Page 65 of Accidental Alliance

Frustration?

Then his face hardens. “You aren’t in a position to be demanding anything regardless of whether or not I am feeling gracious enough to grant you a favor. So long as you continue not to cooperate, this is how it will be. In our world, that can be the only difference between life and death. You know that.”

There is the Conti in him again. The prince of a rotten kingdom, reminding the captive that mercy is a gift he refuses to grant those below him.

To him and the rest of his family I am nothing more than a means to an end, scum on the bottom of their shoes they can’t wait to wipe off on the nearest hard-edged surface.

“Our world?” I scoff. Unbelievable. Of all the things to say to me… he could have dressed up any other insult to masquerade as logic and he picks that one. “I left your world and built another one. Did you forget that?”

“And yet it found you anyway.”

All I can hear is Matteo laughing on that soccer field before everything came crashing down around us.

His hand in mine as we walked back home while he bartered for more toppings on his ice cream. Then his screams while Elio’s men dragged him from the only home he ever knew.

The rage washes over me so fast, it burns away every remnant of fear I have left. I take another step toward him before I think better of it, fury rushing up through my body hot enough for a slight feverish sheen to prickle at my skin.

“Because men like you keep dragging it to my door,” I snap.

He flinches then, though it’s barely perceptible. Not enough for most people to see, but I do.

The sight does not satisfy me as much as I wished it did. I want the satisfaction of feeling that deep sense of hatred I did the moment I found out my father was dead and he knew about it and left me anyway.

I want to look at the man who’s haunted my every waking moment and feel absolutely nothing but unfiltered rage.

For a moment, neither of us speaks.

He stands with his back toward the door. His eyes dance in the low light as they flit between my own.

I stand barefoot in front of him in a room he locked me inside, all the while pretending I cannot feel the terrible gravity between us waking up again.

It moves beneath the anger and the fear, beneath that iron wall I have spent years building between the woman I am and the girl I used to be.

It is the same pull that once drew me across crowded rooms toward him before I knew his mouth would become a memory I could never fully destroy. The same pulse that made his hand at my waist feel like danger and shelter all at once.

I see the ruin of him and remember that he was never only a monster to me once upon a time.

“What happened?” I ask again, softer this time despite myself.

His brows pull together slowly. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.”

His mouth curves faintly, but there is no humor in it. “Still lying beautifully, I see.”

I lift my chin. “Still avoiding the question.”

He exhales through his nose and looks away for the first time, toward the blank camera, the cot, the concrete wall, anywhere but me. That tells me more than he probably wants it to.

Elio has always been able to endure direct fire whether it be accusations, threats, bullets, fists flying, but there have always been certain truths he can’t help turning from.

“Alessio and I...” He pauses. “Disagreed.”

A chill moves through me. My arms tighten over my chest. “About me.”

His gaze returns to mine. “Yes.”

“And Matteo.”