Dirty
Page 42
I walk to the door and open it. I take two steps out before I see Matteo standing with his hands in his pockets in the most glorious tuxedo I’ve ever seen. It fits him snug, and his five o’clock shadow makes him appear rugged, despite how clean cut he looks in his tux. His eyes and grin are what make me weak in the knees though.
He’s seen me naked dozens of times now, but he’s never looked at me the way he is looking at me now. He makes me feel special, like we are going out on a proper date instead of him bringing me to a job.
“What do you think?” I ask, because I want to hear him say I’m beautiful and to fawn all over me. I like the attention.
I take a step forward so he can get a better look and I trip in my damn shoes.
He catches me.
“Why are you always catching me?” I breathe into his chest, as his cologne sneaks up my nostrils.
“Because you’re always falling.”
I laugh.
“You’re in a good mood,” he says.
“I guess something about getting out of this dark mansion and doing something fun for a change makes me happy.”
His eyes narrow and I expect him to realize I could escape. After tonight, I could no longer be his slave. He doesn’t say anything though.
Instead, he holds out his arm, and I take it. For once, I’m not going to worry about anything other than enjoying myself. I’m his date. I’m not his slave.
He leads me out of the house and out to a waiting limo. He holds the door open for me, and I climb in. But the limo isn’t empty like I expect.
“Uh…hi…” I say staring at the two strangers already sitting inside.
“It took you long enough. We were supposed to leave thirty minutes ago,” the woman says, who has a striking resemblance to Matteo.
“I’m sorry. Your brother only told me to start getting ready twenty minutes before he wanted to leave.”
Gia smiles when I call Matteo her brother. She glares at Matteo when he enters and swats his leg.
“What were you thinking not telling her earlier to start getting dressed? You know it takes women longer than twenty minutes to get ready, especially for a night like tonight.”
Matteo shrugs. “I thought she was my slave and she would do what she’s told.”
Gia hits him harder.
“Fine. I’m sorry. Next time I’ll give her more time. Happy?” Matteo says.
“Yes,” Gia says, smiling.
I watch the exchange happily. I can’t believe Gia got Matteo to apologize. He’s not usually the type of guy to give apologies, but I guess Gia might be the only one who has him wrapped around her finger.
“I’m Gia, but you already figured that out,” she says.
“I’m Eden.”
“And this is Stephen, my date for tonight.”
The good-looking man nods at us, but otherwise doesn’t seem interested in our conversation or Gia. I hope he isn’t the guy she got her heart broken for.
Matteo puts his arm around my back, and I lean back into his arm. Gia stares at us intently, looking back and forth between us.
“What? Is my makeup messed up? It’s been a while since I’ve applied makeup or done my hair.”
Gia laughs. “No, you’re beautiful.”
I smile hesitantly, still not understanding why she is gazing at me so weirdly.
I stare out the window trying to relax until I realize where we are going.
“You didn’t tell me the ball was going to be at Armas’ house.”
I turn to Matteo waiting for an explanation.
He shrugs again. “Must have slipped my mind.”
I frown, not liking the idea of being back in his house again. Armas may be gone, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a brother or a cousin who is as bad or worse.
The limo parks outside the house, and the door opens. Gia and her date step out while I stare at the house, not sure if I want to go inside anymore.
Matteo steps out and holds his hand out to me, commanding me to step out without pushing me.
I grab his hand, feeling calm radiate through him to me as he helps me out of the car.
I continue to hold onto his hand, grasping it for dear life, as we step inside the mansion. I expect to feel nervous, anxious butterflies flickering in my belly. I expect hauntings and terror to cloud my head. But Matteo smiles at me like he knows a secret he’s sharing with me, and it all stops. I can’t think about anything other than enjoying the night with him.
“You okay?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
I smile. “Never been better.”
He laughs because we both know what I said isn’t true.
“Good. Now dance with me.”
He pulls me to the dance floor in a large room toward the back of the house that seems it was built entirely for this purpose. With so many people laughing and enjoying themselves, and this room feeling so far from what it was like in Armas’ room, it doesn’t even feel like I’m in the same house.
Matteo wraps his arms around me, and we start dancing. The music is slow and classic, not what I’m used to dancing to, but Matteo is practiced and patient with me. His hands guide me until we are moving together to the music.
I step on his foot at least three times and each time he growls and laughs. I almost want to step on his foot again on purpose to make him laugh because I love hearing him laugh so much.
“Don’t even think about it,” he whispers in my ear.
“Think about what?”
“Stepping on my foot again.”
I grin, surprised he was able to guess my next move.
He doesn’t smile back. Instead, he’s focused on something off in the distance.
I turn in the direction of his stare, and I see a man who looks almost exactly like Armas, but a few years older from the gray in his hair.
I swallow hard.
“Sorry, the fun needs to end. Time to get to work,” he says.
My heart stops. As he hooks my arm into the crook of his and we start walking toward the man.
He pats my hand calmly, letting me know things are going to be okay, as we stroll without saying a word.
