After saying that we’ll find basic necessities in all the bathrooms, she smiles at me. “If there’s anything else you need to make your stay comfortable, just pick up the phone on your nightstand.” Then, after wishing us a pleasant night, she excuses herself.
“I’ll show you to your room,” Matteo says.
Thank God he’s not expecting to share one; otherwise, I would have attempted an escape out the window.
The nearest door stands open, and I see my candy on the bed.
“Be ready for dinner in an hour.” He issues the order with the confidence of a man who’s never heard the word ‘no.’
“I’m not hungry.” Even though that’s a fib, I stare at him defiantly, clinging to what little control I have left.
He captures my chin and tilts my head back.
The heat of his touch burns through my skin like a brand.
“Look, little rebel. I abandoned all my responsibilities to follow you to another continent.”
“I was perfectly fine where I was,” I bite out.
“Duty first.” He releases me, his voice soft but lethal, like silk wrapped around a knife. “You have two choices. Join me of your own free will, or I will come and get you. Understand?”
“Is that your idea of a marriage, Matteo?” I fire back. “Barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen?” The words are designed to wound, to make him see me as more than a duty to be fulfilled.
A hint of a smile tugs at his lips, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I assure you, Alessia; I can afford shoes.”
Before I can respond, he’s gone.
Exhausted in a way I’ve never been before, I enter my room, but not before noticing that Chiara is just down the hallway.
I sink onto the side of the bed.
Matteo may have found me, may have dragged me back to this world of power and control, but he hasn’t won.
In the distance, I hear the rich tones of his voice, and there’s an answering skip of my heart. The man is sin and temptation in one. But if he thinks I’ll simply fall in line with his plans, he’s got another thing coming. I’m prepared to fight, no matter the consequences …
CHAPTER FOUR
Alessia
Mayfair, London
A knock on my door breaks the townhome’s heavy silence.
Matteo?
I curl my fingers into my palms, hard enough that my nails bite into my skin.
My heart stutters, then races. Just the thought of him sends a shiver down my spine. Despite my mind’s screaming protests, my body responds to him.
Unwilling to answer, I remain silent. Let him think I’m asleep, or better yet, that I’m simply done playing this game of power and control.
Deep down, though, I’m scared that he’s designing things so there’s no escaping the powerful web he’s weaving around me.
“Ms. DeLuca?” Another knock follows, gentler this time. “I have some things for you.”
Chiara.
Tension instantly melts from my shoulders. After a moment, I exhale and answer the summons.