Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Matteo Salvatore.
It had to be him, that was the only logical answer.
I cleared my throat before speaking. “I’m not exactly alone. You’re here,” I responded. Poised and calm. I couldn’t afford to freak out now. This was only the beginning of my life’s biggest trial. The most ruthless game of them all and I had to play it just right. “Why are you here?”
Matteo slowly stalked around to stand in front of me, and he leaned against the stoned pillar, crossing his arms over his wide chest. In this spot, he was perfectly hidden from any onlookers. “Because I am simply a gentleman and I saw a young, beautiful damsel in distress so I thought to offer her my comfort.”
My hands fisted on my lap at his assumption. “I’m not a damsel in distress.” While men like him adored pretty, ditzy girls, I couldn’t appear completely helpless. I would never be his equal, but I had to be strong and composed.
His rakish smile widened, but there was nothing handsome about it. It was taunting, dangerous, and utterly sinful. His eyes slowly moved over me, unabashedly watching… assessing, maybe trying to figure out my worth, before our gazes clashed once more. “No, you’re right. You’re not some kind, distressed woman and that’s exactly why I find it so… peculiarly intriguing,” he mused aloud.
Oh.
“What’s intriguing?”
“You.”
I blinked. And then blinked again. “Sorry, what?”
“Your mother was killed in cold blood, and yet you have not shed a single tear. Not at the church, and not when she was being buried,” he recounted, as if I hadn’t been there myself.
So he had been watching me.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
I knew it.
I had felt it.
“Tears are not synonymous with sadness,” I finally said.
“You’re right, but neither is there any sorrow in your eyes. Fascinating,” he drawled, his voice rough and insincere. There was something undeniably taunting about his words. Oh, so he was mocking me now.
I huffed in response. “Well, my mother wasn’t exactly the sweetest mother. Everyone grieves differently.”
I was sure he would understand. It wasn’t like he had some kind of sweet childhood either. We were both raised in the same cruel society that we called the underworld. The same one that turned him into the man he was now. The opposite of gentlemanly.
“No,” he tsked darkly. “You don’t grieve, Ms. Morelli. I find no sadness or anguish in you. You’re not grieving but there is yearning in your eyes… longing in your melancholy smile. Loneliness.”
The pounding of my heart echoed in my ears and my spine tingled. How did he know? How could he see my truth so soon when I had buried it so well for so many years?
He wasn’t just watching me…
He sees me.
There was another flutter in my stomach. No, this was all wrong.
His words were all wrong.
The Matteo I had been told about was not so sensible… thoughtful.
This conversation was not going according to plan. Why would he care if I yearned… if I was lonely…? Or maybe he truly was a psychopath who enjoyed and thrived on others’ desolation. That must be it.
“So you find my loneliness attractive? It’s intriguing to you? That’s not very gentlemanly nor is it honorable,” I clipped, my entire body shaking now.
He chuckled darkly. “I never claimed to be an honorable gentleman.”
“What do you want from me, Mr—” I waited for him to finally introduce himself.
“Salvatore.”
Aha. I knew I had made the correct assumption all along. Indeed my mystery man was Matteo Salvatore.
“Alright, Mr. Salvatore. You already know who I am, so tell me the real reason why you approached me.”
I already knew why, but I wanted him to say it. His words would make it official. Soon enough our lives were to be entwined and we had to somehow be honest with each other. No, we didn’t have to always tell the truth but at least, we had to be on the same page.
“Now that I can’t tell you.” He quirked up an eyebrow, almost mischievously. “I don’t reveal my secrets to strangers.”
Huh. Impressive.
“Since you have acknowledged that we’re strangers to each other, I’m in fact not allowed to speak with strangers.” I rose to my feet, straightening the dress at my waist before brushing my hand down the fabric to smooth out any creases. “Excuse me.”
My heels clinked on the marble tiles as I walked away from the man who would soon own me.
“Are you always such a rule-follower?” His voice, deep and gravelly, behind my back was a physical jolt, pulling my attention back to him.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
There was an invisible string between us, tugging me to him and my feet moved without my consent. I faced him again.
His head was cocked to the side as he waited for my response.
“Yes,” I breathed shakily.
I had to be the perfect image of a woman that a man like him would love to have in his bed. That was my purpose after all, right?