Page 132 of Vicious Intentions
“I know you like to watch me for some reason, Matteo, but this is starting to get out of hand,” she admonishes, already reaching for the door to slam it in my face.
I don’t give her the chance. I grab her wrist and haul her back into the room. She doesn’t say a word as I sit and pull her onto my lap, grabbing the yogurt and a spoon.
“You will eat, Anna. Under my roof, you will eat what is brought to you. Understand?”
I raise the spoon to her mouth, but she turns her head away.
“Anna, for the love of God, don’t test me on this.”
“You can’t force me. You can’t make me do anything I don’t want to.”
“You don’t get a choice,” I bite out. “You’re the hostage here, remember?”
“Ha.” She lets out a hollow laugh. “I’m no more a hostage than you are a kidnapper.”
“You think I’m bluffing?”
“Yes.”
“Anna—”
“Matteo!”
Argh! God, this woman!
If she were anyone else, I would have already forced every last spoonful of yogurt down her throat. She’d have my fingerprints on her chin from the effort.
Still, she isn’t anyone else. She’s the woman I love. So I can’t fucking do that, now can I?
If force won’t work, then there’s only one tactic left—fear.
“Your father is flying into New York tonight.” Her gaze lifts to mine, a spark of hope breaking through. “Shall I welcome him into my city with bullets? Or should I have my spies in Chicago plant a bomb on his plane and blow him up midair?”
Anna clutches my shirt and pulls me closer. “Don’t… don’t hurt him,” she begs, her lashes beginning to glisten. The sight, paired with the desperation in her voice, feels like a punch to the gut.
“Then don’t test me. Eat.” She stares into my eyes, all her earlier bravado gone.
“There you are,” she says softly, letting go of my shirt. “I knew you were there somewhere. You almost had me fooled. But this… this is the Matteo I knew you were hiding all along.” Her voice turns colder. “And how I hate you.” Her words land like small cuts, forcing me to swallow the lump in my throat. “I canfeed myself, thank you very much,” she snaps, and when she rises from my lap, I make no move to stop her. “Get out.”
“No,” I reply, though there’s no real heat behind it.
“I said, get out, Matteo! I don’t want to see your face ever again!”
I clench my fists at my sides, lowering my head so I don’t have to see the hatred in her eyes.
“I’m staying right here. I need to make sure you eat.”
“Fine. Whatever. But I don’t have to see your face while I do it.”
Anna grabs the tray and walks to the other side of the room. She settles into the same armchair I slept in the night before, turning it toward the window so her back faces me. I remain rooted in place, watching as she eats everything on the tray.
At least I got her to eat. But this doesn’t feel like much of a victory. It feels like death.
Chapter 28
Annamaria
They say monsters hide in the dark. Mine wears ten-thousand-dollar suits and loves saying my name.
