Page 1 of Matteo

Chapter One

Matteo Ricci

It has been ten years since I last felt the warmth and tightness of a woman's body. But that doesn't mean I've been celibate. No, I've indulged in other pleasures to satisfy my needs. However, nothing compares to being inside my forever, the one who got away.

I've searched for her tirelessly, spending more than ten million dollars in my pursuit. But she remains elusive, like a ghost haunting my memories. And so, I haven't touched another woman since she left. Sure, I've received blow jobs and fucked sluts up the ass when necessary - after all, I am a man with simple needs.

But none of them could ever compare to Eleanor Motherfucking Wang - the woman who was the bane of my existence yet also completed me like no other could. She is the missing half of my soul that I can never replace.

The last timeI saw her, she was walking into her apartment, her last words being, “I love you, Matteo.” Then, poof. Gone, never to be seen or heard from again. She left everything behind. Her apartment was untouched, her car in the underground car park, her handbag and wallet on the hall table. As for Eleanor herself, nothing.

Ten years….Ten motherfucking years…. And the thought of her still brings me to my knees.

Chapter Two

Matteo Ricci

"Fuck!" I growl, gripping her hair and shoving her face down hard; all control surrendered to raw need. "Swallow it." My voice is a command, not a request, echoing in the dimly lit room that reeks of sex and sin.

With that ridiculous name, she's probably plucked from a cheap strip club sign; Candy hums against me, vibrations sending jolts up my spine. Her eyes water as mascara streaks her cheeks, painting her with the mark of my dominance. She's skilled and knows precisely how to work me over, her throat relaxing like she's done this a million times before. And she probably has.

"Good girl," I mutter, though I don't care about praising her. It's just another form of manipulation to keep her eager for the next call, the next wad of cash. She's nothing but a means to an end — getting off while keeping my mind off the one woman I can't fucking replace, no matter how many Candy's come crawling to my feet.

Pressure mounts like a crescendo, every muscle in my body coiling tighter than the springs in a bear trap. I can feel theimminent release clawing its way up from my depths. "That's it, I'm gonna cum," I grunt through clenched teeth.

My balls draw up, a sure sign the edge is near, and my legs tense like steel cables about to snap. The world narrows down to this moment, the heat, the friction, the blinding rush of impending ecstasy. It's raw, unadulterated power coursing through my veins, a fleeting escape from the relentless chaos of running an empire built on blood and shadows.

"Fuck!" The word rips from my guttural throat as I hit the peak, my release tearing through me like a raging storm. My vision blurs, every sense hyper-focused on the pulsating pleasure that shatters my composure.

Candy's head pulls back, and she's a mess of smeared makeup and raw, used lips. She rocks back onto her heels, eyes lifting to meet mine. They're glazed, but there's a spark in them — the kind that knows the game and plays it without asking questions.

Sweat beads on my forehead and my breaths come hard and fast. I tower over her, my heart still hammering in my chest, blood roaring in my ears. Control—that's what this is about. I hold the reins in this room, even if chaos reigns supreme outside these walls.

Her gaze holds steady, not flinching, not wavering. She's seen the darkness in men's souls, tasted their sins, and swallowed them whole. A part of me admires that resilience, even as I wouldn't say I like the necessity of her presence.

"Get out," I command, voice rough like gravel, still catching my breath. It's all just a transaction, flesh for cash, nothing more. But somewhere deep down, a twisted honor stirs within me — one that yearns for Eleanor, the ghost who haunts my every waking moment.

"Money's coming," I add, dismissing Candy with a jerk towards the door. It's not personal, it's business—the Ricci way.

She's fucking hot, no denying that. The type to make a man risk it all for a taste. And she's mine, at least for these minutes that bleed together, hazy and raw.

"Good girl," I murmur, though there's no warmth. It's not affection; it's acknowledgment of services rendered. She doesn't need my praise. We both know her worth is counted in crisp bills, not words. I'll transfer her payment later; she knows it's coming. She always gets what she's owed.

She nods, the motion detached, and rises without a word. That's how it works between us—no small talk, no lingering glances. She's in, she's out, and that suits me fine. The silence echoes with unspoken rules that keep life simple and my mind clutter-free.

I stride into the en suite and peel off the condom with a practiced ease. The latex snaps as it leaves me, a sharp sound in the quiet room. Leaning over the sink, I let cold water wash away the evidence.

The condom swirls in the sink before I knot it tight, a grim ritual performed with precision. No chances were taken, and no trails were left. I toss it in the bin and hear it hit the bottom with a soft thud, like a final note in our sordid symphony.

Hand on the cold marble, I stare into the mirror, barely recognizing the man who looks back. He's a ghost of the past, haunted by memories and promises. A promise to Eleanor. She's the only one who ever got close enough to taste my soul, and I swore she'd be the last.

"Boss," Spike's voice jolts me back to reality, his tone piercing through the thick air like a switchblade.

I turn, fixing him with a glare that has made grown men piss their pants. Spike doesn't flinch; he knows better than to show weakness around me. We've been through too much blood and battles for nerves to get the better of us now.

"Spit it out," I snap, already feeling the itch to move, act, and find the piece of me that's been missing all these years—Eleanor.

Spike holds my gaze, unspoken loyalty in his eyes. "Sorry to interrupt, but you need to hear this."

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