Bloodied Hands: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 1)

by Adelaide Forrest

  I forced a smile for his sake, trying to rein in my hatred for him in the wake of his confessions. No wonder love was so foreign to Matteo. He'd never been loved in his life, never even seen it. I felt sorry for him, because I knew that no matter how much it had hurt, the love I'd experienced had been a bright light in my life. "No. As much as it pains me to admit, I couldn't eat another bite."

  He laughed, requesting the check from the waiter and turning the conversation to inquiries about Sadie and Duke even though I knew he didn't care what they were up to. He'd hardly tolerated either of them in high school when they were a necessary evil to being with me. Sadie was too nosy, too in my face and bubbly and demanding for Matteo's tastes, and Duke was a man. Even then, Matteo had always been possessive to the point of excess.

  While we waited for the check, the stares he gave me were disquieting in intensity, as if something was coming and he was trying to get a read on my reaction.

  I just hoped the thing that was coming was him dropping me off at home and never looking back.

  It didn't seem likely.

  ✽✽✽

  We'd ridden back to my house in silence. Matteo's body vibrated with tension, whatever affected him so much at the end of our dinner still visibly pulsing through him. He didn’t try to hold my hand in the car, but that could have also been because I sat on it. When he pulled into the driveway, I held out a hand for my keys. "Thank you for dinner," I said politely. "It was nice to catch up."

  It was as clear a dismissal as I could manage without being outright suicidal with the man who looked ready to snap at any moment. He glanced at my hand with disgust in his eyes, shoving his car door open and stepping out.

  As soon as he slammed it shut, I winced.

  "Poop," I whispered to myself, watching as he prowled around the car. I hadn't paid enough attention to realize he'd shut the ignition off, but I figured that probably didn't bode well for me. Likely meant he didn't mean to just see me to my door. "Double poop scoops."

  My door opened quickly, and I unbuckled myself and let him guide me out like the gentleman he liked to pretend to be. His hand took up residence at my back, guiding me up the steps to my house as the car door closed with a thud behind me.

  My breathing was erratic, and I fought to control the rising panic.

  He couldn't seriously think I would sleep with him.

  Could he?

  He dug my keys out of his pocket, and I let out a sigh of relief when his eyes met mine. They were more relaxed than I'd seen him all night, more at ease with whatever was going on in his head. I reached out to take them from him with a smile, my breath freezing in my lungs when he turned away and used them to unlock my door himself. When he pushed the door open lightly, he gestured me inside. Pausing in the threshold, I turned to say goodnight in one last bid to keep him outside my house. Outside my sanctuary where he didn't belong.

  His eyes were soft when my gaze met his, soft and dark and full of the promise of all the things I believed the last time I'd let him have all of me. "Goodnight, Matteo," I whispered, putting a hand on the door and standing my ground.

  "Aren't you going to let me in, Cara mia?" he asked, and his voice vibrated with something dark. Something dangerous. Something I didn't understand in the slightest but knew well enough to fear.

  "No," I whispered, stepping back and slamming the door in his face. I gasped when his foot blocked it from closing and backed up as he prowled inside. He didn't turn to face it as he closed it gently behind him, stepping closer to me slowly. "Don't you dare touch me," I hissed, taking another step back. That fucking console table jabbed into my ass, and I stumbled, glancing to the side and looking for a different escape route.

  "Are you afraid of me, my Angel?" he asked as his body pressed tightly into mine. I whimpered, even through his suit I could feel every ridge of muscle packed onto his frame. He was a stranger to me; his body was nothing like the one I'd known once upon a time. "Because you should be."

  "What do you want?" I whispered, hating how weak my voice sounded as I spoke.

  "I'll never hurt you. Surely you know that." His voice cracked and his hand slid underneath the curtain of my hair to cup my face in his hand as he ran his thumb over my cheekbone. It was the same one Adrian had stroked, and I could practically feel him erasing the other man's touch with his own as possession glittered in his eyes. "I should walk away. Leave you to your life."

