Page 24 of Cavaliere

Oh my god.

“What’s that look for? Are you okay?”

I think I might get sick.

“Am I okay? No, I’m not fucking okay!” I cry as I start pacing the breakroom. “I’m involved with the mob, and I didn’t even know it! What if he decides he’s done with me and tries to take me out? I’ll be on the national news because my body is found with cinder blocks tied to my ankles.”

How did I not notice this? The signs were all there. I just am an idiot that can’t put two and two together.

“Oh my god, stop. You’re not about to be murdered. I would fuck him up, Mafia or not. I’m not scared.” Delaney places both hands on her hips.

Only Delaney could make me laugh during something like this. And the funny thing is, she’s dead fucking serious about taking on the Mafia if something happens to me.

“Why would he not say anything?” I ask out loud, more to myself, but Delaney answers anyway.

“I don’t know. Would you just announce you're the head of the Italian Mafia in Ravenna Heights? No.”

“Damn. You’re right. I’m sure most people also just, you know, already know who the fuck he is,” I say with an eye roll, sarcasm laced in my tone.

“You’re right about that, bitch.” Delaney laughs. “Come on, perk up those titties, and let's go make some money.”

The night passed by in a blur. The place was packed, as usual. And I’m not complaining. I needed the distraction from the shit show my life has turned into. I made a decent amount of money, which I’m so grateful for. I know my bank account is going to take a serious hit once I get billed for the front door that was busted in. I think some of the regulars took pity on me because, once again, I forgot about my busted-up face. By the end of my night, I just didn’t even care anymore.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me tonight?” Delaney asks as I clear off the last table of the night.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. I need to go back and get things back to normal. The longer I stay away, the more I’m just going to stress about it. You know how I am.”

“I know. I just worry about you. No more keeping shit like this from me. I want you to call me immediately,” Delaney says as she points her rag at me.

“I won’t, I promise,” I call over my shoulder as I head back to grab my stuff and get the fuck out of there.

The walk home was business as usual. Before I left the bar, Delaney gave me her little pocket knife just in case I ran into trouble. She basically said we’re no longer friends if I let someone follow me home like that again.

Thankfully though, I didn’t get a funny feeling that someone was watching me. There were no texts or calls from Matteo. My front door is even fixed. Let’s just hope no one in this building decided to get greedy and steal my stuff.

“What a fucking day,” I mumble to myself as I stick my key into my new front door, hoping that they didn’t change the locks too. The door still looks like the same ugly, rusty red color, and I know my landlord, the cheap-ass probably wouldn’t waste the money on something stupid like that.

The key turns, and I’m in.

I need to get a dog. Coming home to an empty apartment is just getting so old. And honestly, it would have been nice to have a dog the night that maniac broke in.

I don’t bother turning on any lights as I head toward my bedroom. I don’t even want to look at the kitchen. Delaney’s probably right about it being too soon to stay here by myself, but I refuse to let that piece of shit make me feel uncomfortable in my own place.

It isn’t until I’m standing in my bedroom that the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I’m really trying to chalk it up to it being from the first time back in here since I was attacked. I know it’s stupid, but keeping the pocket knife Delaney gave me in my hand makes me feel a little more in control.

“You were a bad girl, tesoro,” a voice rumbles from behind me, making me jump. “Do you know what happens to bad girls?”

Reacting on instinct from the edge I’ve been on all day, I flip open the knife as I spin around. In one quick motion, I have the guy pressed up against my bedroom wall, knife to his throat.

“They get punished.” Familiar, heated, dark brown eyes are staring back at me. Before I can blink, Matteo’s hand is around my throat, using just enough pressure to warn me but not enough so I can’t breathe.

“What are you doing here?” I hiss, pressing the knife a little more firmly against his throat. Not enough to cut him, but any tiny movement on his end would make a nice slit.

“What am I doing here?” Matteo echoes, chuckling almost as if he’s trying to calm himself down. “What I’m doing here, Wren, is making sure you’re safe. Making sure that sick fuck didn’t think he could come back and put his hands on what’s mine. That’s what I’m fucking doing here.”

My head starts to rear back, but the strong grip he has on my throat stops me. “Yours? I think we missed a huge fucking conversation, Matteo. Someone you barely know can’t be yours.”

“Oh, I think I know you just fine, Wren.” He smirks. “I still taste your skin from where I licked that drop of water off of you right here.” Matteo lightly traces my collarbone, sending a shiver down my spine. “I don’t miss the way your eyes heat when I’m around. You can say you’re not mine until you’re blue in the face, but your body doesn’t lie. It knows who you belong to. Now, as much as it makes my cock throb, be a good girl and remove the knife from my throat.”