Page 112 of Matteo

How did Mama not see him for the monster he is?

I understand now why Elizabeth doesn't want anyone to find out about us. I've never been so shocked to witness such misogynistic behavior in the workplace.

From my old man.

Chapter 27

ELIZABETH

I texted Matteo to let him know that I was going home to pack my overnight bag. I asked him to text me his address, because I planned to get a taxi to his place.

A few hours later, I’m outside a modern glass building that looks more like an art gallery than an apartment block, and I'm suddenly very aware of how ordinary I am.

As Matteo opens the door to me, the breath in my lungs empties. His apartment is equal parts luxury penthouse and bachelor pad, all exposed brick, steel, glass, and breathtaking views that make my tiny apartment feel very far away.

His bathroom is bigger than my living room. Suddenly I'm embarrassed that he even stayed at my apartment. For two nights. What would he have thought?

I ask him to give me a tour because I am in awe. And I want to see how the other side lives.

“This is the master bedroom”, he says, opening the door onto a huge room with the same exposed brick, and floor-to-ceiling windows, as well as touches of dark wood. His bed is three times the size of mine. He turns to leave, but I stand there, my eyes fixated on the bed, and the size of his room, and the view.

This man is from a different world to mine altogether and I start to worry that he and I are completely misaligned. It’s something I've never worried about before.

He puts his hands on my shoulders, peering at me as though he’s trying to figure out what's going on inside my head. “What's wrong?”

“N-nothing.”

But that's a lie.

My insides are in turmoil, and I'm not entirely sure why.

Maybe it's because places like this were never meant for people like me.

When I was younger, Vlad and I spent years testing the security of companies owned by men like Matteo, and his father. Corporations with glass towers, private elevators, and more money than they could ever spend. I was always on the outside looking in.

I'm having a hard time reconciling myself with being here. It's not the apartment, or the wealth as much as it’s the thought that Matteo wants me here.

“Elizabeth?” He brackets my face gently with both hands, tilting my face up so that I look at him.

“You have so much.” The words tumble out.

“My father has so much, and we’re lucky, I guess, to have all of this. Is it a problem?”

“I’ve never seen it up close. I’ve never been in places like this.”

He presses his lips to my forehead, drops a kiss on my nose, then my lips. “I’m sorry for what happened to you, for your childhood, and for all the things you’ve suffered. I wish I could do something to make it better.”

Me growing up in foster care seems to strike a nerve with Matteo. He looks at me like he wishes he could go back in time and change it. Fix it. Give me the things I never had.

“This isn’t me, Elizabeth. I’m not a playboy, I don’t throw money around, I don’t go to casinos or have women at my beck and call. I love my mom, my family. I like order and systems, and I like you. I like you a lot. Don’t let this …” He waves his hand around the room, “create obstacles between us.”

“I don’t want any obstacles between us,” I whisper.

We kiss again, tongues dueling, hands clinging, a fever building between us. My body starts to vibrate inside. Cells jangling with excitement. Here, alone in his bedroom where no one can interrupt us, my worries about him being the son of a billionaire soon fall away.

Now all I can think of is his mouth on mine, his body pressed hard to mine. Every time we kiss my panties turn slicker. Our kiss deepens, his tongue exploring my mouth, his hot sweet breath kissing my skin as he whispers, “I need to start cooking … you must be hungry.”

“I am hungry, but not for food,” I murmur against his lips. Desire courses through my veins, and my hands tighten around his neck. He kisses me so deeply, I moan into his mouth. I am wound so tight with all the longing and anticipation I’ve felt for him. All I want to do is forget about dinner, forget about being sensible, and lose myself in him.