  I swallowed, not having the guts to agree with him. As prepared for it as I was, as much as I knew it was the smartest outcome for me, the thought of watching him walk away from me like I didn't matter for a second time was devastating. His forehead hit mine, blue eyes staring into my soul from so close that I felt like he saw every crack—every hole I'd worked so hard to cover up over the years. No matter what a train wreck I knew whatever this thing with Matteo would be, I still couldn't look away. "I won't. This time around, I can keep you safe. I have to believe that," he whispered, but I got the distinct impression he was trying to convince himself of it more than me. "I'm not letting you go, Ivory. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

  "No," I whispered honestly. Because I had a feeling that I really, truly, had absolutely no concept of whatever was happening. No control over it, not an ounce of real understanding.

  "You will soon enough," he murmured, tilting his face until his lips pressed against mine softly and silenced my protest. Nothing but a light, teasing touch of his lips to mine, his gaze captivated mine even as heat flared through me from the smallest touch. He pulled away with a groan, his eyes closing and disconnecting me from that blue-eyed stare that threatened to steal away my sanity. His other hand came up to bury in my hair, tilting my face the way he wanted me. When I gasped, the pressure of his hand at my scalp and the sensation of him controlling me so thoroughly too much for me to handle, his lips crashed against mine.

  There was no gentleness in that kiss, no trace of the man who'd softly memorized the feel of my lips on his from a moment ago.

  All that remained was a dominating force. His hand where he cupped my cheek forced my mouth to open for him, and his tongue darted inside to tease mine. I whimpered, hoping the sound would alert him to the fact that he was taking too much, pushing too hard too soon.

  Scaring me.

  I was totally and completely trapped, surrounded by him. That was not something that I could handle. Not with him. Not with anyone.

  My whimper seemed to fuel him on, his hand leaving my face to drift down my body in a slow, smooth caress that lit my nerve endings on fire. I'd thought they'd died a long time ago, but they flared to life with the subtlest touch from Matteo, even while I fought to maintain my sanity.

  It was Matteo.

  Not a stranger.

  While I convinced myself of the fact that I was safe enough and would walk away from whatever happened, Matteo groaned into my mouth. I realized at some point I'd started kissing him back. He pulled back enough to nibble at my bottom lip, and I moaned although I'd hated myself as soon as the sound left me. His hand slid around from my waist to my back, tugging me tighter to his body and then he slid it down and over my ass. My hips wiggled against him shamefully, and he squeezed the mound. Then he hoisted me up with one arm under my butt, setting me on the console table that I wasn't sure could support my weight.

  His lips fused to mine again, expert strokes of his tongue against mine as he shoved my thighs apart and inserted his hips between them. With all of him pressed against me, it was impossible to miss the bulge in his pants as he ground it against me. His hands ran over the bare skin of my thighs as he shoved the dress up my legs and hooked his fingers into the waistband of my thong. When he moved to tug it down, I jerked back from him. My head smacked against the wall, but I didn't care as concern crossed his features. I shoved him away with two hands at his chest.

  "Get off me," I protested, and his hands left my legs. His expression was torn as he stared at me, and I could see him trying to work out the kinks of how to get wh
at he wanted. "You need to leave. Now." He stepped back just enough that I could hop off the table and shove my dress back down my thighs. "This isn't happening."

  He sighed, running a hand through his hair before he nodded. "You're right. It's too soon." I knew my face must have morphed into one of shock. "I lost control. I miss you, Angel," he pressed one last soft kiss to the corner of my mouth, before turning and striding for the door. "I'll see you in the morning."

  He opened the door, closing it behind him and was gone. I hurried over to lock it, breathing a sigh of relief when there was something separating us. My back hit the door when I spun around and panted in a miniature panic attack.

  Because what in the fuck was wrong with me?

  Nine

  Ivory

  I woke up slowly, feeling so warm. Usually, I woke up cold. For years, I'd tossed and turned so much during the night that I would either wake up being suffocated by my blanket or freezing and the blanket on the floor. There was a definite weight pressing into me, but it was a comfortable one rather than the strangulation of being tangled in a comforter.