But I have a feeling everything is not going to be fine. My stomach is in knots, and so far since I’ve been captured, my gut feeling has been right. Every time.
The man strides outside to a balcony, and we follow. My throat tightens when we step outside, and we are joined by the entire Espocito family. Armas’ parents, his older brother, and a younger brother, who looks to be fifteen. All are standing, staring at us like they want to kill us. They probably will. We are out numbered, and they have a vendetta against Matteo.
We are dead.
And just when I was finally accepting my new life and wanted to live.
I hear heels behind us, and see Gia, and her date walk up next to us. We are now four against four, but I still give them the better odds. The only person who would be useful in a fight on our side is Matteo.
“You had some balls to show up here tonight,” Armas’ older brother says.
“Why? We were invited, Bruno. It would be rude not to show up,” Matteo says.
I clutch his arm tighter as I stare at the man who terrifies me with the same eyes Armas had.
“You fucking—” the young boy says, starting to run at Matteo.
I flinch, but Bruno holds his younger brother back.
“You destroyed this family when you killed Armas and don’t pretend you don’t know what we are talking about. You are on the security tape,” Bruno says.
“Then, you know Armas deserved to die for how he treated Eden,” Matteo says.
The older brother smirks and the parents hold onto each other like they can’t stand this much longer.
“No. She deserved what she got and worse. And don’t act like you don’t treat her worse. We all know what she is - a slave,” Bruno says.
I stare at the man defiantly. I’m tired of being called a slave. Matteo senses my frustration and tri
es to pet my hand again to calm me. It doesn’t work. I want to rip his tongue out for saying I deserved what happened to me.
I glare over at Gia who appears bored with this conversation. Not the least bit worried we are all about to get shot.
“You need to drop this Bruno. All of you do. I’m more powerful than your entire family put together. I have more resources, more men, more money. Don’t start a fight you can’t win,” Matteo says.
“I didn’t start the fight. You did. I don’t care what resources you have or how much money you have. We are going to make you pay for what you did to our son,” the father says, breaking his silence.
Matteo ignores him, thinking he doesn’t have the decision making power.
“This is your last warning. Stop this now. Go back to being old families who rule this town no matter the beef between us,” Matteo says.
“No, this is not something we can forgive. This is war. So get ready because—”
Shots are fired. I duck down protecting my head as the bullets ring out around me. I don’t realize where they are coming from until I see Matteo holding a gun.
I stare at the Espocito family as they begin dropping to the floor one after the other. First the mother. Then father. Then Bruno.
My eyes widen hoping he won’t shoot the young boy. He’s a boy. I see the fire in the boy’s eyes though, and I know Matteo won’t leave him standing either. He shoots him between the eyes, and he drops dead, instantly.
I can’t breathe.
I’ve never seen a person die before. I’ve seen plenty of crime scene photos. I’ve imagined how Matteo killed Armas in my head hundreds of times, but I didn’t get to witness it. I was too out of it at the time.
But this…this is like nothing I’ve ever imagined. I thought I would feel more, watching innocent people die. I thought it would feel cold. I thought I would feel sad or heartbroken.
I don’t.
I feel nothing.
Maybe it’s because this experience has changed everything for me. My heart has hardened. I no longer feel pain for other people. Because if I let the pain in, I’ll never be able to survive.
Whatever the reason, I feel nothing as Matteo stores his gun and types a message on his phone.
“Time to go,” he says to Gia and me.
I don’t know how he will get away with killing the entire Espocito family, but I’m sure he will. He stopped the threat. Armas’ family will no longer come after us because they are all dead.
We all climb back in the limo Matteo must have summoned with his text message and begin driving home in silence. Matteo hugs me to his body.
“You’re safe now,” he says, kissing my hair.
I smile weakly, because in my heart I know I’m thankful for what Matteo did. He killed them to protect not only himself, but me too. And for that, I’m incredibly grateful. Too thankful.
Tonight, I lost another tiny piece of myself. I lost the part that cared about innocent strangers more than I care about myself. I don’t know how I can go back to work after this. I don’t know how I can have any resemblance to my normal life again after this. This changed me as much or more than the rape did. I’ve become a monster the same as Matteo.
Matteo wanted sex tonight, but he respected my space when I made it clear I wanted to sleep. I wanted to fuck him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, not when people died tonight because of us. I couldn’t be that cruel to celebrate their deaths, no matter how much I wanted to.
So now I’m in his bed, his arm draped over me, as he snores and I can’t sleep.
The minutes tick by, but all I can think about is the boy he killed. The white leaving his eyes as the blood spilled out. Matteo is more dangerous than I imagined. He walked into a party with over a hundred people and killed four by himself, without backup. He murdered four wealthy, well-known people in this town, and tomorrow the cops won’t come knocking on his door because he paid them off.
I made a deal with the devil, and now I’m as guilty of the crimes he commits. I could have continued to fight. To hold my ground. But I caved because I wanted sex and an easier way. Now I have to live with the consequences.
I carefully slide out from under his arm and sit on the edge of the bed as my stomach grumbles. We left so early I didn’t eat much, and I couldn’t eat when we got back, but now I could use some food. It might help me sleep.
