The son of a bitch was actually smiling at me. And he looked pleased with himself.
“Not now?” My voice rose an octave. “Is she the one you plan on marrying?”
Francesca’s eyes widened. “Daddy?” She sounded genuinely scared.
“We will leave you to it, Matteo. Come, Franny.” The old man took her by the elbow and dragged her away, clearly afraid that my anger would be aimed at his perfect daughter next.
“I don’t think that’s any of your business, Sophia. You are my guest, but that doesn’t mean my private life is any of your business.”
None of my business? I shook with rage, my hands clenching and unclenching at my side.
“Is she the girl?” I couldn’t bring myself to say woman, because she seemed so young to me. In fact, she reminded me of me at that age. All wide-eyed innocence.
Except she was beautiful.
“The girl you are going to marry?” My voice rasped.
The smile fell from Matteo’s face. “Possibly, yes.” He nodded. “She is sweet and beautiful, and she is from a powerful up and coming family. She’s perfect. So...” His eyes met mine unblinking. “Yes, I might marry her. It’s a good match. What does it have to do with you?”
I stuttered, stumbling over my words. “But this morning…” Why did I suddenly sound so unsure of myself? By showing that he had hurt me, I was giving him exactly what he wanted.
“This morning was fun, Sophia. I won’t deny that, but it doesn’t change anything between us. You’re still nothing but a mistress.” Throwing back his head, he laughed. “I could never marry you. You have to know that.”
I…he…rage engulfed me.
Lashing out, I grabbed the first thing I could find, which was the glass vase on the table, and launched it into his face with a scream.
Chapter Fifteen
Matteo
I touched the dried blood on the corner of my mouth as the elevator barreled up toward our apartment. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her arms tighten around her body even more, and her eyes dart toward me. Catching my eye, she looked away quickly, and her lips thinned even more.
She thought I was going to punish her for that little tantrum, and I was, but I wasn’t sure how yet. And anyway, I was beginning to think maybe keeping her on edge might be punishment enough.
No.
I snapped my eyes forward as the doors opened straight into our living room.
No, she would need to be punished properly, and soon. Sophia had grown up in this world. She knew better than anyone that outbursts like that one weren’t allowed, especially for someone in her position.
Mistresses didn’t have rights. They didn’t have a say. They were there to look pretty and fall to their knees when they were told, and in return, I would look after her and make sure she didn’t want for anything.
Sophia had crossed the damn line.
Plus, she had made me bleed.
Again, I glanced at her, waiting for her to move first. I wasn’t going to trust her with my back at all. She was mad enough to do something stupid.
Like throw a vase at my face in a packed diner.
Sure, she had missed, and the small cut on my lip was from a small shard of crystal that had hit me in the face, but that wasn’t the point.
Motioning silently with my arm, I watched as she stomped forward without even looking in my direction, heading toward the bedroom.
I caught her wrist, spinning her around but not pulling her into my chest. We stood there, both of us angry and not even bothering to try and hide it.
Her anger and hatred rolled from her.