  A sigh of contentment reached my ears, and I was still half-asleep enough that I had to consider if I'd been the one to make it. Snapping my eyes open suddenly, I panicked and tried to squirm out from whatever, whoever, laid on top of me.

  In my bed.

  When I'd most definitely gone to bed alone, after getting reacquainted with a certain battery-operated friend in my nightstand drawer.

  "Angel, Angel," Matteo soothed me, holding me underneath him tighter as I struggled. I calmed minutely, freezing in place when I realized that my ass was rubbing against his groin, his very hard groin, in my inability to get out from under him. "Shh," he purred, taking my chin in his hand and turning my head back at an uncomfortable angle so he could see me. His lips came down on mine, soft and soothing even as my panic renewed.

  "What are you doing in my bed?" I hissed, jerking away from his hold, and finally squirming out from under him. Judging from the position, he'd been lying on his stomach and covering my left side with his body, his leg cocked over both of mine.

  "I don't like to wake up without you." He shrugged, watching me as I tugged the comforter up to cover my breasts. I wasn't naked, thankfully, but the tank and shorts I slept in with nothing underneath left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

  "So you broke into my house and crawled into bed with me while I was sleeping?!"

  He smirked at me, the fucking bastard. "Well, I couldn't very well climb in while you were awake, now could I?"

  "You—I," I stumbled, lost for words. There was no remorse on his face, absolutely nothing to show he felt guilty for invading my privacy and doing god only knows what to my body while I slept. "You had no right."

  "I have every right," he said, shocking me so much that my mouth snapped closed. "You're mine. You should get used to spending the nights together, Angel." My eyes drifted down to his chest, realizing he was shirtless for the first time once my panic had abated a bit. As much as he'd terrified me, as much as I wanted to hurt him for violating my bed, I didn't fear Matteo. I couldn't muster up any fear that he might hurt me physically, no matter how stupid that might have been. He'd always made me feel safe, like being within his arms was the only place in the world where nothing could hurt me.

  My eyes didn't know where to settle as they darted around. His shoulders were broad, sculpted with biceps that must have been as thick as my thigh. His pecs were perfectly formed, and even sitting the muscles of an impossibly defined eight pack stood out and tempted me to lick every ridge. The tattoo on his chest caught my eye, a quote I recognized from Aristotle referencing the night following the light of day. When my eyes darted back up to his face, I knew he hadn't missed my reaction to seeing him. He stood from the bed, revealing thick thighs corded in muscle. Only a pair of black boxer briefs covered him, and they barely contained the fucking anaconda of an erection I remembered all too well. I swallowed with nerves as he leaned over me in the bed.

  His face gentled, and he cupped my jaw and stared down at me in that intense way of his. "This is happening, Angel." His lips touched mine briefly, and then he turned and swaggered his way into my en suite bathroom.

  I sat there, disoriented and freaking out for a minute. When the shower started up, I was up and fleeing my bedroom in case he decided he wanted company. I didn't dare change my clothes for fear of the creep appearing the moment I was naked, so I snagged my huge, baggy sweater that I curled up in when I read. Shoving my arms in, I fled down the stairs, only coming to a halt when I found two men sitting and drinking coffee at the island. I stumbled back a step, preparing to flee out the front door when they spun and saw me standing there.

  "Miss Torres," one said, setting his mug down. "Is everything all right?" I stared at him, slight relief crashing through me when I realized he was the man Matteo had said was his security the night before. He stood, approaching me like I was a wounded animal. "Has something happened to Mr. Bellandi?" he asked, and I shook my head frantically.

  "In the shower," I mumbled, not acknowledging his other question. What kind of question was that, anyway? How could things be all right with three men I didn't know in my home? I glanced down at my mostly bare legs, feeling suddenly exposed, but neither man's gaze ever drifted away from my face. "What are you doing in my house?"

