Page 62 of Hostile Love
Given the impatient mood I’m in, he’s lucky I don’t snap his wrist, break each finger, and move onto dislocating his shoulder.
Nevertheless, I decide to play nice and let him tap his phone screen until he finds my picture.
“Access approved,” he tells the other guy, then looks right at me. “The boss is in his suite. I’ll get one of the guys to show you the way.”
I frown. “Is André home from the hospital?”
The guard gives me a weird look, like I should know the setup.
“Matheus Souza is overseeing everything. He’s the boss,signora.”
My heart flutters.
The guard brings his phone to his ear and speaks. “I need an escort at the front entrance.”
“No…it’s fine. I know the way.”
I stroll in between the two men and nod at the obedient doorman who opens the door for me.
Inside, I make a beeline for the staircase, my footsteps quiet on the marble tiles spread across the vast entrance hall.
My heart is pounding at the same quick tempo as my pace. I take the stairs two at a time, breaking into fast strides when I turn left on the landing.
Following the corridor, I remember the layout and know exactly where Matheus’ room is located.
Once I’m outside his suite, I press my ear to the solid wood door and listen. Muted music plays from the other side and there’s a faint aroma of marijuana.
I take hold of the handle, purposefully inhaling and exhaling through my nose in slow, controlled breaths, preparing to become one with the shadows.
As soon as a slither of space appears, the beat of “Guess It Wasn’t Love,”byStracthumps in my chest. I peer inside, scanning every shadowy corner.
A bedside lamp pours soft light over the plush comforter and spills across the floor. Its reach fades into darkness at a pair of heavy drawn drapes.
Not seeing him, I quietly close the door behind me and skim the wallpaper with my fingertips, staying tight to the walls.
Through the vocals, the energetic sound of running water comes from the adjoining bathroom.
He’d unintentionally left the door ajar, not expecting a lethal visitor to move through the mansion a second time.
There’s enough room for me to slip inside and when I do, my heart rate goes haywire.
Matheus is right there, washing his jet-black Souza hair under the rain shower head.
Beyond a glass screen, his eyes are closed, and his beautiful face is angled upward. Hot steam swirls around his carved muscles and blurs his wide-legged stance.
I swallow hard and take a step into the middle of the room, debating my next move. Having rinsed his hair, he turns his entire back to me and reaches for another bottle.
My eyes double in size at the marks sprawling across his back. I simultaneously suck in a gust of air, stuck to the floor, my legs suddenly paralyzed.
What the hell…
19
DANIELA
Before me, spread across his shoulders and upper back, is a vast tattoo––a black buffalo skull, to be precise.
I can’t make out the full detail, but it's permanently inked on his skin.
