And for the first time, I understood something dangerous about myself.
I didn’t want a fucking alliance.
I only wantedher.
And mark my goddamn words,I would.
Present
The city blurred past the car windows – gray skies, slush on sidewalks, February biting like a warning. I didn’t speak the entire drive home. My thoughts were too loud, too sharp. Every memory of Matteo’s touch, his laugh, the way he kissed me like he owned the air in my lungs – rewritten. Reframed.
He asked for the marriage.
He wanted it.
He wantedme.
The private elevator carried me up in tense silence, the floor numbers blinking slow as a heartbeat. I stood rigid, arms crossed tight.
The doors slid open with a muted chime.
Our home smelled like jasmine and the faint spice of the coffee he brewed this morning. Warm lighting reflected off the marble floors, Manhattan skyline hazed behind the windows like a sleeping beast.
Matteo was sitting in the living room, one forearm draped lazily over the sofa back, reading the paper like he owned my world.
He wore black slacks, white shirt open at the throat, sleeves rolled to reveal tan, muscular forearms, a gold watch glinting at the wrist. His jacket rested carelessly over the sofa. Dark hair pushed back. He’d just gotten back too.
When he heard my heels click across the marble, he looked up.
His brows pulled into that sexy frown, sharp and assessing, like he tasted the storm on my expression.
I didn’t even take off my coat.
“It was never just business. Was it?”
The frown smoothed off his face. Expression ironed flat – cold, precise. A predator scenting blood. He folded the paper slowly, set it aside, and stood.
“No,” he said, voice low and certain. “It wasn’t.”
My pulse stuttered.
“You never intended to let me go once the year was over,” I breathed.
He didn’t answer with words. Just stepped forward with that slow, deliberate prowl that made my knees weaken. He filled the space – tall, broad, dangerous. My heartbeat climbed my throat.
“Did you?” I forced out.
“No.”
“What were you going to do if I didn’t agree to the new arrangement?”
He stopped a breath away, close enough that I felt the heat of his body through my coat. His answer was a sin delivered like a promise.
“Handcuff you to my bed.”
“Matteo.”
“One way or another, you would’ve.”