  The man tilted his head, a small smile crossing over his features as he shook his head. "I go where Matteo goes, ma'am. We weren’t introduced last night. I'm Simon, Matteo's head of security."

  "Okay, so you're his security. Ignoring the fact that you both broke into my house," I paused to roll my eyes, ignoring the chuckle from both men. "Then who is he?" I gestured to the other man who sat at the island, dutifully drinking his coffee.

  "That's Paolo. We call him Scar," Simon said with a polite smile. "He goes where you go." I blinked, stepping back from both men in favor of getting to my front door.

  I was in way over my head.

  I snatched my keys off the console, striding for the front door with another shake of my head. "Miss Torres?" Simon called, and something in his voice made me turn back to glance at him the moment my hand hit the doorknob. "It won't do you any good."

  "What?" I whispered.

  "Running. It won't matter. He'll never stop. Do yourself a favor, and just settle into your new life instead of fighting it, yeah?" My blood chilled at his words, and panic flooded my veins.

  "Ah, you're scaring my Angel I see," Matteo said from the top of the stairs. His legs made quick work of hurrying down them to meet me at the foot of the stairs. Touching his lips to my cheek briefly, he kissed me goodbye like a husband leaving for work. As if our relationship was normal, and he hadn’t broken into my home while I slept. I turned to face him, and I knew he could see the apprehension in my face. "Don't worry, Simon and I are leaving. I have business to see to." I breathed out a sigh of relief. "Try not to give Scar too much shit, okay?"

  "You can't be serious!" I protested. "I'm not letting you put some babysitter on me."

  "Bodyguard," Matteo corrected in a deep voice that left no room for argument. "Scar, why don't you take up position outside for the time being? I don't think Ivory is ready to have a house guest just now."

  "Yes, boss," Scar grunted, chugging the rest of his coffee and sliding past me to get to the front door quickly.

  "Is he just going to stand out there all day?"

  "He'll do perimeter checks periodically. Aside from that he has the SUV." I hesitated, feeling horrible that the man would have to just sit out there, but steeled myself against the feeling. I wouldn't let an intruder remain in my home just because it was less comfortable outside.

  "See you later, Angel," Matteo said, pressing a quick kiss to my unmoving lips and then he and Simon were gone without another word. Matteo's Aston Martin and what I presumed was Simon's SUV backed out of the driveway, and Scar's voice reached me from the remaining SUV when he rolled the window down.


  "Go back inside, Miss Torres," he said, his voice void of any form of inflection. I nodded, stepping back into my house. I went for my phone.

  I needed Sadie.

  ✽✽✽

  Sadie sat at my island again, her customary place. Having had the two unfamiliar asses perched in the seats that my two best friends had claimed so long ago sent another pang of discomfort through me. She was far too quiet, though it was probably to be expected. She hadn't gotten the full story yet, only as far as the fact that I had in fact gone on the date.

  She didn't know that I'd woken up to Matteo mostly naked in my bed.

  Or that he'd invited two strangers into my home, because he had no boundaries when it came to me or my privacy.

  I nabbed the onion from my drawer, setting it down on the cutting board a little too forcefully. "What are you making now?" Sadie asked, and I didn't miss the suspicion in her voice.

  "Spring risotto," I said. "The recipe was fantastic, and I want to see if I can replicate it while it's still fresh, you know?"

  My front door opened, and Duke's face filled my vision when he crowded into my space quickly. He took my face in his hands, his eyes boring into mine, and then they darted to glance all over my face as if he'd be able to see trauma. "I told you. I'm fine," I hissed.

  "You also told me you wouldn't go on the date," he accused, and I winced.

  "I didn't have much choice." My voice was a weak whisper. I so didn't want Duke to be present for the conversation I needed to have with Sadie. He would lose his mind.

  "What does that mean? And what's with the beefcake screening your visitors? Christ, Ivory," he turned, plopping into his customary bar stool.

  "He's her security, apparently," Sadie said, sipping her green smoothie through her straw.

  "What the fuck? Why do you need security?"