Calm. Measuring. Wary.
“You are really bold—and damn near stupid—to come for my wife again,” I snarled, not bothering with pleasantries.
“At a time when she should have been under hospital care, you kidnapped her!”
“What?” Matteo’s voice came through the phone, sharp with genuine confusion.
“I didn’t kidnap anyone. I wouldn’t dare.”
A pause—measuring, careful.
“You spared my life last time,” he added. “I’m not stupid enough to throw that away.”
My grip tightened around the phone until the edges creaked under my fingers.
“I swear on everything I am,” I growled, every word threaded with lethal intent, “if you’re lying—”
“I’m not,” he cut in immediately. “And while we’re on the subject—listen carefully.”
Silence.
“I never touched Elena—let alone violated her,” Matteo continued. “Not during the kidnapping. Not ever.”
My jaw flexed.
“Vincenzo,” he said, quieter now, “she was kept in a locked room the entire time. She used her father as leverage—kept him alive so we couldn’t hurt her without losing our bargaining chip.”
A beat.
“If she’s pregnant, it’s not ours. Not mine. Not any of my men’s.”
The words landed like stones thrown into still water.
Heavy.
Disruptive.
Unavoidable.
And somewhere in the back of my mind—
A memory surfaced.
Elena.
Standing in front of me.
Saying the same thing.
Over.
And over.
“I was never violated.”
“I’ve only ever had sex with one person—and that person is you.”
“Vincenzo, listen to me, please... I’m not lying.”
