I exhaled, my limbs numb with relief. Thank God everything had gone according to plan.
The Bentley drove up to the house. Where the Valenti mansion stayed true to the family’s Italian roots, the Mancuso mansion was built in a Victorian style. It was like they were trying too fucking hard. Three-story building with richly colored walls, intricate wood detailing, and the uniqueporte-cochèrewhere the Bentley came to a stop.
The door opened, and as I was about to step out, Matteo grabbed my arm. His touch caused my gut to flip and my lungs to seize. Every inch of my body turned to ice.
“He will come for you, Layla. I’m sure of it. And once he does, I will kill him. I will avenge the death of my brother.”
I sucked in a breath. The hate in his eyes was toxic. I felt it penetrate my soul, the evil he exuded. The mere thought of Matteo killing Dante sliced like a blade down my spine, and I was sure I wouldn’t survive it. I hoped learning he had a son would make Dante refrain from doing something reckless—stop him from coming for me. But just in case there was a slight chance of Dante not cooperating, I had to make sure I executed my own plan as soon as possible.
We walked into the house, Matteo’s hand at the small of my back as if he had the right to touch me. As if he owned me. If only he knew how his touch revolted me, how much hate I felt toward him. Hell would be too a good a place for a man like him.
My skin crawled with a burning itch. Sweat beaded on the back of my neck, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to fight it for much longer. The pouch I clutched in my hand was making it worse—the need. Knowing the cure for all the aches and chills was in that pouch intensified the hunger. But I needed to control it…just a little longer.
Just. A little. Longer.
“My father had some business to attend to at Boston Harbor.” Matteo grinned at me. “Which means we have this entire house to ourselves.”
I swallowed hard then glanced over my shoulder. “Your father’s bodyguards are still here.”Thank God.
Black, soulless eyes stared at me, the evil swirling around in his dark irises sending chills down my spine, waves of dread crashing against every bone. He took a step forward. “For the life of me, I have no idea why my father won’t let me have a little fun with you.” Closer and closer he moved, forcing me to take a step back. “I don’t see the difference whether I keep on desecrating your body with heroin, or just desecrate your body with my cock.”
“Matteo. Stop.” My voice was soft, too soft. It lacked confidence. Something I couldn’t afford when it came to him.
“Why should I stop, Layla? You’re practically mine already. Look how quickly you came back to me.” I shuddered when he dragged his knuckles down my cheek. “And I didn’t even have to lift a finger.”
“I came back because I had no choice,” I bit out between clenched teeth.
“You came back because you know I have what you need.” Fingertips traveled over my shoulder. “I know how to take care of you. Isn’t that why you came to me five years ago when you had nowhere to hide from your supposed lover?”
I snarled as he reminded me of how I had been deceived. “I only came to you because I made the mistake of trusting my father. I was desperate, and he said you could help me, make me disappear.”
A smug grin spread along his face. “And I did help you. Dante wasn’t able to find you.”
“But you were, and that was the only reason you helped me, so you knew where to find me when the time came.”
The smug grin turned arrogant. “See, I helped you, and I was being smart about it too.”
“What did you pay him?” I glared at him. “What did you pay my father to write that fucking letter?”
He cocked his head, his gaze sweeping from my neck, to my lips, to my eyes. “I paid him more than he would make in two lifetimes.” He licked his lips. “And it was worth every cent because now you’re mine. Mine to take care of.”
Bile crept up my throat, my chest burning with equal parts disgust and craving. “All you know how to do is destroy lives.”
“Sometimes the strong need to eliminate the weak in order to thrive.”
I almost laughed in his face. “Strong? You think you’re strong? What, by turning an innocent woman into an addict? By taking her away from her son? Are those the actions of a strong man? An honorable man?”
The corners of his lips twitched, a malicious sneer forming on his ugly motherfucking face. “Who said anything about honorable?”
Disgust filled me to the brim when he leaned closer, the vile scent of sandalwood invading my senses, causing a gagging reflex I tried my best to suppress. But everything about this man triggered the violent urge for me to vomit. His voice. His smell. His touch. His motherfucking existence. It galled me to have him so close to me, to even think that he lusted for me. I could see it in his eyes every time he looked at me. The hunger. The need.
I would rather have welcomed death with open arms than have him claim my body in such a sacred way—which was what I would have to do in the end, anyway.
His cheek rubbed against mine, the stubble of his beard scraping against my skin. “I am so sick of you hiding behind my father’s demand that you stay untouched. I’m sick of him dictating everything.”
A chill ran down my back, all the way to the soles of my feet. “Enzio was sick of it too, remember? Sick of listening to Stefano, and look what happened to him.”
Abruptly, his hand was at my throat, fingers digging painfully into my skin. “After all this time, one would think you’d have learned your place by now. But no.” His grip tightened around my neck, leaving me gasping for air. “That damn fight is still in you.” He grabbed my arm with his other hand, forcing my palm against his crotch. “You feel that?”