Chapter Five
Matteo
The world outside is a blur of dark roads and distant lights. The silence finally doesn’t feel suffocating.
Maybe it’s because Emery’s finally quiet, her smart mouth giving me a break for once. She’s been sleeping for the past hour, her head resting against the seat, her body curled slightly, as if she’s trying to shrink away from everything.
I glance at her, and it’s hard not to notice how different she looks when she’s not fighting.
Her face is softer now, almost peaceful.
She doesn’t seem to be the same woman who challenged me at every turn, who fought me with every word.
. But even in sleep, there’s tension in her face, the kind that says her mind never fully lets go.
I can’t help but watch her, the soft rise and fall of her chest.
The girl I used to know, wrapped up in a shell that’s harder now, but still, that spark is in her. She’s still fucking beautiful.
And for the first time in hours, I don’t want to break her.
But my mind’s miles ahead, already bracing for what’s coming.
My father.
The fucking empire he’s built with blood and violence and everything I’ve just thrown away. He’s not going to let this slide. If you step out of line, you don’t just get a warning. You get a fucking bullet. There’s no way he’ll just let me walk away from this without making an example of me.
I’m his son. He raised me to do his bidding, to follow the fucking rules, to one day take over his empire and I just turned my back on everything he’s built. For what? For her?
I pull off the highway, the dim lights of a gas station cutting through the night like a beacon. The place is nearly empty. Just a few trucks parked in the corner, the hum of the lights overhead, and the dull buzz of the pumps.
The car rolls to a stop at the fuel pump, the engine humming to a quiet death as I cut the ignition.
I watch her for a beat, her stillness almost too perfect.
She doesn’t move. I wait, half-expecting her to crack, to reveal the act.
Same old game. Pretend to sleep. Keep control. Disappear the second my guard drops.
But there’s nothing.
No sneaky move.
No fake breaths.
Just her steady breathing.
When I’m convinced it’s not an act, I slip out of the car and press the lock button. One sharp press, and she’s sealed inside, a caged bird with clipped wings, trapped in steel and silence, and I’m the one holding the fucking key.
I keep my eyes peeled as I step away from the car, scanning the surroundings. My mind’s already ticking, calculating. The shadows, the cameras. I know my father’s men will be on me before long, and I’m sure as hell not going to make it easy for them.
The door to the station slides open. I step inside, the stale air heavy.
My eyes flicker around, checking the security cameras, counting them in my head.
The blind spots, the shadows lurking in the corners, making sure I’ve got all the angles.
Always thinking two steps ahead. I don’t trust anyone. Not now. Not ever.
I move through the aisles like I’m part of the background, just another stranger in a gas station. The flickering lights above, the low hum of the fridge.
I pick up whatever catches my eye. I grab a pack of jerky, something I know she used to munch on when we were younger, before life twisted us into whatever the hell we’ve become. Some chips. A bottle of water. Nothing special, just things that remind me of her, of what she used to like.
When I reach the back of the store, my eyes scan the rack of cheap sweaters.
One catches my eye. A thick, oversized hoodie, just like the one she used to wear when she wanted to hide from the world.
Without thinking, I grab it. Maybe it’s because she’s freezing in that damn thin ass shirt, or maybe it’s just the impulse to give her something, anything, to remind her of who she used to be.
I head to the counter with the items in hand, the hoodie tucked under my arm, and the hair dye and snacks in the basket. The clerk’s barely paying attention, eyes glued to the TV. Doesn’t matter to me. I’m in and out, anyway.
I drop the stuff on the counter. The guy scans it without a word, barely registering I exist. I slide the cash over. He shoves the change back, no eye contact, no effort. I don’t say thanks. Just grab the bag, turn on my heel, and head for the door as if none of this ever happened.
I finish filling up the tank, moving like the world’s on pause. I slide into the driver’s seat and slam the door.
Emery shifts beside me, and I already know she’s awake. I toss the bag her way, careless. Pretending it’s nothing. Pretending she’s nothing. Even though every part of me knows that’s a fucking lie.
“Here,” I say, my voice flat, detached.
The bag lands softly in her lap.
“What’s this?” she asks, her voice still thick with sleep.
