Page 125 of Seeking Vengeance

“Where is who?” I shake my head, my voice hoarse.

He stalks forward, nudging me out of the way to continue into the living room. “Nice try. But he sent me a colorful text a few minutes ago, so I know he’s awake.”

My pulse stutters, ricocheting through my chest with the force of jagged shrapnel. “You’re in contact with Matthew?”

He stops in the middle of the open area and swings around to face me, continuing to walk backward into the penthouse. “Look, there’s no need to freak out. I’ll do you a solid and make sure he doesn’t blame you for letting me in. Okay?”

I drag in a ragged breath, realizing the extent of what I’ve done. Not only am I face-to-face with my enemy while completely unprepared, I’ve also let the son of the man who murdered Grace into Matthew’s home.

“Get out.” Venom enters my voice. “Getthe fuckout.”

“Not going to happen.” He swings toward the hall leading to the bedrooms. “Dante, where are you?”

The name snaps me rigid, every ounce of blood in my body siphoning to my feet.

The asshole shoots a glance over his shoulder, levelling me with a demeaning smirk. “Sorry, you referred to him as someone else, didn’t you? What name is my brother going by these days?”

I turn cold. Blood. Heart. Breath. “You’ve got the wrong apartment.”

This has to be a mistake.

A coincidence.

Dante Costa must live in this building. Matthew has to be watching him, too.

I inch toward the kitchen, destined for the knife block calling to me from the middle of the counter.

“Dante,” he raises his voice. “Get out here.”

“Leave.” My tone sounds like a beg as I reach the marble counter, my ears thunderous with my frantic pulse. “Before I call the police.”

I’m ignored. Entirely dismissed as he strolls toward the dining table, picking up last week’s mail. “Matthew Langston.” The name rolls off his tongue with heavy criticism. “I guess it’s no surprise he chose a variant of his middle name. He never liked Mateo.” He swings back to face me. “So where…”

His question falls short as I slide the knife from the wooden block, his gaze narrowing on the sharp blade. “Planning on stabbing me, sugar?”

“I plan on doing whatever necessary to get you out of here.” I cinch the robe tighter around my middle with my free hand, my nakedness beneath the silk making me feel far too vulnerable.

“How long has he been playing you?” His expression turns into mock sympathy.

Black dots assail my vision.

Matthew isn’t playing me. He can’t be. Not for weeks. Not afterhedemandedmyhonesty.

I would’ve sensed the treachery. Felt the deceit.

Wouldn’t I?

“Get out.” I thrust the knife toward the entry. “Now.”

“Damn.” His brows rise. “He’s been doing this for a while, hasn’t he? You poor, sweet thing.”

His derision undoes me, unraveling the binds of loyalty that tie me to the man I’d fallen for.

“Dante,” he calls toward the hall. “Get the fuck out here.”

“He’s not here,” I scream. “It’s just me. And if you dare to do anything to me, I swear my family will return the favor tenfold.”

“Dare to do to you?” He frowns. “Why the fuck would I want to do anything to you?” He looks me up and down again, the frown deepening. “For starters, you’re out of my usual age bracket. No offence. And I’d never lower myself to stick my dick where my brother has already been. Especially if that brother is Dante.”

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