Chapter Thirty-Five
Matteo
The week has been taxing. Every goddamn lead I’ve chased ended in the same dead alley.
I’ve grilled each dockworker one by one.
But even under the strain of threats or promises, they all swear the same thing, that the cargo was approved.
So I went higher up and interrogated the port authority director, the very man who owes us everything and knows exactly whose hand feeds him.
But that’s where it stopped making sense.
He said someone from our operation called him and told him to approve the shipment as per D’s order.
He never checked the man’s identity, assuming the order came from one of the lieutenants.
Someone used our name. Someone inside the famiglia gave that order, or someone familiar enough with our organization.
Someone who thinks they can play fucking games in our city.
Luc sent men down to Naples, Florida, to follow the trail.
But there, too, he hit a dead end. No traces of the cargos transiting through the private harbors.
If the shipment went through there, someone cleaned up efficiently.
Every hour without an answer winds me tighter, I’m this close to snapping.
Then there’s her . I have been returning home late every night, when Erin was already asleep.
I tell myself it’s because I’m busy. But the truth is uglier.
I’ve been avoiding her, avoiding her pleas to let her go.
Because I am too much of a coward. Because every time she says those words, something dark and ugly coils inside me, choking me to the point where I can’t think straight.
Because the freedom she wants is the only thing I can’t give her.
So instead, I slip next to her sleeping form in the dead of night, pull her against me and let my hands speak the truth she refuses to hear.
But it’s wearing me down not to see her, not to be near her every second of the day.
The investigation has hit a dead end, and the distance between us is starting to feel like its own kind of punishment.
So I decide that enough is enough. It’s time to go back. Back to the office, back to her. Let the field team chase ghosts in Naples, I’ve got my own to deal with.
I let her work from the third floor again.
I even let her move her station away from me to the window corner.
She said she needed the distance to be efficient, to breathe.
Fine, I let her, as long as I can see her.
I want to prove to her that I can be civilized and accommodating, so I agreed to give her space to work.
But the second she steps away from her desk, she’s mine.
We argue like fire and gasoline, but when she’s in my arms, I burn hotter than I ever have in my life.
Our chemistry is scorching and I am done pretending that I’m not craving to hold her, that I’m not dying to pin her to the nearest surface and make her forget her own name.
And I had come to believe that she trusted me.
However, what I saw today has proven me wrong. I am waiting for her to return from her coffee break with Allan and goddamn-Dave, another concession I made to prove to her that I am not a possessive asshole. Although that’s exactly what I am.
She steps into the office at last, a soft smile playing on her lips. The smile falters when she sees me sitting by the conference table, a tablet laid out in front of me.
Yeah, little ghost, you really think you can keep secrets from me?
I lean back in the chair, watching her freeze at the sight of me.
Her gaze flicks to the tablet lying on the table then up to my face, and wariness creeps into her eyes while the door clicks quietly shut.
I finally break the silence, my voice calm and controlled. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
Guilt flickers briefly over her face and my anger threatens to boil over.
“What are you talking about?” she asks, but the small tremor in her voice gives her away.
I don’t answer as I tap the screen of the tablet and the video feed begins to play on the big screen behind me.
The footage is grainy and from far away, but clear enough to show the scene.
I don’t need to watch the footage again.
Instead, I look at her as she watches herself talk to Adam fucking Rourke outside The Bastion.
“You were talking to that FBI agent, Rourke,” I say, stating the obvious. “What did he want from you?”
She swallows audibly but when she looks back at me, her gaze is open and sincere. “He spoke to me and asked me to spy on you.”
The words slam into me like a fist. Not because I’m surprised but because they dared to approach her. My ghost .
“What did you tell him?” I ask through clenched jaws.
“I told him no, that I am only an employee, and I walked away.” She nervously licks her lips. “Look, Matteo, I know I haven’t given you any reason to believe me, but I’m not ly—”
“He’s fucking done,” I cut in, voice shaking from suppressed fury.
Her eyes widen. “Wh-what do you mean, ‘he’s done’?”
