Page 97 of Hostile Rival
“We’ll catch up later. I promise,” I call over my shoulder, ushering Matheus further into the colonial-style house, past the armed guards who nod respectfully at me.
I’m used to this particular mansion, because this is where Sofia spends the majority of her days. She likes being in the city. Blanco, on the other hand, moves around a lot, so he’s never in the same place long enough to get caught.
“I never knew Blanco had such a good-looking daughter,” Matheus mutters.
“Wow, you moved on quickly,” I growl under my breath and trail him along the corridor with its walls covered in framed photographs. “Good to know your head is easily turned.”
Latching onto my wrist, he whirls me into him, almost knocking a stupid bronze statue off the console table next to us.
He lowers his face to mine. “I don’t like any of this, little firecracker. Not one fucking bit. But when I said you’re mine, I meant it. So, if you think we’re over, or that you can walk away from me after this, think again. I will find you and I’ll punish you for putting me in this position.”
I’m barely breathing when he pulls away and stretches out his neck, his gaze lingering over my shoulder.
“Daniela? Is that you?” Blanco calls to me from inside the breakfast room. The wood paneled doors are wide open to the right of us.
Our utility boots thud over the wooden floor when we walk into the sunlit room. I make eye contact with the guards and keep close to Matheus by my side. Blanco rises from the mahogany table and saunters in my direction, fixing the black diamond cufflinks under the sleeves of his smart navy jacket.Nearing me, he opens his arms wide and draws me into an embrace.
This isn’t anything new, but it still makes me uncomfortable. Where this man’s family is concerned, he’s a hugger. But me, I need people to respect my boundaries.
Our dysfunctional dynamic is a mix of fatherly ownership and a ruthless boss who won’t tolerate failure. Nevertheless, I hug him back and sense Matheus' eyes burn into our interaction.
Blanco cups my cheeks in his hands and kisses my forehead. It’s at that moment Matheus shifts next to me, and his possessive hand settles on the curve of my lower back.
“You’re so beautiful, Daniela,” Blanco praises. “The Sicilian sun has given your complexion a wonderful glow. How did the training work out?”
I wait until his hands fall away and take a sideways step, breaking contact with Matheus too. “It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary,” I lie.
“I’m so proud of you.” Blanco turns to Matheus, but still talks to me. “You managed to bring this Souza to me without restraints. You’re getting better at this.”
My heart jumps into my throat when Matheus frowns. Our gazes clash like daggers. Mine pleading for forgiveness, and his chestnut eyes hinting danger.
“Giovanni?” he mumbles and scratches his jaw deep in thought. “It was you?”
Blanco chuckles and answers for me, unaware of how I’m dying inside. “Of course it was. Daniela does whatever it takes to get the job done.” When he strolls to the drinks cabinet across the room, Matheus’ jaw ticks.
“It’s so good to see you again, Matheus,” Blanco begins. “You won’t remember me. You were only a baby when I made a promise to God to watch over you. What can I get you to drink?”
Matheus’ eyes cut away from mine and I lose that non-verbal connection we had. He prowls to the dining table, pulls out a chair and sits.
“Whiskey on the rocks,” he answers confidently, drumming his fingers. “Then you can cut the bullshit and tell me who killed my father. Isn’t that why Dani brought me here? Or was there something else you wanted?”
My chest tightens at the harsh tone he uses. I want to grab his hand, drag him out into the street, and tell him everything.
Too late, Dani.
Blanco chuckles. “You’ve certainly got Elias’ impatience.”
“I wouldn't say impatience,” Matheus corrects him. “More like an intolerance for time wasters. So, spare me the pleasantries.”
I widen my stance, still standing in the middle of the room when Blanco carries two drinks to the table and regally sits in the chair beside Matheus.
They both take a drink. Yet Matheus holds his glass in the air, ready for a second taste.
Blanco sets his glass on a coaster. “You want to know who killed your father…and I want something in return.”
Matheus cocks a brow. “Like I didn’t see that coming. What do you want, Blanco?”
“I want you to marry my daughter, Sofia.”
