Matteo’s eyes snap to mine, slamming into me with the force of a goddamn storm.They’re wild, relentless, and for a split second, I wonder if this is it.If my name’s already inked in blood, carved beside Rocco’s, another body claimed by this fucked-up game.
A tremor rattles my chest.Panic crawls up my throat, bitter and burning, but I choke it down.I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing the fear tearing through me.If he’s going to put a bullet in my head, then he can damn well look me in the fucking eyes when he does it.
I don’t blink.My eyes stay on him, jaw clenched tight, forcing myself to meet his gaze.I’m fighting to take control, even though he’s got all the power.I’ll be damned if he gets to see the terror that’s eating me alive from the inside out.
Every second drags on, stretching out… suffocating me from the inside.My heart is racing, pulse hammering in my ears, drowning out everything else.
Then, after what feels like a lifetime, Matteo lowers the gun.I watch as he slides it back into his jacket pocket, the threat still hanging in the air, a flicker of a promise that he could pull it out again whenever the hell he wants.
He’s not going to kill me.
Not today.
At least not yet.
He moves with the quiet precision of a man who’s seen the worst of everything, like the violence he’s just unleashed, Rocco’s lifeless body on the floor, is nothing more than another item on his to-do list.
I don’t dare look at him as he circles behind me, but I feel his eyes crawling over every inch of my skin, dissecting me piece by piece.
I only flinch when I feel his fingers graze the ropes binding my wrists.It’s a soft touch… too soft, too fucking calm.His heat closes in, heavy against my skin, his presence thick enough to choke on.As he leans in to untie the knots, his breath brushes against my ear, sending a jolt straight through me.I stiffen, trying to force my body to stay still, but it's a losing fight.Fuck him, and my traitorous skin.
My heart hammers in my chest, so loud I’m sure he can hear it.His fingers move with clinical precision, loosening the ropes, but I can't focus on that.I can't focus on anything but the way his presence engulfs me, how I can't breathe without feeling him there.It’s all too close, too real.Every inch of me screams to escape, but I can't.I’m fucking paralyzed by the intensity of him.
The ropes fall away with a soft snap, and I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.My arms tremble.Bloodied wrists throb, shredded and raw, pain pulsing through every nerve.The burn in my shoulders still gnaws at me, a relentless reminder of how long I’ve been trapped, how long I’ve been nothing but a prisoner to this chair.
The chains come next, their cold bite digging into my waist, a cruel reminder of how much power he’s had over me.But it’s not the metal that makes everything inside me twist.It’s the way his fingers skim over my skin, savoring every second.Each touch sends a jolt through me, and I hate myself for how it makes my pulse race.
His touch triggers a tremor I can’t suppress, even as every part of me screams to move, to pull away.But I don’t.I won’t.Not when his hands linger—owning me, staking claim to every inch of my skin.
The chains fall to the ground with a hollow clink, and the sound feels like it echoes through my bones.
Matteo steps back in front of me.His eyes lock onto mine, unflinching, unblinking, as if nothing and no one can ever break that cold, calculating gaze.Every inch of him screams control.
“You try to run,” he growls.“I’ll put a fucking bullet in your skull.No warning.No second chance.”
His words don’t just hit.They crash through me, a sledgehammer shattering glass.He’s not here to play.Doesn’t give a damn about what we were.There’s no trace of the love we shared in his voice—only cold steel.No mercy.No deals.No bargains.His voice is a wall, an unyielding line in the sand that won’t bend or break.Just another part of him that’s turned to stone.
“Remember who decides whether you live or die,” he says, voice cold as ice.“You think you can take one step without my permission?”He steps closer, his gaze searing into mine.“I’ll put a bullet in your head before your feet even hit the fucking ground.Understand?”
I stay silent.The words sit there, trapped behind my teeth.But I keep them buried… because speaking them right now might just get me killed.
His eyes narrow, cold fire igniting behind them, a smoldering fury simmering just below the surface, ready to explode.His hand twitches toward the gun.It’s not just the weight of the weapon, it’s the unspoken promise that things could spiral from bad to catastrophic in the blink of an eye.
“Fucking tell me you understand, Emery.”
It’s not a request.It’s not even a threat anymore.It’s a fucking command.I see the muscles in his jaw twitch, the fury rising in his eyes, hot and dangerous, like I’m staring into the eye of a storm that could rip everything apart in seconds.
Then, his voice drops and I hear the threat.“Don’t fuck around with me, Emery.”
“I understand,” I say.It’s all I can give him.No pride left to hold onto.No room for defiance, no strength to argue.
Without a word, Matteo’s hand closes around my arm.He jerks me forward, dragging me across the room with such force that I stumble, my feet barely scraping the floor.
The raw power in his touch leaves no room for resistance.My body’s a toy in his hands, my movements not my own.He pulls me like I’m a ragdoll, his strength eclipsing any trace of control I could ever hope to hold.
Every step is a reminder that I am nothing.That I have no power in this situation.
When we reach the door he stops, just shy of the threshold.His body goes still, like he’s waiting for something, watching for any threat that might slip through the cracks.