“That bastard won’t get near you again.” I’m up and on her in two strides and grab her waist to pull her flush against me. She stiffens and raises her hands to my chest to push back.
“You are not angry because he is investigating you?” She looks up at me with surprise all over her face.
“Of course not,” I snarl. How can I make her understand?
“He’s been shadowing me for months, and he can go on until the end of days, he won’t find shit.
But he’s crossed a line—he dared to contact you, he talked to you.
I will burn his career to the ground and bury the ashes under so much administrative backlash that he won’t be seeing the sun again soon. ”
Erin gasps. “You don’t need to make this into a big deal, he’s not a threat to me.”
Cold, sharp claws are wrapping around my heart. Is this…fear?
I snap. “Not a threat? Do you have any idea who that man is, what he wants? He’s a threat the second he breathes near you.”
She crosses her arms, annoyed. “He’s just doing his job, he asked questions. I didn’t give him anything. You’re overreacting!”
“Overreacting?” I grab her arms hard, wanting her to understand. “How can I protect you if you assume that anyone who talks to you means well? This is exactly why you need me to protect you, because you don’t see the danger until it’s too late.”
She is angry now, her eyes are blazing as she pushes back at my chest and struggles to break free. “I don’t need you to protect me! I can handle myself. In fact, I have been handling myself all my life without you watching every step I take.”
I grab her wrist before she can back away, my breath ragged. “You don’t know men like Rourke. One wrong word and he’ll tear through your life and crush you to get to me.”
“So what? Let him try, you can’t control every aspect of my life, I’m not your prisoner.”
“No, but you’re mine,” I growl as I yank her closer, my fury and fear tinging the edges of my vision in a red haze. “And I will fucking kill anyone before I let them touch what’s mine.”
Her struggle stops dead and she blinks up at me in shock, visibly horrified by the last admission. “Matteo.” Her voice is a broken whisper. Her lips part, her breath shakes, but she doesn’t push me away. “We clash and burn, we can’t go on like this or we’ll get hurt.”
My heart stops.
Little ghost, I am already beyond the fire and the ashes. I am so deep in hell I can’t claw my way back out. At this point, I’m ready to drag you down with me.
My voice comes out soft, but I can’t hide the raw undertone when I murmur, “Then burn with me. I’d rather set the world on fire, with me in it, than let you walk away.”
She is stunned speechless. Her chest is heaving as she stares at me with her entrancing violet gaze.
I lift my hand to her face to cup her jaw and slowly drag my thumb over her lower lip.
Dark satisfaction coils in my gut when I hear her breath hitch and see her eyes cloud over with arousal.
She wants me as much as I want her, and damn me if I’m not using this to my advantage. I know I’m a bastard, but I don’t care.
“Matteo,” she whispers. But it doesn’t sound like a protest.
I lean in, brushing my lips to the corner of her mouth. “You can hate me later,” I murmur against her lips with a hoarse voice, “but right now, just be mine.”
Her breath hitches again, but she doesn’t move away. I wrap my arm around her and pull her closer while I tilt her head back and crush my lips over hers. I kiss her slow and deep, like a confirmation of my claim. And my heart thunders when I feel her melt into me.
“I’m still mad at you,” she whispers against my mouth, eyes dazed and voice husky.
I chuckle. “I know, little ghost. I’ll take your fury, I’ll take every damn part you are willing to give me.”
She fists her hands into my shirt and I kiss her again, more forcefully now, as I feel my control slipping fast. She moans in my mouth, and God help me, I drink in the sound, needing to own that too, needing to consume her and make her an intrinsic part of me.
I lift her on the conference table without breaking the kiss, my hands roaming her body, clawing at her clothes. I lift her dress up and cup her pussy.
Fuuuck, her panties are drenched . With a groan, I rip them off her and push her backward so she is lying on the wooden surface.
Then I kneel between her spread thighs and worship her.
And when she arches against me, when her voice cries out my name in a husky shout, I know that I own this part of her. For now.
But soon, she’ll be mine. Completely and irrevocably mine.