I stand and tiptoe over to Matteo’s closet putting on a pair of his boxers and T-shirt. I have clothes in my closet, but I prefer the smell of his. It comforts me, even though it shouldn’t.
But I guess I’ve gotten comfortable after sleeping with the devil for this long.
I walk over to the small kitchenette in his quarters that usually has at least some basic foods.
I open the fridge and find nothing but beer and moldy cheese. I open the cabinets and find it empty except for a few crackers.
I frown. I need something more substantial than crackers.
I glance over at the door that leads to the rest of the house, as I munch on a couple of the saltines. It’s always locked with a key he puts in a safe, when he sleeps, with a code I don’t know the password to. I’m sure it’s locked, but my grumbling tummy wants food.
I walk over to the door and rest my hand on the doorknob as I glance over at Matteo sleeping. I’m sure he’s going to catch me trying to get out and think I’m trying to escape rather than getting food.
My heart beats fast as I wait to ensure Matteo is still asleep before I try the door. I turn the knob and pull. Surprisingly, the door creaks open. It always makes a high pitched sound when it opens, but this time seems worse than usual.
I stare over at Matteo. He doesn’t move. So I slink out between the crack before letting the door close slowly, so it doesn’t make a sound.
The hallway is pitch black. I assume I’ll be met with a guard right outside the door, but I’m not. I know he has security cameras, so I know it is only a matter of time before someone comes to drag me back to Matteo. I don’t wait for them to come. I storm down the hallway to the kitchen.
I open the fridge and pull out leftover pizza someone left. I grab two slices and place them on a napkin before walking out to the dining room where I plan on eating before heading back to Matteo’s room. I could go back and eat in Matteo’s room, but I like having a moment to myself. I like having the freedom. I like that I’m being a bit of a rebel.
I freeze in the door when I find the dining room already occupied.
I wasn’t expecting anyone. Least of all Gia. She has her own wing of the house, and she never bothers coming on this side. I know nothing of her life, other than she had a boyfriend who hurt her.
She’s sitting at the table with tears running down her cheek and a gallon tub of ice cream sitting on the table.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was here. I’ll go back to my room,” I say.
Gia chuckles. “You mean my brother’s room.”
I nod.
“Or I could join you?” I ask, not sure what I’m supposed to do.
She pulls out a chair next to her, and I take a seat with my cold pizza.
I start eating it, and her eyes widen and dry a little as she looks at me.
“We have an oven you know? That would taste much better warmed up.”
I smile and hold out a piece to her. “You’ve never had cold pizza? It’s an American tradition.”
She wrinkles her nose and sticks to eating her ice cream.
“Are you upset about what happened tonight?” I ask, not sure if I should be asking her anything, but I might as well.
“No, I knew what was going to happen when we went. The Espocito family deserved it. I would have killed them myself if Matteo didn’t.”
I force the bite of pizza in my mouth down. She’s as ruthless as Matteo. I need to remember that. I’ll need to watch out for her and not get on her bad side.
She raises an eyebrow at me, wanting to know how I feel.
“I’m
not upset about tonight either. It needed to happen. I feel guilty that I feel okay it happened.”
Gia smirks. “Your first kill?”
I nod.
“You’ll get used to it. The first time changes everything. Next time the guilt won’t eat you anymore.”
My eyes widen. I hope there isn’t a next time, but I don’t say that to her.
“I’m here because I’m starving and couldn’t sleep, the guilt and all. Why are you down here instead of in your wing?”
“I’m all out of ice cream on my side.”
“What’s the ice cream for?”
She sighs. “Because I’m in love with a guy who doesn’t love me back. It’s ridiculous to be crying about it, I know, considering your situation, but it’s the truth. I’m a hopeless romantic, and I don’t know how to get over him.”
I smile. “Good to know that at least one Carini has a heart.”
She smiles a little.
“You want to talk about him?”
“No.”
“If you ever want to, I’m here. I don’t exactly have anywhere else to go.”
She laughs and looks at me soberly. “Why haven’t you asked me to help you get free yet?”
I frown. “You’re a Carini. If I know one thing, it’s that Carini’s are loyal to each other. I knew it was a hopeless endeavor. Plus, I’m not sure I wanted to put siblings in that situation.”
She holds out her spoon to me, and I dig into her ice cream. It’s rocky road, complicated like her.
“Want to talk to me about you and Matteo?” she asks.
I chuckle and take another large bite of the ice cream. “No. What’s to talk about? He stole me to get my best friend back because he’s in love with her. I won’t tell him where she is because I don’t trust he won’t hurt her, and Nina ran for a reason.”
“Because of our father, not Matteo.”
“What?”
“Arlo and Nina ran because Enrico is still alive. Although, I’ve heard he is barely hanging on in a coma or something, somewhere in Northern Ireland. They are safe from him. Matteo wants his brother back and a chance to get the girl he thinks he loves back.”
I consider her words, but considering who they are coming from, I don’t trust her any more than I trust Matteo. This could all be a trick to get me to talk.