a dark corner, as Athena smiles demurely at whatever her asshole date says to her, before tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear and taking a sip of her wine.
To anyone else, she looks happy, relaxed, but I see straight through the veil of bullshit. Her eyes are without their usual sparkle, dead, resigned and with no hint of the challenging, feisty, confident woman I have seen during her time at the Marchetti estate.
The woman I stare at now is a stranger. Submissive. A Stepford wife in the making. Long gone is the fire that usually lights up her blue gaze, in its place a dull fading light. Nausea churns in my gut watching her.
Don’t ask me why. This weird turn of events, and why I am stalking the woman I hate with a burning passion, is something I don’t even understand. Yet, I can’t seem to walk away. I want to see how this evening pans out. See if the Athena I know returns to replace this poor excuse of a replica.
But it never happens. Athena, in all her irritating glory, does not appear. Not during dinner, dessert, or even when he cups her face and presses a kiss to her lips. Her unsure, constrained manner is as obvious as the tension in her body and yet, she does nothing.
Hmm, interesting.
Maybe I got it all wrong and this passive version is the real Athena Johnson. I shake my head. No. I refuse to believe that. As much as I dislike the girl, I can admit I respect her need to be unapologetically herself. I may despise the challenging femme fatale but at least she is real.
Athena grins at whatever her date murmurs to her, making my pulse drums in my ears and my fists clench. It’s only when her date looks away and she wipes his touch from her cheek, shooting him a look of disdain, that I settle.
That’s my girl. The bitch is back.
My eyes widen.
Shit. No. Not my girl. Not my anything .
The motherfucker pays the check, then stands, holding his hand for Athena to take. My breath catches in my throat when I get a good look at what she is wearing.
Silk. A green dress that hugs her body like it was made specifically for her. The color compliments her olive skin and dark hair, and I have the sudden urge to run my hands all over that sinful body.
Once again, I shake that thought away. After what Nico suggested, this day is really messing with my head, and if I were a smart man I would haul ass before I do something stupid and act on these… unexpected cravings.
Her date places a jacket over her shoulders, the one she was wearing when she entered the restaurant. It’s long sleeved, falling below her knees, but it appears lightweight. Nothing too heavy for a balmy summer evening in The Hamptons.
As they make their way outside, I throw a couple of twenty-dollar bills down to cover the cost of my water before following them. Keeping my gaze averted, I stride across the parking lot to my SUV, climbing inside just as Athena is driven away.
Putting the vehicle in drive and keeping a steady distance, I make my decision. I trail after them.