I glance over, just for a second, and my chest tightens.
She’s gorgeous, even with the remnants of sleep and dried blood clinging to her. That sleepy look, soft and unguarded, like she’s still lost in whatever dream world she’s been trapped in.
Memories slam into me… us, seventeen, lying beneath the stars, her hand tangled in mine—both of us too fucking na?ve to realize how fast it would all slip through our fingers.
We thought we had forever, convinced the world would hand it to us.
Believed love could bulldoze through every goddamn thing life threw at us and still come out the other side untouched, beautiful, whole.
I used to wake her like this.
My fingertips in her hair, tucking it behind her ear, as if she were the most delicate thing I’d ever touched.
That sleepy look in her eyes… half-awake, half-lost, and still so fucking beautiful it knocked the breath out of me every damn time.
The first time I saw her, I didn’t believe anything could be that perfect.
But she was right there. In my arms. In my world.
I remember walking her home at three in the morning, the cold biting at our skin, but it never mattered. She was the only thing that kept me warm.
I loved her so fucking fiercely, that I’d burn the world down just to make sure she was safe, to keep her from seeing everything I couldn’t protect her from. We had no clue how fast it would all fall apart. We thought we could outrun the mess we were born into. Thought we could make it through.
But we were just kids… too naive, too full of bullshit dreams. And now… Here I am, staring at the wreckage of something I’ll never get back.
“Some shit to shut you the fuck up,” I mutter, eyes locked on the road as I turn the key to start the engine.
I don’t wait for a response. Just shift into drive and slam the pedal down. The engine roars to life, and I guide the car back onto the road. The tires bite into the asphalt as I speed off into the night.
The miles blur by. The landscape shifting in the dark. The city’s lights fade, leaving only the stretch of road and the quiet hum of the car.
Eventually, I pull off onto a dirt track, the gravel crunching beneath the tires, pine trees closing in on either side. The night feels heavy here… isolated, untouched by the outside world.
This place is mine.
No one knows about it. Not even Salvatore, who’s seen me at my worst. The nights when I didn’t give a shit who was watching or who I fucked. He’s been there, seen me act like I was king of the world in those clubs, losing myself in whatever pussy I could find.
But here, everything’s different. Here, I can finally breathe.
I’ve been running from the empire my father built. The sickening demands, the weight of it all. Every decision, every order, every chain that’s been wrapped around me since birth.
I bought this place years ago, under a proxy name, burying it so deep that not a single soul could find it.
No one knows it exists, not even my father or his men.
It's mine, a quiet refuge where I don’t have to bow to anyone’s will.
A place where I’m not his puppet, doing his bidding like a good little son.
I needed this. I needed it to get the fuck away from his control, the constant pressure to be the monster he made me into. This place is my rebellion, my way out.
I keep my focus on the road as the trees close in around us, the darkness swallowing everything else. The car rolls over the dirt track, the tires crunching beneath, and I finally start to feel that weight lifting. We’re almost there. Almost safe.
Then the sharp ping of my phone. It vibrates against my thigh, the sudden noise cutting through the silence of the car.
I don’t need to check it. I already know what it is.
The warning system. One of the many alerts I set up around this place to keep me safe. The kind of system that’s designed to trigger the second anyone or anything gets too close. Cameras, motion sensors, heat detectors, nothing gets past it.
The trees thin out the closer we get, branches giving way to open space. Then I see it.
The house.
Just a shadow at first, then clearer with every second. The car’s headlights catch on the dark windows, bouncing off the glass, casting an eerie glow over the yard.
That familiar grip of isolation coils tighter as the driveway comes into view.
This place, it’s more than just walls and silence.
It’s a fortress. I don’t ease off the gas, just keep driving straight toward the entrance, as if hesitation isn’t part of my vocabulary.
The place is swallowed in darkness, still and silent.
No movement. No lights. Just that kind of quiet that comes from being miles away from anything that even resembles human.
I hit the button on the console, and the garage door groans as it lifts, slow and mechanical. Bright light spills out as the overheads flicker on, illuminating every inch of the polished concrete like a spotlight on the life I never wanted but somehow built anyway.