Page 139 of Matteo
I shook my head.
“Please, Matteo. Don’t make this worse than it already is. Don’t make me hate you.” Because surely one day it would come to that. When the passion cooled, we’d realize how many people we’d hurt. I pleaded with my gaze, hoping he was stronger than me. It made me a coward, but at this point, I didn’t care. “You know how much Hannah means to me. She’s mysister, Matteo. I couldn’t choose?—”
Her over you, so I ran.But my words died in my throat as I glimpsed the fury in his gaze.
“Me. You couldn’t choose me. Just say it, Ari.”
“Let’s just talk about this.” My body trembled, mirroring the chaos in my soul. If he only knew how hard this was for me too. “Please, let’s find a way for all of us to move on.”
My throat closed as I stared through my blurred vision at the boy turned man who’d quite possibly had my heart since the day I met him.
“There’s no moving on for me, and nothing to talk about.”
He turned his back to me, and for a moment, I thought he’d leave. But in the second it took me to chance a look at the door, I felt a prick in my neck.
I tried to move and managed a few unsteady steps, but it was no use. I collapsed into his arms, my entire body numb. His familiar scent filled my nostrils and I tried for words, but my tongue was too heavy.
In the reluctant comfort of his strong arms, I let the world vanish as my vision went black.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
MATTEO
Ididn’t know how long I held Arianna before I placed her on the unmade bed.
Her wig slid sideways and I reached out, removing it completely before tossing it in the nearest trash bin. She looked like the personification of innocence laid out on the bed, her blonde hair splayed around her head like a halo.
Now that she was asleep—okay, tranquilized—I couldn’t help but feel a smidge guilty.
But she’d given me no choice.
I caught up to her four days ago. I had planned to snatch her up and take her home, but my pa’s words kept repeating in my mind. How he forced my mom to marry him, forced her to return to the States from Italy.
Those words wouldn’t let me rest.
So while I kept busy in the background, lurking in the darkness, I arranged it all.
Color me curious, but I also wanted to know what she’d been up to over the past few weeks while on the run and figure out why she came to fucking Ireland. Of all places, she camehere,and I couldn’t help but shake off the feeling that I was missing something.
She mostly kept to herself, asking around about Hannah or the Callahans, before moving on to the next place along the coastline.
Fishing out a phone, I sent a message to the pastor whom I’d paid handsomely to be available at my beck and call.
Me: Prepare everything.
Then I dialed my father.
“Has your game of cat and mouse come to an end?” was his greeting.
“Yes, Pa.”
“Excellent.” I could hear pride in his voice. “When are you coming home?”
“I’m not,” I answered. “Not yet.”
Silence followed. “Do you need money?”
“No.”
